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Tea Time in Tavares
Weathering The Storm
The wind howled like a wild beast outside the weather-beaten clapboard house, rattling the shutters and slamming sheets of rain against the windows. The streets of the small Florida town were deserted, save for an occasional stray branch tumbling down the flooded asphalt. The hurricane, ominously named Abigail, had reached its zenith. Yet, in the middle of the chaos, five elderly women sat in a cozy living room, sipping tea.
The hostess, Edna Mae Thompson, leaned over her antique mahogany tea table and poured a steady stream of chamomile into a delicate porcelain cup. “Would you like another splash of honey, Clara?” she asked, her voice as steady as if it were a sunny afternoon.
Clara Mendez adjusted her oversized floral hat, its floppy brim sagging slightly from the humidity. “I’d love one, dear. After all, who knows if we’ll have honey after this storm? Better enjoy it while we can.”
Across the table, Bernice Carter snorted. “Clara, you’ve been saying that about everything since the storm started. ‘Better enjoy the cookies, better enjoy the electricity.’ You sound like a broken record.”
“I’ll have you know,” Clara replied with mock indignation, “I’m a realist. Unlike you, Bernice, with your eternal optimism. You’re probably expecting the sun to come out in five minutes.”
