Foreign Love

XXVII - Loose Ends, Pt. 2

Chapter 27: Loose Ends, Part 2

"Here it is," Andrew said, pouring the tea into one of his mother's teacups. A beautiful porcelain piece with pink and purple flowers painted on it.

I took a small sip of it, just to taste it, and damn, was it good!

"This might seriously be the best tea I've ever had," I said. He smiled, proud.

"It's not just a stereotype, you know." He chuckled. "Would you like some buttered biscuits, as well?"

"Please, I love these."

He walked to the counter and grabbed a can with some stuff written in German.

"My aunt brought them from Austria last month; they're very good, but also quite sweet. Watch out for diabetes and you should be fine, though."

I took one and ate it.

"I tried making some biscuits myself but they didn't work well."

"No, I'm sure they couldn't be that bad. I'd like to try it someday."

"Actually, " he said, looking at the can. "I think I mixed the cans, these are the ones I made."

"You see? They're delicious. I told you it couldn't be that bad." He chuckled. "You'll make a terrific husband someday."

"Ow, thanks. Too bad I won't be your husband."

"Yeah, but it's not like we would date from a distance, anyway."

I sipped on the tea, feeling the pleasing burning of the cinnamon down my throat.

"We live five blocks apart. We don't have to run a marathon to see each other."

Right... I forgot.

"There's something you should know, Andrew."

He nodded. "I'm listening."

"I'm leaving Canada next month. I'm going to study at Oxford for the next three years."

"Oh..." His countenance was saddened. "Tom, don't get me wrong, I'm happy for you. I'm only... Now that we've finally made up between us, you're leaving."

"That's precisely why I came here in the first place. I didn't want to leave Canada with unfinished matters. I hope you understand this."

He swallowed a dry. "Yes, of course, I do. What are you going to study there?"

"History."

He smiled. "And you're gonna become a History teacher?"

"Someday, I hope."

"Very nice."

The door opened and a male voice called. "Andrew, Sarah, I'm home!"

"Shit, it's my father," he whispered. "I'm in the kitchen!"

"Who's that?" I heard the man's voice said from behind.

That was quick.

I rose and held my hand out to him, "Thomas Carter, sir."

He looked at me, confused. Andrew intervened, "It's Tom, dad."

"Oh, the Tom! The one that was in the hospital, am I right?" I nodded. "Andrew has talked a lot about you in the past few days. Are you feeling better? Well, you're standing here, so obviously."

I chuckled. "Yes, sir. Much better. I left the hospital a couple of days ago and came here to visit Andrew and thank him for visiting me while I was there... Well, I think I'm gonna go, now."