Killing Time in Georgia (The Savannah Time Travel Mysteries Book 1) by Susan Kiernan-Lewis

Author:Susan Kiernan-Lewis [Kiernan-Lewis, Susan]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: San Marco Press
Published: 2023-05-02T00:00:00+00:00

34

I lifted the kettle from the stove and poured the hot water into a mug from my cabinet. The words had worn away after years of being put in the dishwasher. I dipped the tea bag into the hot water. I don’t know why I was expecting the scent of jasmine or perhaps lavender. But there was no scent. This was just basic black tea, nothing more, nothing less. I dunked and swirled the bag a few times before tossing it in the sink.

I looked at the tea in the mug and was stabbed with a longing that I couldn’t explain. Maybe it was because I knew that in 1923 a cup of tea would’ve been a restorative ritual, almost an act of spiritual devotion. And the benefits it gave could cure heartache as well as an upset stomach.

All I wanted from it today was an occasion to stop, take a breath, and maybe appreciate a moment of life's small pleasures. As I drank the tea, I couldn’t stop thinking of Mary. Or Henry for that matter. And of course, Sam. How I wish it had all been a dream, that these people were only figments of my imagination.

I finished my tea and rinsed out the mug, deciding that I would never use it again. It wasn’t much—a single cup of tea and a moment of reflection—but it occurred to me that that moment deserved a bone china teacup with a beautiful scattering of flowers on it.

I glanced at the clock in the kitchen and decided to call Mom early. That way I’d confirm that she got home okay and tick the box for letting her know I was fine. I did feel terrible for the pain my absence had caused her. It occurred to me that the fact that I’d assumed I was having some kind of coma-induced dream that had landed me back in 1923 meant that adjusting to the truth—that I’d really gone back in time—could account for why I was at sixes and sevens now. I put the call in to Mom.

“Yes?” she answered warily.

“It’s me, Mom. I got a new phone.”

“Oh, darling! I wondered if this was you since the number was the same. Did you have a good day?”

“I did,” I said. “Very pleasant. And I’m having a lovely cup of tea now and relaxing.”

This of course was only partially the truth, but I knew it would ease her mind.

“I’m so glad, darling. Well, you enjoy yourself. Can you come for dinner over the weekend?”

“I don’t see why not,” I said, feeling a little sad about the fact that I had no reason for why I felt so listless. I realized that my life, when it didn’t include work, tended to be as flat as a stomped-on johnny cake.

After hanging up with my mother, I went to my laptop and booted it up. First, I googled for Mary Thompson. I think I was hoping I wouldn’t find her, at least not by that name which would mean she found someone and married.

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