teapot flowers

Part 10

Olivia Walters, an unwanted wake-up call.

I just finished helping my brother with the question he was stumbling on and then I ran downstairs to take care of my broken plant but I stopped before reaching the last step and just sat and held my legs tightly in my body.

It wasn't a big deal, I knew that. But all my built-up emotions started to pour down my cheeks. I hated myself for feeling so weak, I hated how I felt guilty even though I did nothing. I wiped the tears in my eyes and tried to stand tall. I had to clean the mess and make snacks or Mr. Nosey would get suspicious.

I grabbed the broom from the closet and headed to the plant room, but the pot was gone. I stood blinking for a second. "That guy. I told him to go home." I muttered to myself, shaking my head in disapproval. I felt a bit guilty for not telling James that I had the wallet the whole time. At first, it had slipped my mind as I walked beside him in quiet emotions and I did remember I didn't want him to leave, it felt so comfortable having someone walk with me and by the time we were home I was too embarrassed to tell him.

And he had done a thorough job of cleaning too. The glass from the pot was in a paper bag in the garbage and not a speck of dirt was left on the floor. I was just wondering where he trashed the plant when I rounded the corner into the kitchen, and to my surprise waiting for me on the counter was my poor plant. She had been transplanted into dad's old teapot.

And I could feel the tears coming back into my eyes, but a smile joined it this time as I let out a laugh as soft as a sigh. "That dummy," I said aloud, running my finger down one of her leaves.

I noticed there was a note on the table. It read: "I couldn't find a place for angelique and it felt like a shame to throw her out when she still had a chance to bloom for you, so I used this teapot, hope you don't mind. Sorry again and thanks for saving my wallet."

I just laughed again as another tear rolled down my face but I didn't try to stop it, it was a bittersweet feeling. "Out of all the places. The idiot put it in my father's teapot." I said softly as I stroked the smooth blue spout.

Truthfully, this pot was kind of like contraband. See it was my real father's, and when he died, mom, well, she threw it out. She said it was chipped but I think she didn't want to be reminded of him. I snuck it out that night when she was in bed and kept it secretly hidden under my bed. Sometimes I would just lay in bed holding it until I fell asleep.

The day mother left me and Peter with the key and went off to Sao Paulo, I took dad's old teapot and set it on the ledge. When Peter asked why I told him it was vintage and had character. But the truth is I kinda put it there to have a parental figure looking out for us. To watch us grow, watch our laughter, our tears, our challenges, and our victories. Not that I am superstitious or anything, but it was nice to feel dad was so close by.

I picked up the teapot and put it back on the ledge where it was sitting originally. It looked good with the plant, like it was full of life. I smiled as I looked at the note one more time and then folded it into my pocket.

The next morning I awoke to a loud clanging noise in the kitchen. I sat up alert, searching for my phone to check the time, afraid I had overslept. When I finally found it I plopped back into bed with the realization that it was 6:00 am on a Saturday...

The clattering continued and I rolled over in a last attempt to go back to sleep. I had almost drifted off when the smoke alarm started blaring.

I slumped out of bed in a zombie-like state and carried my body to the kitchen. I was honestly more annoyed than afraid, like that feeling of a pesky mosquito buzzing around your ear while you are trying to nap.