Tag: Love

Not My Cup of Tea

AJ.Dixon17 Comments

Not My Cup of Tea

By Adam Dixon

 

“Hello, granny! I let myself in, sorry if I scared you!”

Mary blinked and looked up, squinting against the afternoon sun. She beamed as a young woman with long brown hair strolled up the garden path towards her.

“Hello, Lottie, my love!” Mary said, wincing as she stood up from her deck chair. “Oh, don’t worry about that, it’s always lovely to see you! And you’ve brought Harry along too!” Mary gasped in delight as Lottie set down a squirming little boy in a white shirt with blue dungarees.

“Hello, my little soldier!” Mary cooed, opening her arms wide. “Give me a cuddle!” The little boy’s face lit up and he ran full pelt into Mary, throwing his arms around her knees and bouncing with excitement.

“Oof, you’re getting so big!” Mary exclaimed, ruffling his mousey hair. “What have you been eating, young man?”

“Everything!” Lottie said with a laugh. She put her arms over Mary’s shoulders and kissed her.

“Sit down, sit down, both of you!” Mary pushed Lottie gently away and untangled Harry from her legs. She waved at them until they were seated, Lottie on a second deck chair with Harry perched on her lap.

“Would you like a cup of tea, dear?” Mary asked, straightening her faded blue dress. “I think I’ve got some squash for the little one, too.”

“No need, granny! I’ve got a surprise for you…” Lottie slid a white handbag from her shoulder and rooted around in it. She found what she was looking for and held it aloft in triumph. A grin spread across Mary’s face.

“A flask? I bet I know what’s in there, you little rascal!”

“Ta-da!” Lottie gave a bow and Harry clapped and laughed. “I had to bring some, especially today!” Lottie withdrew a yellow plastic cup from her handbag and unscrewed the lid of the flask. A rush of steam burst out, accompanied by the smell of chocolate. Lottie filled a cup with a flourish and handed it to Mary, who breathed in the rich smell with relish.

“Just how my mum used to make it!” Mary sighed, closing her eyes.

“I’ll never get tired of hearing that,” Lottie grinned, and she filled a smaller cup for Harry. The boy was staring at the flask with wide, hopeful eyes.

“He loves this, too!” Lottie chuckled and blew on the liquid to cool it. “Can’t get enough of it. I’m blaming great-grandma for how much of a little chubster he’s turning into!”

“Choc! Choc!” Harry demanded, reaching for the cup. Lottie shushed the squealing boy and let him drink a mouthful. The look of joy on Harry’s face made Mary burst out laughing.

“It’d do my old mum proud to know our little ‘uns are still enjoying her recipe,” she said, and she took a swallow of her own drink. She savoured the hints of orange zest and nutmeg as it swept over her tongue, and the warmth spread into her bones. For a moment, Mary was once again a bright-eyed, curly-haired girl dancing around the hem of her mother’s dress. She lowered herself into her chair, a contented smile on her face.

“Oh, love, this has cheered me up,” she said. “I’d been thinking about how much Harold would love this weather. He’d sit out here, take his slippers off and let the grass tickle his feet while he read the paper.”

Lottie looked up from seeing to Harry. “How are you today, granny? Managing alright?”

“As well as I can, my love,” Mary sighed, taking another sip of chocolate. She probed the dull gold ring on her left hand. “Hardly seems like he’s been gone two years, does it?”

“It doesn’t,” Lottie agreed. “That’s why I brought the choc; I think I was making it for him in the back of my mind. Old habits, y’know?”

“I know,” Mary smiled. “Remember how he’d grumble because you always poured him the first cup?”

“Don’t worry about me, girl! Think of your mum and your granny!” Lottie intoned in a gruff voice, and she and Mary fell about laughing.

“He’d always drink it, though!” Lottie declared, rubbing her eyes. “Birthdays, exam results, family gatherings…he was the first to raise a cup at my graduation! He must’ve lived off it while great-granny was alive!”

“Well, he didn’t like to say no,” Mary said, her smile slipping slightly. “He was so good to my mum, bless his heart! Thick as thieves, those two!” She blinked rapidly then withdrew a tissue from her sleeve to dab her eyes.

“Sorry, love,” she said with an apologetic smile. “I miss him so. He was a wonderful man, and he’s left a big hole in this family.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Lottie replied, lifting her cup. “To granddad!” Mary sniffed and raised her own.

“To Harold!” The two women drained their chocolate and lapsed into a sad silence.

