“I could do a cup of chamomile with you.”
Her insides danced. “Tea? Really? That is not what I expected from a big, strong fireman.”
“Well, when you grow up with Orene influencing you, it’s hard to resist a good cup of tea.”
“I’ll get us some.” They climbed out of his truck and walked to the porch.
“I’ll be out here counting snowflakes.” Tucker sat in one of the rockers.
“Better yet, catch one for me.” Sheila went inside and put the teakettle on the stove. As the water heated, she looked through the cute teapots and matching cups Orene had displayed in the glass-front cabinets in the kitchen.
She wouldn’t dare help herself to any of the ones in Orene’s treasured displays in the other room, but Orene used these all the time.
Behind a red teapot, she spotted a fun set with snowball-fighting reindeer wearing Santa hats.Perfect.She set it on the counter and then found the tea tray she’d seen Orene use for front-porch serving.
It seemed to take forever for the water to come to a boil. She looked through the cabinet for chamomile. Turned out Orene had four flavors of chamomile. Who knew there were that many?
She filled a tea ball, placed it in the pot, and waited for the water to boil.
Worried that Tucker might wonder what was taking so long, she went out to the porch. “It’ll be just a minute. If you’re chilly, you can wait inside with me.”
“No. It’s nice. Take your time. I’ll be here when you get back.”
It was as if he’d read her mind. “Okay, I’ll be right back.”
The kettle was just beginning to whistle when she walked back into the kitchen. She swept it off the stove so as not to awaken Orene.
Tucker had his feet up on the railing, and hands behind his neck, rocking under the twinkle lights of the porch.
He sat forward as she walked up and handed him a cup of tea. “Thank you.” He closed his eyes and inhaled. “Nice.”
She sat in the chair next to him. “This probably won’t surprise you, but she had four kinds of chamomile tea.” She counted them off on her fingers. “Chamomile Mango, Honey Vanilla Chamomile, Cinnamon Apple Chamomile, and Chamomile Lavender. I don’t know about you, but spraying lavender on mysheets helps me sleep, and I even like it in my bath salt, but in a drink it tastes like soap. So I picked the mango.”
“Good choice. It’s been a long time since I’ve had to have my mouth washed out with soap.”
“My mom used to always threaten me with that too.”
“I never tempted mine. I think she might’ve really done it.” He sipped the tea. “This is nice.”
“It is. The snowflakes are almost gone.”
He pointed toward the light. “There are still a few. I caught you a couple, but they melted.”
“I’m hoping for a white Christmas.”
“I hope you get your wish. What’s on your Santa list this year? Assuming you’ve been good, of course.”
“I’m quite certain I made the nice list, but since I’m not home, he won’t know where to deliver anything.”
“Santa knows where all the good kids are.”
“Too bad I’m not a kid anymore.” She imagined what it might be like waking up on Christmas morning with children tearing through wrapping paper. Something she’d dreamed of for so long. She pushed the feeling aside, not wanting to lose the joy she was feeling at the moment.
“Will you be here on Christmas Day?”
“Yes.” Sheila felt compelled to explain, though. “I’m driving to Virginia Beach to visit my mother. She’s in a full-care facility there. That’s where my sister lives, but I’m coming right back for a few more days.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your mom. Has she been there long?”
