Mint Tea and Peppermint
Mint Tea and Peppermint
I stared at him, praying that the weight of my eyes would bore into him enough to get his attention. His fingers moved across the tiny keyboard expertly as his eyebrows wrinkled slightly the way they did when he was focused. A light buzzing caught his attention as he gently pressed the blinking contraption in his hear.
“Hello,’ his silky voice said.
He remained silent as his eyes wrinkled again and scanned the screen in front of him.
“Yes, yes, I just got it,’ he finally said with his chocolate brown head bobbing up and down, ‘I can get that to you by the end of the day, I just have to play with it... oh really? Okay great, that’s even better. No problem, talk to you soon.”
He pressed his finger against the contraption once again as he let out a slight sigh.
His phone buzzed again, causing him to pick it up and type fiercely on the tiny key pad.
I opened my mouth and closed it again, still watching him, deciding not to speak and interrupt my perfect silence. This feeling wrapped itself around me like an old friend. My thoughts replacing the sound that used to be filled with him. I watched him like a familiar show. I had seen it so many times that I didn’t even need to watch to know what happens. He continued to bend over his computer, his Bluetooth glowing and blinking at me boldly, like a woman who knew she was dating a married man and didn’t care. Everything around us was quiet, and all I could hear, all I could focus on was the buzz, the hum, the churning that seemed to surround him, and the scent of mint tea and peppermint.
I watched him and wondered when I became a distraction. The quiet voice that interrupted his flow, put a stutter in his step, that caused him irritation instead of comfort. When did I stop talking and learn to silence my hurt, and fall into the background of his world. How did I get here?
“Baby,’ his voice said, interrupting my thoughts, ‘would you mind refilling my tea. Oh and see if you have any of that peppermint bark back there too. I love that stuff. Thanks baby.”
His request woke me up like a splash of cold water. I looked at my husband and felt something surge inside of me.
We were meeting today on his lunch break because I needed to talk to him, to hear his voice interact with mine, instead of react. He showed up on time, glancing at me briefly, placing a wet kiss on my forehead, looking right through me as though I wasn’t there. When he arrived, he came in like a soldier armed and ready for battle. His Bluetooth charged, blinking and ready for service. His blackberry and laptop ready to give everything they had. His cell phone plugged into the wall, weary, but holding on from all of the buzzing, ringing and delivery of good and bad news.
Seven years ago, we crossed paths waiting in line at a football game and instantly, we were drawn to each other. Every moment for the next six months was spent together, talking, laughing, growing, exploring. I stuck by him when he moved to the east coast to do his Master’s program at Harvard. We flew back and forth, or at least I did, and called each other when we weren’t in reach. Each conversation opened up a new piece of him, and exposed a new piece of me. There was nothing we couldn’t talk about and he slowly became my dream, and captured my heart. He would call me and tell me every victory, every triumph, every defeat. We were each others soul mates, able to withstand every question, doubt and concern.
When he came back we decided that if our relationship could withstand a year of being apart then it could withstand anything, so we decided to get married. He had just landed his dream job and I just opened the doors of my Tea Bar and Café. The perfection of the timing was all we could talk about. We exchanged vows six months later and before I knew it, we were trying to figure out what to do for our fifth year anniversary. Time flew and as he settled into his career, and I figured out ways to expand my business, we started talking to each other less and less.
It can be said, with all confidence that I love my husband, or the man he used to be. Things have been decent between us, quiet, calm. He has never been the overly romantic type, but he was always open, honest and loving with me. Our conversations over the last few years have been strained, forced, necessary. Lately, I realized that I have become completely invisible to him. His vision has become blurred, focused on something else. His job has become his identity, his worth. He does not realize that we are standing on opposite sides of the valley he has created with the destruction of us; our conversation, our ability to be quiet in each others presence, our desire to kiss, touch, laugh, together has been buried and turned to dust in that valley and neither of us had the strength or desire to dig up the fossils and piece together the remains.
I stared at him at his features from across the room and tried to remember what he smelled like. He used to always smell amazing, a mixture of masculinity and pride. He would pull me close and fold me in to his scent, making forget everything else around me. Those moments were fading into dusty memories and now all I can smell is my loneliness. All I can smell is my own scent, wrapped in the quiet solitude of mint tea and peppermints.
I placed a steaming cup of mint tea in front of him and continued to watch as the purpose for his visit slipped further and further from his mind. I glanced outside the window and watched as the lunch crowd tucked their scarves and gloves into coat pockets as they stepped into the warmth of my café. The San Francisco fog refused to let up as it grew strong enough to hold back the sun.
The buzzing brought my eyes back to the man who held my heart.
“Yes,’ he said glancing over at me, and nodding to thank me for the tea, ‘no I already signed it and faxed it over…No…I asked my assistant to make an extra copy and leave it for you…I’m just down the street meeting with my wi…yes…okay…I will be right there.”
He closed his laptop shut and gathered his gadgets before tossing everything into his briefcase.
“Thank you for the tea honey, but I’ve got to go. Oh wait. You wanted to…”
His cell phone buzzed as he put up his finger with one hand and pressed the button on his Bluetooth with the other.
“Yes…” He said as he leaned over and kissed me distractedly on the cheek before turning and heading toward the door, ‘hold on just one second… I’ll see you tonight?”
Before I could realize that he was talking to me, he was out the door leaving my response on my tongue like the peppermint I popped in to calm my nerves.
I stood up slowly and walked to the back where my office was. I sat at my desk and let out a deep breath. The photo from our wedding was framed and placed prominently on my desk. I picked it up and stared at the strangers staring back at me. Who were these people? What world did they live in and could I ever find my way there? Could I ever smile like that again, feel like that again. My husband didn’t see me anymore. I was no longer important to him, a factor in his life. I asked him to meet me because I haven’t had a real conversation with him, in who knows how long.
I reached into my purse and pulled out my own cell phone.
“I know you’re busy, so I’ll keep this brief,’ I typed quickly, ‘I’m pregnant and I’m leaving you.”
I pressed send and turned my phone off before releasing a long breath. I took a step out of the back door and walked into the alley, tossing my phone into the large dumpster that sat there. I went back into my office, grabbed my purse and headed out for the day, leaving the shop in the hands of my employees. The crisp air enveloped me as I let out a deep satisfying sigh. As I walked, the clouds broke, exposing a small corner of the sun. The scent of honeysuckle drifted past my nose and I paused, soaking in the scent. I have no idea what the future would bring, what was waiting around the next corner, but I did know that I could rest easy now because at least this time, I knew for sure, my husband would get the message.
To Be Continued…
© 2010 Brandelyn N. Castine
