The Tea Series Read online

  Good news, she wanted to help, and she is good at trimming meat and dicing stuff.

  Bad news — and it wasn’t my fault — when you have two people trying to work in the same tiny apartment kitchen, when you go to wash your hands and you turn around really quick to check on the stove, there is a chance you are going to squirt your sister.

  Worse news. There is a chance your sister is going to squirt you back.

  Reality. We are O’Flynns, and there is no way we are going to get into a full-blown water fight in the kitchen.

  My mother would reach out from the cosmos and smack us upside the head.

  All the way from Ireland.

  That doesn’t mean that we didn’t end up outside at the car-washing thing. Thank the coin gods that I had quarters in my pocket, because although Teagan can run faster than I can and got to the hose first, my water was under pressure. Not great pressure — I wouldn’t want to take an eye out — but enough that she dropped the hose and ran.

  By the time we stopped laughing and got back to the apartment, took a quick shower, and changed our clothes — Teagan paid me back for the whole pressure-washing thing by putting on one of my favorite tops, which will no longer be a favorite, since she has probably stretched it out in places I don’t need stretch and because the traitorous garment looked better on her than it does on me — I decided that life is short, my memory can’t be that bad, I actually turned off the stove before I ran out after Teagan, and even if the O’Flynns aren’t what I once thought we were, it’s okay because I like us.

  THREE

  CAUGHT IT ON the third ring. Not bad considering I was in the shower when I heard my phone. “Aunt Cara?”

  “Yes, Jordan.”

  “Can I come stay with you?”

  “Of course. Do your Mom and Pa want me to pick you up, or do they want to drop you off?”

  “I haven’t asked them yet.”

  There was something in his voice that made my eyes water and my heart tighten.

  “Sweetie, are you okay? Are you at home?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Do you need me to come get you right now?”

  “I gotta ask my mom first, but if she says yes, can I stay with you?”

  There was that phrase. Stay with you. That didn’t sound like a fun visit; that sounded like a problem.

  “Do you want me to talk to your mom?”

  “Could you?”

  “Yes. Do you want me to tell her what the problem is?”

  “Please.”

  “So, what’s the problem?”

  “Oh. Well, I don’t want to talk about it over the phone.” A little boy holding back tears is a heart-wrenching sound. I know that most people would just tell him to talk to his parents. That’s why most people don’t have the kinds of relationships with kids that O’Flynns have. All kids. An O’Flynn would never not act when called into action by a child.

  “Okay, sweetie, tell you what. Do you have school today?”

  “No, teachers in conference.”

  “How about I call your parents and ask them if you can spend the day with me.”

  “Could you do that?”

  “I will.”

  “Thank you, Aunt Cara.”

  “You are welcome, Jordan. I’ll call them in a couple of minutes.

  I called my brother and told him that I wasn’t sure what was going on, but that Jordan had called and invited himself over for the day and had seemed upset.

  “He is having a hard time. Morgan is working all the time. She is up before dawn and working here, then she’s out the door all day, then she comes home late, and he is headed to bed. They have always been so tight, and he’s having a hard time sharing her with me, with work. You know how it is.”

  “I’m sorry. You know, when he was here the last time he said something about you guys having secrets. He said that you always tell him everything but because you aren’t telling him this thing, he figures it is really bad. I think he is worried about that, on top of missing time with his mom, plus being a little kid is just hard.”

  “Secret? I’m not sure what he’s talking about.”

  “I have no clue. You want me to try to get it out of him?”

  “If you could. So, what did you tell him?”

  “I told him that I was going to put on my cape and head over in the Auntie-mobile and save him. That’s what we aunt-superheroes do.”

  “Do you have time for that today?”

  “Liam, Jordan is like the perfect kid. He is never a problem.”

  “That would be a huge help. I have some stuff I have to do, and I really didn’t look forward to dragging him around. He’s off school today.”

  “I heard.”

  “You want me to drop him off?”

  “I’ll come get him. Normal disclaimer — don’t tell him that I shared all this stuff with you, or he won’t share anything with me. Give me a couple years to wear him down. He’s still new to the family. He isn’t sure how we operate yet.”

  “No problem.”

  “I’ll be there in half an hour.”

  “And, Cara?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks.”

  “Oh, Liam, you sound like such a grown-up. I think I like it.”

  I hung up to the sound of laughter. A great way to start the day.

  “So, you going to tell me what the problem is, or do I have to bribe it out of you?”

  “There’s no problem. I just thought I could come here.”

  “Jordan, can I tell you a secret?”

  “Sure.”

  “No, I mean a real secret. One where you are the only person that knows and I want you to really think about not telling anyone else.”

  He sat up a little straighter. “Sure.”

  “I’ve spent just about my whole life telling people there is no problem. When my feelings are hurt, I just take a deep breath and keep going. When someone does something that I think is wrong, I just remind myself it isn’t my business and keep going.”

  “Okay.”

  “Sweetie, you’re doing the same thing.”

  “Everybody does that.”

  “No, not everybody does.”

