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"Tyler, I told you I can't do this. "
"I don't believe that. And I think you missed me, too. "
"I left your house just a few days ago. You're not that impressive. " He smiled against her throat. "You were so tight when I slid into you, angel. " He nipped at the skin just below the lobe and her nipples tightened traitorously. "So wet and hot. "
"Let go of me, you bully. "
He chuckled as she wrested herself away with a well-placed elbow to his ribs.
But as she moved away, his eyes sobered, all teasing humor dying away. He'd gotten the report of what had happened at The Zone, talked to Jeremy about Brendan's visit to the first aid area. It wasn't hard to put it together. He still felt it radiating off her.
While he hadn't been there for the incident, it did not make him feel any less responsible.
He'd let her walk away, only concerned about losing ground on the advances he'd made through her shields, not about the vulnerabilities his attack on her walls might have left. He vowed he wouldn't make the same mistake again. First he'd talked with Perry and gotten him to agree to lift the suspension of her member privileges. Then he'd checked in with Gen to find out Marguerite's schedule for the week. He'd intentionally come on this day, to see her in a situation where courtesy demanded that she'd have to give him time to make amends.
When he stepped back out onto the floor, Marguerite had the girls gathering around the sideboard to show them the process of prepping the tea, steeping it, explaining the purpose of the utensils.
"That's a pretty color, Miss M. What color is that?"
"Blue, silly," one of Natalie's friends said, rolling her eyes.
"No, it's a very good question," Marguerite said. "It's cobalt. See this texture? It's called a Cobalt Net because it's a netlike pattern with touches of gold. It's been hand-painted, is made out of porcelain and it came all the way from St. Petersburg. Who knows what country that's in?"
"Russia!" Two girls called out. Marguerite nodded.
"It still looks like blue to me," the child who'd teased Natalie said.
"It is blue, you're correct. " Marguerite agreed. "But isn't it wonderful that we have so many wonderful names and variations of one color?" Marguerite was aware of Tyler, leaning against the wall watching her as she stood among the rapt children, pouring tea, showing them how to use the strainer. She was also aware of Debra, standing off to the side, trying not to look interested, trying to hold on to her petulant apathy.
"Now, you want your teapot to be clay or porcelain, to bring out the best flavor of whatever tea you choose to put in it. If you want to figure out if a teapot has good balance, you fill it seventy-five percent of the way full. About how high is that?" One of the children nearest her touched the outside of the teapot, about two-thirds up. "Very good. A little higher but that's close. When it's that full, if you lift the teapot and try to pour the water out and it feels a bit unbalanced, it's not a good teapot. "
"Oh, Jesus. " The teenaged girl rolled her eyes, apparently about to burst with her irritation. "Why is this important? I mean, who the hell cares, really?"
"Debra," Tina began sharply.
"No, it's all right. " Marguerite gave Tina a reassuring glance. She finished the pouring, considered the question in silence.
"Are you going to answer?"
"Yes. I like to think things through. While you were rude about it, you've asked a very intelligent, thought-provoking question. I assume you're interested in the answer, so I want to give you a thorough and accurate reply. " She registered the girl's surprised expression and cocked her head, giving her a direct glance that Tyler suspected had made grown men drop to their knees in a heartbeat, so he wasn't surprised to see it have a quelling effect on an unhappy teenager. "And please don't curse in here. I don't allow cursing in the tearoom. " She sent a significant glance over to Tyler. "Those who do are served a tea of dish soap and water, regardless of the age and size of the offender. "
He raised an intrigued brow, a spark of challenge in his eye. She looked away hastily.
"You can't make me not curse. "
"No. " She faced Debra again, folding her hands in front of her. "You're right. Only you can do that. Only you can impose self-respect and therefore earn the respect of others. Now, you asked the question 'why is this important'?
"Have you ever noticed that children Natalie's age almost never ask that question?" She cast an affectionate look at Natalie, sitting quietly now, listening to every word.
"Maybe it's because at this point, everything is new, something to be learned that you didn't know. Your mind is this lovely open meadow, waiting to be populated with blooms of knowledge, in so many shapes and colors. " Her voice was captivating, like a storyteller's. She'd nearly hypnotized Brendan with the modulations of that sultry cadence the night she branded him. Now as Tyler glanced around the room, he saw they were all equally drawn in. Of course as far as he was concerned she could read the phone book and have his complete attention.
"As we get older, I think we forget about that meadow. There are so many flowers, we could live a thousand years and never discover them all. " Her eyes became more somber. "Learning something new, unexpected, introduces a new bloom to that garden.
Do you ever go into your room and put on your headphones to listen to your music, closing out everything? Parents, even friends?" She waited until she got a reluctant nod from the girl. Tyler saw from Debra's expression that she was somewhat taken aback to be getting an answer instead of an admonishment. "You may not realize it but you're seeking the silence in your soul, a place where you go to find the best of yourself. Learning a simple and beautiful skill, like choosing a teapot, that's seeking that silence, creating rituals where that silence may be found and nurtured. As long as you have that place, you'll never lose yourself, who you are, what you want. But you have to remember to keep bringing flowers into your meadow, always one at a time, to appreciate each blossom, to honor its contribution to your character. It helps make you into the person you were meant to be. "
"But Miss Marguerite, there's a really pretty purple flower in my mother's garden but she says it's a weed. "
"So why doesn't she pull it out?" Marguerite asked.