“I was thinking about our wedding,” Mary said after a while, tracing a finger along the lip of her cup. “I was so full of nerves, I thought I might be sick at any moment. Then I saw Harold standing at the altar, waiting for me; there he was, handsome and patient, with that same silly grin on his face, and all my worries melted away. I couldn’t’ve guessed that he’d not slept a wink that night, either.”

“Was he nervous as well?” Lottie asked, hugging Harry to her chest. Mary chuckled.

“He might’ve been, but we’ll never know!” she said. “No, he’d been up all night with my mum at the hospital. She’d had a fall and my dad couldn’t get her up, so Harold took care of her. She was terrified of hospitals, so he stayed with her all through the night and made sure that she got to the church the next morning. My sister told me they’d arrived only ten minutes before I did!”

“That’s lovely, granny,” Lottie whispered. Harry protested and tried to wriggle from her grip.

“Yes, it is,” Mary said, and a wicked grin appeared on her face. “He was exhausted, though, so we had to put off the wedding night, unfortunately for me!”

“Granny!” Lottie’s mouth fell open.

Mary cackled and slapped her knee. Harry stopped fidgeting and giggled in imitation, and then sucked chocolate from his fingers. Lottie cleared her throat and gave the flask a shake, sloshing around the liquid inside.

“More choc?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. Mary thrust out her cup and Lottie refilled it. She dutifully filled Harry’s cup as well, tutting as he slurped it greedily.

“Oh, look at that, he’s got it all round his face now!” Lottie fished in her handbag for a wet-wipe.

“He’s a delight!” Mary chuckled. “He loves that old recipe, no mistake!”

“Just like granddad, eh, granny?”

Mary didn’t answer but stared into her cup as Lottie cleaned Harry’s face.

“I’m going to let you in on a secret, Charlotte,” Mary said softly. Lottie’s head jerked up in surprise. Mary cleared her throat and leaned close, her rheumy eyes fixed on Lottie’s.

“Harold always hated that recipe, ever since the first time he tasted it.”

A breeze whistled through the silent garden. Lottie blinked, then smiled broadly.

“Oh, come off it, granny!” she laughed. “You’ll have to do better than that! Granddad used to guzzle it down!”

“Yes, my dear, but he couldn’t stand it! I think it might have been the orange zest, but I can’t be sure. Not my cup of tea, that’s what he used to say to me.” Lottie’s smile slipped under the intensity of Mary’s gaze.

“But…I brought him a flask every time I saw him in the hospital!”

“You did, and he loved you for it,” Mary said with a happy sigh.

“Granny, if that’s true…” Lottie was crestfallen. “Why would granddad lie about that?”

“Because he understood how much that recipe means to us,” Mary said patiently, reaching out and squeezing Lottie’s hand. “It’s our heritage. Nothing meant more to my Harold than family, you know that.”

“Does mum know?”

“Of course, dear, but she’s been sworn to secrecy. It’s my responsibility to spill the beans!”

“He never liked it…” Lottie said in a small, childlike voice. Harry sensed the change of mood and craned his neck to look at her. Mary spoke up hurriedly.

“No, my love, but he never complained,” Mary patted Lottie’s hand, and blinked as her eyes grew moist. “He once told me that he’d drink a barrel full of the stuff just to make you and your mum smile.” Lottie couldn’t help but smile at that, and she shook her head.

“The old sod!” she said, and her voice cracked. She lifted her half-full cup again, a single tear trickling down her face. “To granddad! I bet he’s up there having a right laugh at my expense!”

“I’m sure he is, my love!” Mary said, raising her own cup. “To Harold! Two years gone, but never forgotten!” Both women tipped their heads back, and sunlight glinted on their damp cheeks. The sweet taste lifted their sadness, and soon they were reminiscing about Harold and his many quirks. The afternoon stayed warm and the breeze caressed their faces like the gentle touch of a loved one.

Little Harry was set down on the ground, and unbeknownst to the older women, he wriggled out of his shoes and his socks. He sat there on the grass, letting the slender blades whisper across the soles of his feet. He giggled and squirmed in delight, feeling happy and safe and loved. Just how Harold would have wanted it.

 

Follow me on Twitter @ADixonFiction.

Photo courtesy of pixabay.com

 

Fiction Fursday/Flossy’s Chance

AJ.Dixon17 Comments

It’s Thursday again and time for another short story. This week my prompt comes from the Ben Kenobi to my Luke Skywalker of short stories, Geoff Le Pard. By the way, did you lot know that he’s published his Nano stories in a collection? Well then, now you do and you can visit the Amazon page and take a look! Go on, they’re very good!

Geoff’s suggestion is an interesting one. He challenged me to write a story in the 2nd person involving a rescue dog. Now, I don’t believe I’ve ever written a story in the 2nd person before so I’ve taken on the challenge with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. I hope it turned out okay! Thanks again, Geoff!

