Chapter Text
It was pouring. Cassandra was running, trying to shield her backpack from the rain as best as she could. She soon realized she wouldn’t make it home without catching a cold or the things she was carrying getting soaked.
Soft light was coming from across the street, from a teashop she’d thought of trying a few times before but never had.
She crossed the street as fast as she could. The ‘CLOSED’ sign was hanging from the glass door, but when she tried, the door opened. She let herself in. A bell tolled above her head.
“We are closed.” A deep voice said from somewhere in the back.
“Sorry, but it's pouring outside, and I needed a place to take shelter.”
A few seconds later, a tall, white-haired man came out. He stood behind the register. He was wearing a blue three-piece suit and a purple bow tie untied around his neck.
“I hadn’t realized it was raining that much.” The man said.
“Cats and dogs. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind me staying here until the rain subsides.”
“Of course not, Miss…”
“Cillian. Cassandra Cillian. But you can just call me Cassie.”
“If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to keep the titles, Miss Cillian.”
“And your name?”
“Jenkins.”
“Well, thank you, Mister Jenkins, for letting me stay here.”
“It’s the least I could do. Would you like a cup of tea?”
“I would love one.”
Jenkins turned around and left her alone in the room again. She momentarily forgot her clothes were wet and looked around. Behind the counter, on glass shelves, the most luxurious china she had ever seen was displayed. Bookshelves full of books decorated the wall to her left. Then she saw the fireplace on the opposite side. The warmth coming from it surrounded her. It was so cozy.
Then she remembered why she was there. Immediately, she took her backpack off and left her computer, phone, headphones, notebooks, and pencil case on one of the wooden tables. She kneeled in front of the fireplace, trying to dry.
Not long after, she heard footsteps approaching. She turned around to see Jenkins set two cups on the nearest table and sit on one of the chairs.
“I would sit with you, but I wouldn’t want to get your chair all wet.”
“Do not worry about that, it can dry afterward.”
She got up and sat in front of Jenkins. She reached for her cup and took a sip. “Oh, peppermint. How nice.”
He smiled, “So, Miss Cillian. If you don't consider it inappropriate, I'm curious why you were out on the street at eight o'clock on a Thursday night.”
“I was coming home from the library. I teach at Portland State University, and I was grading papers.”
“Oh. And what do you teach?”
“Mathematics.”
“I used to be a teacher, too. I taught medieval history back in the day.”
“What made you stop?”
“It got monotonous, so I retired. Then I realized I didn’t know what to do with all my time, and opened a tea shop.” He took a sip of his cup.
“I love what you have done with this place. It’s super cozy.”
“I wanted a place where people could enjoy their time, chat with a friend or maybe read a good book.”
Cassandra finished her tea and got up. She walked towards the bookshelves, running her fingers along the spines of the books.
Jenkins watched her from the table as she read every title. What a nice lady, he thought.
“Do you see anything you like?”
“There’s a lot of books about King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table.”
“Indeed. I guess you could call me an aficionado.”
“Do you believe they were real?” She asked, walking back to the table with a book in hand.
“I do. What have you picked up?”
She showed it to him, “A book about the most perfect knight in history.”
“Interesting.”
“Are you reading anything at the moment?”
“I am,” he got up, and from behind the counter, he pulled a book. “Well, I’m rereading it. The Tempest.”
“Shakespeare.” He nodded.
Jenkins was about to sit back down when he saw her cup was empty.
“Would you like more tea?”
“No, thank you.”
“Cookies?”
“It’s not necessary, really. You’re being too kind, Mister Jenkins.”
“If I’m honest, it’s more of an excuse to indulge in my sweet tooth.”
“Then, sure. Bring some cookies.”
Time flew by. After Jenkins brought a plate with cookies, each started reading from their books. The cookies did not last long.
At ten, Cassandra’s phone rang. She answered.
“Hello.”
“Cassandra?”
“Eve? What’s up?”
“Where are you?”
“I’m in The Annex, that tea shop down the street from our place.”
“And what are you doing there at this hour?”
“I needed shelter from the rain, so I came here.”
“Oh.”
“You sound surprised.”
“It’s not raining now. It stopped raining 40 minutes ago.”
Cassandra turned to look outside and realized her friend was right.
“I hadn’t even noticed. I’ll come home now.”
She hung up.
“Huh.”
“Everything all right?” He asked.
“I just… Did you notice it had stopped raining?”
Jenkins looked at the street, “No.”
“I guess we were too immersed in the books.”
“That’s the beauty of reading.”
She put all her things back in her backpack.
“How much do I owe you for the tea and cookies?”
“It’s on the house. The wonderful company was more than enough payment.”
“You’re being too kind again.”
He smiled. When she motioned to put the book back on the shelf, he said, “You can take it with you if you want. As long as you promise to bring it back.”
“Thank you, Mister Jenkins. You’ll have it back tomorrow, I promise.”
“Then I suppose it’s apt to say; see you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow.”
They waved each other goodbye, and she left.