Monday, November 27, 2023

1

The Final Customer

 Lyn always thought of herself as old enough to be tired, but not retired. She’d have to find a new quip now.

 Only four more days, and then Easton’s Enchanted Teas, est. 1929 would be closed despite her best efforts.

 Lyn cleared another shelf of her stock, cradling the dusty jars of teas and tisanes close to her sweater as she crossed the room to the open crate. She’d done her best, poured her soul into this business, tried to make her dream work, and had failed. Crying over spilled milk wouldn’t solve anything. At least that’s what she tried to tell herself when the ache in her chest threatened to eat her whole.

 Knees creaking, Lyn knelt and began wrapping the jars in a sheet of newspaper. Inky letters announcing another round of bank failures curved around a jar of tea that helped people relive a midsummer’s night. A year ago, the sharp contrast might have pulled a wry chuckle out of her.

 The bell over the door jingled, and Lyn’s gaze snapped up. A petite woman hesitated in the doorway, her fingers twisting the strap of her bag.

 Lyn brushed streaks of dust off her front and crossed to the counter. “How can I help you?”

 The woman darted up to the counter, sparrowlike, and Lyn had a fleeting memory she couldn’t place. Did she know this woman?

 “I wanted to order a tea blend.” The woman glanced at the half-packed crate. “But it looks like you’re closing down.”

 Yes, was the answer Lyn should give. But she hesitated. The tattered edges of the woman’s coat and the shadows under eyes—marks of hard times and desperation—seemed out of place on someone still so youthful.

 “I’m closing down at the end of the week,” Lyn found herself saying. “Which is why everything is half off.”

 No, that was not in the script. You big softie, Lyn.

 The girl’s face lit up. “Oh, good. I was afraid I’d come too late. My name’s Amelia. Amelia Farnsworth.”

 Lyn clapped her wrinkled hands together. “So, what can I do for you, Amelia? I’m closing at the end of the week, so you’ll have to pick up any orders by then.”

 “I was hoping you could make a tea that helps you relive your best memory, even if you’d forgotten it.”

 Lyn’s brows rose. Of course she’d just had to open her big mouth and already promise a discount. Served her right for being such a bleeding heart. “Bringing back memories is hard. I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t make any guarantees.”

 Amelia nodded. “I knew it was a long shot to begin with.”

 Lyn asked a few cursory questions, jotted down notes, and handed Amelia the receipt. As Lyn watched Amelia’s threadbare jacket disappear through the shop’s front window, she stuffed her hands into her skirt pockets.

 One last customer. One last chance to take away the sting of having to close down Easton’s Enchanted Teas and answer the question of what all the years and work had been for.