  “Yeah, there’s this kid at school, no matter what you say to him, he has to tell you that you’re wrong and it has to be done his way. If you don’t do it his way, he gets really mean. Really mean.”

  “A bully?”

  “That’s what I said, but the teacher’s assistant said that he has some issues and that we need to be understanding and tolerant.”

  “If he has a challenge, that is the kind thing to do.”

  “But, Aunt Cara, he’s just mean. He isn’t crazy. He isn’t sick. There is nothing wrong with him. But his mom is a lawyer, and his dad is some guy that drives a really nice car, and everybody is afraid of this kid, and that just makes him meaner.”

  “Is he bothering you?”

  “No.”

  “Really?”

  “I don’t know why, but he really doesn’t come around me. Maybe it’s because we are about the same size and most of the other kids are smaller. My mom says that a bully picks on the weak, and I guess he just doesn’t see me as weak.”

  “I’m glad you’re a strong kid.”

  We sat in silence while I drove for a few blocks.

  “Jordan, I can tell there’s a problem. You want to tell me what it is?”

  Silence.

  The rest of the drive and most of the morning was spent on mindless banter.

  One of my specialties.

  People think that just because I ramble on, it’s meaningless. They aren’t paying attention. If you ever watch a really good cop show or pay attention in life, you will learn that seemingly meaningless exchanges are often the most telling.

  By the end of the day, all I knew was that Jordan was a very unhappy young man and that he wasn’t going to tell me why.

  Enter A.J.

  He got home from work and looked exhauste
d. I immediately felt guilty about having Jordan there. A.J. didn’t need the stress of an unhappy child. He needed a long shower, a good meal, and to veg out in front of the television.

  “What up, Jay?”

  I’d never heard Jordan referred to as Jay before.

  Interesting.

  “Nothin’.”

  “You have any plans tonight, Cara?”

  “Not really. I thought I’d feed you guys. Do you have any preferences?”

  “Nope. How about I take a quick shower and then Jay and I can go shoot a few baskets while you cook dinner? That okay with you?”

  I could see that A.J. completely understood the situation. He’s such a great man. I keep forgetting to tell him that.

  “That works for me.”

  “Does it work for you?” A.J. looked Jordan in the eye.

  “Yeah.”

  “Good, give me five minutes. We can use the court at the condos behind the apartment complex. A buddy of mine lives there, and we’ll just use his name if the security guy asks. Either that or we’ll run like hell.”

  Jordan smiled for the first time in hours.

  I guess the idea of utilizing a possible felony never came to my mind when I was thinking of how to cheer up a little boy.

  Okay, it would probably be a misdemeanor, but still. You have to wonder about the males of the species.

  A.J. came out of the bathroom in a puff of steam, his hair pushed back and little droplets of water still visible on his left clavicle and the small of his back.

  Is it me, or does A.J. just go out of his way to get my heart beating a little faster when Jordan is around?

  Maybe I should rent the kid. Have him move in full-time.

  “Cara, what time do you want us back?”

  “Anytime. I decided to go with something flexible. If you want to text me about ten minutes before you want to eat, I’ll have it on the table when you get here.”

  A.J. walked over and gave me the sexiest little chaste kiss just below my left earlobe.

  Maybe Jordan would like to watch television in the other room for a while.

  Bad aunt.

  “You guys have fun.”

  Jordan ran over and gave me a hug before he left.

  Such a little boy.

  Such a heavy heart.

  I called Liam while they were gone and explained that I hadn’t gotten anything out of Jordan yet, but that he was out shooting hoops with A.J.

  “Thanks.”

  “What time do you and Morgan want him home?”

  “Morgan doesn’t even know you have him.”

  “Really? If I’d placed a bet on that, I’d have bet it all that she didn’t go an hour without knowing where her son is.”

  “She assumes he is with me, and he is fine.” I didn’t like the tone of voice my brother had.

  “Problems in paradise?”

  “No. I’m just tired.”

  “You know, Liam, you and Morgan got married pretty quickly. It’s normal to have a little trouble with the whole transition thing. I talked to Mom about it after Barry kicked the crap out of me.”

  “What?”

  “Okay, that didn’t sound right. Let me try again. I’m not good at anyone taking care of me.”

  “I know.”

  “That is a discussion for another time. Anyway, after I got home, I had a real problem with A.J. He was trying so hard to take care of me, and he is Suzi’s brother, and Suzi’s husband is the one who beat me up, and the whole thing just came crashing down on me at once.”

  “I remember.”

  “You only remember the parts that I let you see. It was actually a lot harder on me than I shared with anyone.”

  “Why didn’t you call me? You know I would have done anything I could do.”

  “I know, but we’re off topic. We are talking about you and Morgan. You have gone through a lot of changes. Liam, you grew up right before our eyes. Morgan has always been completely independent and had to do it all alone. Now she has somebody she can trust to take some of the weight off her shoulders, and poor Jordan, his whole world has been flipped around, and even if the changes are for the better, they’re changes, and change is hard to deal with.”

  “You’re right.”

