A cowbell clanged as she opened the door and eased herself into the musty smell of old furniture. It was a pleasant smell and reminded her of her grandmother's home. A tear gathered in the corner of her eye. "Welcome to 'Another Time,' dear." Said a pleasant voice. "We were ready to have tea, would you like some?" Ashleigh's heart caught, the voice was so like her grandmother's. It was a voice that she had thought long stilled by the grave. "Thank you, very much. I would love some." The words tumbled out of her mouth without conscience thought on her part. She stepped deeper into the shadows of the shop and saw two elderly women sitting at a table. There were places set for three, and one of the old dears was pouring tea from a ceramic teapot. The pot and service had small violets in an intricate pattern that triggered more memories. Ashleigh sat down at the table and noticed that the fourth chair at the table, which was filled with a large, tabby-colored cat, that appeared to be sleeping. Her grandmother had one a lot like that, also. It had pined away soon after her grandmother. "I was just wishing for a cup of tea, like my grandmother used to make." "We know, dear," one of the women said, as she passed the cream. She had red hair that reminded Ashleigh of her mother. "We were waiting for you to come," the other said, passing a sugar-bowl. Her hair was pure white and puffed out, looking somewhat haloish about her head. Ashleigh's head was whirling with thoughts. How could they be waiting for her? How did they know she would join them for tea? Why were these thoughts of her grandmother running through her head? Why had she gotten off the bus at this stop. It was almost too much to worry about. "Don't trouble yourself about it too much, dear. Your tea, will get cold." Almost as though by command the anxiety was stilled within her. "I'm Irene and this is my sister, Bea." The red-haired woman pointed with her chin, "And Buster is the lazy-bones over there." Buster opened one green eye, stretched, rolled on his back, and seemed to smile at Ashleigh. "Hi, I'm Ashleigh," she responded automatically. Ashleigh paused to phrase her question and finally asked, "How did you know I was coming?" "Buster told us," Bea said with a grin and a twinkle in her faded blue eyes. "Oh Ashleigh, don't listen to her," Irene interjected and made a tisking sound at her sister. "She's always pulling your leg, you should watch out." Ashleigh smiled and sipped from her cup. She looked at the creamy brown brew in the cup and then took a larger drink. "My, but this is really good." "Thank you, dear. This is the way our mother made her tea," Bea said and smiled at her sister. Ashleigh noticed that the two of them had faint English accents. "Isn't it hot outside," Irene commented. Ashleigh glanced to the front of the little shop and could see heat dancing on the street and sidewalks outside, but inside the temperature seemed perfect. "I hate the city when it's so hot." Ashleigh said, remembering the cool fragrant breezes in the pecan grove at her grandmother's house. She had lain there for hours watching the clouds roll by. She shook off the memories and glanced around the little shop. Except for the area around the table and a small counter that held an old, old cash-register and a hot plate, everywhere she could see was stuffed with furniture and furnishings that had little white tags affixed to them. Stuffed to the gills. The thought rang in her head, it was one that her grandmother had often used. "Are you looking for anything in particular, dear, or can we just show you some of our favorites?" Bea asked. "Thank you for the tea," Ashleigh said, "It brought back a lot of memories." Was that a knowing smile the sisters shared? "I was just hoping to look around." "Be our guest," Irene said with a twinkle. "Try over there first." Bea pointed down one of the tiny isles. "Thanks, I will." Ashleigh nodded her head and slowly moved in the indicated direction. Each item that she passed brought back a memory. This lampshade. That cup and saucer. Oh, a magazine rack, complete with magazines. My that ashtray. Ashleigh walked down memory lane with each step. At the end of the isle, Ashleigh found Buster curled up on an antique buffet. He was purring softly and she couldn't resist scratching him under his chin. He stuck his chin out, smiled and began to purr louder. Ashleigh continued to scratch him until she really noticed what he was lying on. Ashleigh's great-grandmother had owned a buffet like that. The buffet had been handed down to her grandmother, and then her mother. Last year Ashleigh had lost all hope of getting the buffet. Her mother had been moving from her childhood home to a retirement community when the movers had damaged the piece of antique furniture beyond repair. It had grieved both of them and the dishes that had been stored inside the buffet remained packed in their boxes. Ashleigh's heart started beating harder and faster as she looked for a price tag, but none seemed in evidence. Buster purred, taking no notice of her anxiety. "How much for the buffet?" Her voice sounded thin and quavery. "Well dear, it's an heirloom, but if you really want it," Irene paused, seeming to calculate a price in her head. "How does eight hundred sound, Bea?" Bea turned her head to one side, in a way that reminded Ashleigh of a bird her mom had when she was a child. "I don't know that seems awfully low." Bea cocked her head to the other side, then took off her glasses and thoughtfully chewed the earpiece. Despite the coolness of the shop, Ashleigh broke into a sweat. As a secretary in a small shipping company in Greek Town, she barely made enough to pay the rent and buy a little food. Maybe they'll take payments, she thought, daring to hope. "Okay, eight hundred it is." She turned to Ashleigh and put her glasses back on. "How much would you like to put down today?" Ashleigh let out the breath that she had not realized that she had been holding and looked in her purse. Eighty-seven dollars and forty-three cents, was that all she could dig out? She felt the panic growing in her chest. Yes that was all and it was that much because she had been paid day-before-yesterday. "How about eighty dollars?" She swallowed hard and continued, "I get paid every two weeks and I could pay it off in five months." "That would be fine, dear" Irene said as she passed over a sales receipt. "Just sign it at the bottom and come back in two weeks and we'll have some more tea together." "Yes that would be lovely," Bea chimed in. "I think that would be just great," Ashleigh agreed as she signed the little slip of paper and passed it back.
* * * The cowbell clanged merrily as the girl went out into the heat of the Sunday afternoon. Bea sat with Buster in her lap while her sister poured more tea. "My that was nice, Bea. She was really brimming, wasn't she?" "Yes, but it was a shame to let that buffet go for so little." "Maybe so, but just think, she'll be back at least nine more times before we have to let it go and with a little prodding, I think we can live through her quite well." Irene sat back and sipped her tea and felt like purring, herself. "She is such a sweet girl, full of memories and emotions." Bea sighed contentedly. "We should be able to share from her for a while." "Oh yes!" Irene's eyes twinkled. "A little vicarious living never hurt anyone." Buster stopped purring and looked to the front of the little shop, then lay back and started to purr again. Shortly after that, the cowbell rang again. "Another customer." Bea smiled. What a satisfying day!
Story copyrighted © by Michael Bledsoe 
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