a cup o' tea {shrimp}

Frail fingers run along the edges of the envelope as eyes dart back and forth trying to take it in and determine the nature of what's residing inside. It's been a while since a letter has randomly appeared on my desk, and it only makes me wonder. At first my mind lunges to the idea of a child acting up in school, but then I see the wax seal of a snowflake. For as long as I can remember any letter from school didn't feel as important as this one, but who would send something like this? Who would take time out of their day to drop a letter off at my desk?

With that it's probably important. Something I need to read right away.

A heavy sigh leaves my chest as I carefully rip through the envelope dropping the letter inside. Compared to my own penmanship, whoever wrote this could write forever. It's neat and precise. Some part of me wonders if it's a trap, or if it's setting me up for failure. Could someone try to sabotage the campaign I'm running? But as my eyes scan over the contents, I realize it's far from the truth.

Ethuil,
I hope all is well; I'd love it if you stopped by tomorrow for some afternoon tea and conversation - the weather's turning warm enough to sit outside and company would be marvelous.

Looking forward to seeing you at 2:15, I have a new brew I'd love for us to try.

Regards,
Judis

All she wants is tea and a conversation. It's confusing, yes, but who am I to turn down an offer like this? Turning towards the old clock in the hall, it's nearly time, and I'm not even sure if I should go. Crane, Aarin, and Arbrette will arrive home soon, and Fleur is out working. Someone has to watch for them, right? But it won't take long, and this may help me out in the long run.

Grabbing the jacket, I button up my sleeves and head out the door.

A single bead of sweat rolls from my brow disappearing before it has the chance to reach the ground. Perhaps it's from nerves, or maybe it's from the heat. Out of every day, why does looking professional matter? I'm only here for a friendly conversation with tea. At least that's what I think it is. But as I approach her house, I can feel my hairs rising. I remember as a child running through the district when the sun was shining brightly like it is now. Playing with friends, trying to respect my parents wishes. I wonder if mom's proud of me for all that I've accomplished. Sometimes I wish she was here to see my kids, to watch them grow as I have.

But right now it's not about them. It's about me and Judis having a cup of tea together despite not knowing what it's about. Yet I approach her door with caution. Inhaling sharply, I knock twice before lowering my hand, and then I wait patiently twiddling my thumbs hoping I came to the right place.