P.S. If any of you lovely people would like to challenge me to write a story one week, please feel free to leave a comment and let me steal your ideas!

Flossy’s Chance

By Adam Dixon

Do you remember when they first brought you home? The word hadn’t prompted feelings of security or solace before, only thoughts of misery and pain. The big place with the cages hadn’t been much better as you had missed your old master terribly despite all he had done. You liked the new humans a lot, in fact you believed that you loved them, but you weren’t sure about “going home” again. Your fears were allayed almost immediately as soon as you stepped into their house, your three legs quivering. It was much, much bigger than the last one you lived in and it smelled better too. It smelled cleaner, more inviting, with barely a hint of alcohol anywhere. It smelled of happiness and comfort, without the pervasive taint of anger and bitterness. The two little boys even gave you a new name to signify your new life: Chance. It was a good name and you loved it.

Do you remember when you saw Flossy for the first time? You were quite a shock to her as well! The old black cat was extremely put-out by your arrival, viewing you as an invader to her home of peace and pampering. You were frightened of her to begin with, but then again you were frightened of everything back then. Flossy resorted to passive-aggression anyway: she would hiss at you if you approached her food bowl and she would demurely ignore you whenever you sniffed her but she would never touch you. You grew confident and happy with that thought in mind and began to truly enjoy your new home. The young boys would take you out for your daily walks, laughing merrily as you hobbled along to keep up. You would cower whenever another dog drew near, whimpering as they tried to greet you. You even ran from adoring strangers who wanted to stroke you and call you a good boy. You were so frightened of everything, but you knew that you were safe with your new family nearby.

Then, the incident happened. You remember it well, although I’m sure that you wish you didn’t. You had been playing with the boys and had retreated out into the garden as they chased you. Barking with delight, you had stumbled into the grassy paradise eager for more. The boy’s mother had called them back, however, so you were left to amuse yourself. You knew that you shouldn’t have gone anywhere near the wall, but curiosity got the better of you. You approached the low wooden structure and after sniffing about you scented your neighbour. Too late. With a bark more akin to a roar, the gigantic hound from next door leaped over the fence and stood in front of you, his eyes alight with fire. You were so frightened! You had heard the nightly declarations of the great beast for months, listening to him boast about his strength and cunning and of how he could tear any of the local dogs apart. Staring up at his bared fangs you believed it completely. The big dog mocked you with his laughing growl and approached with deliberate menace. You whimpered and begged, crouching as low as possible because fleeing was futile. Your almost-forgotten memories of the beatings and the cruelty came flooding back and you almost died of fear then and there.

The last thing you expected was for Flossy to get involved. You were dimly aware of the sound of the cat-flap bursting open and before you knew it a black streak of fur sailed over your head and struck the big dog. The dog yelped and leaped backwards, bleeding from deep scratches on his face. Flossy stood between you and the beast, her hackles raised and her tail erect like a sword, spitting and hissing furiously. The big dog was shaken by the sudden interference and stared down at the old cat in disbelief. Flossy screeched and charged, her claws extended. The big dog yelped like a new-born pup and scrambled back over the wall in a panic. Flossy nimbly jumped on top on the wall and hurled more abuse at the hound as he raced away. You were saved!

From that day on, Flossy rarely left your side. It’s strange, isn’t it? The way Flossy saw herself as your protector after months of dislike? Clearly it had all been an act and you had never been happier to realise it. Your new-found guardian angel stalked a few feet behind you whenever you hobbled into the garden and could be spotted watching you play in the park with the children, calmly licking her fur but keeping a wary eye on everything. Feeling her watchful green eyes on you at all times made you feel as if you were wearing armour. Nobody and nothing could touch you when Flossy was around!

Sadly though, Flossy was an old cat…her death hit you hard, didn’t it? You knew that she hadn’t been well for a long time and tried to stop her from following you when her legs were aching. Flossy ignored you and followed you anyway. She was a stubborn old thing, wasn’t she! She never shirked one day from her duties as your protector, did she? It was heart-breaking for you when she passed during the night and your piteous howls of pain awoke the family to share in your grief. It was a dark day when Flossy the Super-Cat wasn’t watching you anymore…

You’re still going to lie there, then? Ever since she was buried under her favourite apple tree you’ve spent hours lying there in the evenings. Do you mean to watch over her as she once did for you? If so, you’re a very sweet dog. Flossy would be happy knowing that you still cared. But it is getting dark now, so perhaps you had better come inside. There’s a good boy.