“What’s your favorite food?”
“Cake.” He laughs. “You?”
“Spaghetti. But I also love cake. Favorite drink?”
He frowns. “Okay… Don’t make fun of me, but I really like tea.”
I jump to my feet. “Really? Me too!”
He narrows his eyes. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m not. I freaking love tea. I brew a pot almost every night.”
“What kind?”
I shrug. “The Lipton kind?”
He stands, pats my shoulder. “There’s so many more kinds than that. You ever try Earl Grey?”
“Who the heck is he?”
He laughs. “It’s like black tea with an orangey flavor. And that’s just the beginning. There’s all kinds of?—“
Maddox’s eyes widen as he steps toward me and slips in a patch of mud. He falls backwards, right into the rushing water.
My heart pounds as the roaring stream carries him away.
“Hey!” I call out. “Try to get your footing!”
But I don’t think he can hear me. He’s not used to this waterway. I am, though. I’ve fallen in countless times. I know how to get out. But Maddox needs help.
I quickly take my shoes off and jump in after him. I swim down to him and wrap an arm around his waist. Once I get a tight grip around him, I reach up and grab a tree branch and pull us to safety.
I lay Maddox across the bank. His eyes are closed. I place an ear against his mouth and nose. I don’t think he’s breathing.
I’ve seen CPR on TV. I’ve never tried it before. But there’s always a first time.
I push down on his chest a bunch of times and then plug his nose and perform a rescue breath. A couple of more compressions and his eyes shoot open. He spits out a bunch of water.
I slap his back a few times. “You’re okay, Maddox.”
He finally gets his breath under him before looking over at me, his eyes wide. “You saved me, Harry.”
Tea.
That was the first thing Maddox and I ever bonded over. The one thing that we had in common, despite coming from different worlds. Right before I pulled him out of the ravine and saved his life.
Eventually, a teapot became a symbol of our friendship. It became our go-to gift for birthdays and Christmases. Often we’d give the same teapot back that we’d just received. It was a fun little tradition that laid a base for a lifelong friendship.
And now, I’m holding a small, elaborately decorated teapot. Hand painted with tiny blue leaves and vines across its surface. Too small to be an actual teapot. There’s a windup key on the side. I slowly turn it and let it go.
A tune tinkles out of its spout.
It’s a music box.
Huh?
But no one else knows what the teapot means to us. Maybe Maddox shared that information with Alissa, but it’s always been an inside joke between the two of us. Dinah certainly wouldn’t know about it, so this can’t be a gift from her as I previously thought.
