A Spot of Tea
(2/9/2010)-(7/19/2011)

The small girl approaches me. Her chestnut locks pour down her head like falling rain. Tiny hands surround an object as she silently steps over the open duffle bag. "Tio?"

Her feet touch the mostly clean brown carpet, if you don't count the piles of stuff in the corners of the room. The futon part of the bunk beds is in couch mode. Vibrations from my typing cause minor avalanches of papers off my desk trying to take my stack of graphical novels with them.

The sounds of clicking keys on my keyboard drown out the sub audible vocalization from her. One hand frees itself from the object and fingers her purple short sleeved blouse with lavender ruffle flowers. Tilting her head to the side, she takes a tentative step forward in her pink boots. "Tio?"

Her whisper makes me look up to see if I actually heard something. There, to one side, is my niece Julia. I smile. She shuffles over, curls into my arm, and rests her head on my shoulder.

"Yes, Little One?"

"Tio?" Her eyes look uncertain, "Would you like some tea?" She lifts the pink plastic teacup in her hand.

I look to the computer and all the things I should be doing to deny her request. "I …" I glance back to the screen for a good excuse, but all I see is the last time I had a tea party with her.

Visions of pastel plastic cups on a light blush hollow table. Faded memories of Julia wearing a tiara and dress. She lifted the mauve teapot my half full cup in the saucer. "Would you like some more?" That was such a long time ago. She was even smaller then.

I give her my attention again, squeezing  her into a side hug, "I would love to." With a quick glance at the clock, I stand. "But Tio can only stay for 30 minutes, and then he has a haircut."

"Okay!" She dashes off with a leap over my doorway obstacle. Like a river rushes against rapids her hair flows behind her as she races around the corner and down the hall.

The clatter of cups and the plops of plates fill the air. I slow my steps to let her get ready peering through the door frame. In a corner is a cooking range. Along a wall is a dresser with drawers open and the contents spilling out. This is where she probably got the tea parts. Lights in the corners assist the sunlight in illuminating the room where in the center highlights the table set for tea. She places the last plate down.

At last, I step through the portal into the former play area. My nearly six foot frame begins to shrink. Long brown hair touches my shoulders. As my body shrinks, it becomes more petite. My head drops below the door knob. The graphic on my shirt lightens and the words disappear. It becomes pink and frilly as my shorts morph into a matching skirt. Substance fills the holes of my sandals and turn to a shiny black. Buckles replace the Velcro and ruffles decorate the tops of my thinning socks.

"May I come in," I giggle excitedly while moving toward a well stocked table in an immaculate dining room.

"Tio?" She asks with her hand on an ornate wooden chair.

I raise a delicate lace covered hand. "Quinn," I remind her.

Julia nods. Then a bright smile engulfs her face as she clasps her hands around one of mine. With a matching grin, I let her drag me over to the table under the crystal chandelier.

The elegant wooden table had two chairs, one on either side, but it could easily seat six. A lone, steaming China teapot waits in the center. Two expensive, fragile teacups rest on matching saucers atop a runner embroidered with a burgundy rose vine pattern. Julia then places a miniature mountain of cucumber sandwiches, quartered and crustless beside the steeping water.

I climb into my chair, and it slides in. Lifting the teapot she asks, "Tea?"

"Yes, please." The dark liquid flows into my cup. Julia fills her own.

After blowing on the steaming fluid, I sip. It has a generic herbal flavor with a touch of honey and a hint of cinnamon. She copies the gesture and smiles at the taste.

The room is filled with the sounds of blowing and sipping. Rare moments of silence are cause for us to peek at each other and giggle and nibble bites of sandwich.

"Quinn? You know that giant cup on the building that we saw yesterday?"

My mind flashes to the huge inflated slushie atop the restaurant just to the side of the freeway off ramp. "Yeahhhhhh," I answer unsure where she's going with this.

With a light in her eye and a smirk, she continues, "Wouldn't it be cool if it fell over?"

I watch the balloon like drink lean to one side, drop, and pop on the fence. Uncertain, I go with a precise reply, "Uhhhh …"

"Yeah! Then we could all get cups and scoop some up." She grabs an imaginary vessel and does the motion, "and then we could have as much as we wanted!"

My vision of the wilted inflatable disappears. In its place is a giant falling cup complete with a green tsunami of sweet, sticky goodness covering the off ramp. Cars back up unable to finish exiting the freeway. People appear running from all directions to help "clean up" the disaster. "Oh yes," I agree, "that would be delicious." In my imagination, I grab some for myself.

"I know. And you know what else would be cool?" Her eyes unfocus as she imagines something.

But I'm almost in the groove now. "No. What," I ask excitedly.

"If we had straws the length of cars."

"Yeah. Then we could sip the slushie from the restaurant next to the gas station. You know, the one the cup fell from."

She looks to me surprised and then nods. "Yeah. We could have our food and not need to order drinks. 'Cuz we'd have them already."

Now it was my turn, I could tell as she was seeing a meal with a long straw. "You know what would be REALLY cool?"

Julia's eyes see me again. "What?"

"Cars made of chocolate. Then we could have dessert on the way home. Hungry? Grab a piece of the door."

We giggle at that. "That would be cool." She notices my empty cup, and our story stops. "Would you like some more?"

My eyes glimpse the grandfather clock behind her. My heart sinks. It's time. "No more for me, thank you." I push my chair back and slip off to the floor. With a curtsy, I thank her again.

A crushed look darkens her face. "Awww, you have to go?"

"Yes. I'm sorry. The tea was wonderful. But it is time for me to leave." My short legs and tiny feet cross the threshold.

Mary Janes return to sandals while the rest of outfit changes back to t-shirt and shorts. I look at her sitting at the plastic table with puppy dog eyes.

She calls after me, "Maybe when you get back?"

I turn and look at the elegant princess Julia in her tea attire. With a smile and a nod, I agree, "Yeah. Maybe."