  “Of course. Back to the question at hand. You want to come and get Jordan, or do you want me to bring him home? Originally you and Morgan were going to come over here for dinner tonight, remember?”

  “Oh, Cara, I’m so sorry. I completely lost that. Damn.”

  “No big deal. Teagan had a couple of things she needed to do, and spending time with Jordan is always a good thing.”

  “Listen, I’ll get in the car right now.”

  “Liam, I have a better idea. Why don’t you jump in the car, go find your wife, surprise her with some flowers, and take her out to dinner?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Liam, of all the people in the world who understand this, you’re in the top ten. Think of the pre-married Liam. He would have done this.”

  “You’re right. How about I pick up Jordan before, say, ten?”

  “How about you not worry about it. If you and Morgan stay out late, just text me, and Jordan can stay here. He can just put on one of my t-shirts, I’ll throw his stuff in the wash, and he’s good to go in the morning.”

  “I owe you one.”

  “Hopefully by the end of the night things will have gone so well that you actually owe me lots.”

  Even a chuckle is a good way to end a phone conversation.

  A.J. and Jordan walked in as I was putting dinner on the table. They went straight in to wash up, so I couldn’t tell if A.J. got anywhere with Jordan or not.

  They were laughing when they got to the table. A very good sign.

  There was no talk of Jordan’s problem during dinner.

  The guys offered to wash the dishes since I’d cooked the meal, and I wasn’t sure if I should do that and eavesdrop to see if they said any more about what was going on or just wait until later when I could talk to A.J.

  My hands were wet when Liam texted, so I just sent him a smiley face. He said he and Morgan would be by to pick up Jordan in fifteen minutes.

  I wasn’t sure what Jordan’s reaction would be, but he smiled, looked at A.J., they did some secret telepathic guy thing — amazing how young kids learn that stuff — and burst out laughing.

  The fifteen minutes waiting for Morgan and Liam turned into forty minutes, and by the time they got there Jordan had fallen asleep on the couch. Morgan whispered a thank you and Liam scooped him up. They were out the door before I got two words out of my mouth.

  “So, what’s up with Jordan?”

  “Can’t tell you.” He said it playfully and followed it with a really adorable little-kid smile, but that didn’t change anything.

  “What?”

  “I promised.”

  “Yeah, but don’t you think that his parents have a right to know what is going on with him?”

  “His parents might, but you don’t, and what’s going on isn’t gonna do anybody any harm.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Ouch, what?”

  “I don’t have any right?”

  “Right. This is between him and his parents.”

  “He told you.” Straight back to fifth-grade reasoning.

  “Yep.”

  “Why would he tell you if he wouldn’t tell me?”

  “Because I told him I wouldn’t tell you.”

  Why would that even come up? “Is it something I did?”

  “Cara, stop. It has nothing to do with you. Jordan is a smart kid. He knew that if he told you, you would turn around and tell his parents. That’s just an O’Flynn given. So me telling him that I wouldn’t tell you was a big carrot, and I’m not going to turn around and hit the kid with the stick.”

  “I don’t tell everybody everything.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “Really? I didn’t tell you that Teagan is getting married!”r />
  Oops. Went too far. The look on his face was terrible. I really hurt him.

  “How long have you known that?”

  “Not long.”

  “How long?”

  “Remember her before-dawn call? Just after that.”

  “I’m gonna go take a shower.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t get it, Cara. Ya know, sometimes…”

  And A.J. walked away.

  At least I was smart enough not to throw his being at work all the time in his face as an excuse for not telling him.

  I should get some kind of points for that.

  I muttered to myself while I scrubbed the already clean kitchen counters.

  It’s not my fault all these stupid people keep telling me things and I can’t tell anybody.

  It’s not my fault that he had to guess Sinead’s secret.

  It’s not my fault he doesn’t even know about Maeve’s secret.

  It’s not my fault.

  Okay. I need to stop. One minute I sound like I’m ninety, and the next like I’m nine.

  What is wrong with me?

  I put on the kettle and sat down at the table to wait for it to boil.

  I thought about getting out some paper to make a list or of writing everything down so I can make some sense of it, but I suddenly didn’t have the energy.

  It dawned on me that I didn’t hear the shower running.

  I’d never heard the shower.

  A.J. wasn’t taking a shower — he just didn’t want to be in the same room with me.

  For a second I thought about confronting him about it.

  Then I decided that I didn’t want to start a huge fight.

  Then I remembered that when the break-in attempt happened, I didn’t even think to call A.J. That brought back all the other times that a normal woman would have called the man she is supposed to be in love with, and instead of calling him, I called my stupid family.

  Thank God my kettle has an automatic turn off feature, because by the time the kettle boiled, I was crying too hard to care.

  By the time A.J. walked back out into the living area, I’d grabbed a bath towel and was crying so hard into it my head hurt.

  I’m sure my blood pressure was somewhere in the danger zone, not-good-for-a-ninety-year-old-acting-a-mess-who-can’t-seem-to-get-anything-right-anymore-no-matter-how-hard-she-tries kind of person. I’m probably doing more brain damage.