Taking Tea with Mr.

Clare
Ophelia had always liked winter. She could layer up all she desired to cover up
her particular condition. And she always imagined using the cold as an excuse
to pull herself into the arms of a dear companion. And her thoughts as of late
turned to her friend, Mr. Clare, who skin might have been as cold as winter snow
but his heart felt like a warm fireplace which she couldnt help but move
towards its flickering light.
Today was a glorious day for her plans, serene new fallen snow layering over
the usual gray, bitter streets. It seemed the final touch to the tizzy of cleaning
her and her brother Aron, had been doing the last week in preparation for her
friends visit. It was still early morning, when she got out of bed to meet her
friend knowing his preference for moving about the city in darkness which she
more than understood. Looking outside her window she saw hardly a soul and
felt glad. She dressed in her warmest wool dress and cloak knowing the chill as
soon as she left the small flat and its smell of burnt maple logs in their small
fireplace.
She was glad she liked the mornings, though Aron once he awoke was like a
burning sunlight streaming through curtains that couldnt be shut out. He was
already stirring as she left to gather her friend from the dank refuge he now
stayed in. The closer she moved to her friends location, the less affected by the
cold she felt much to her own surprise, and a giddiness started welling within
her.
Mr. Clare she could see as she walked closer to the entrance, standing with a
book in hand and as always seemingly ignorant of the weather. His bag was
heavy on his shoulder, the weight of it making a dent in his coat, though
Ophelia doubted he noticed it. As she got closer she couldnt help but notice his
tallness and strong limbs noticeable even with his coat. But she noticed the
most right now that he was lost in the words and didnt see her approach and
had a mighty, terrible thought.Inching closer, slightly behind him she slowly
reached her arms forward fingers extended and took a breath before rushing
forward her fingers pushing into his side as she said,
Morning! To her surprise, the mans reaction was not as she expected. As he
stiffly recoiled, his head whipping in her direction with pained yet predatory
eyes. His hair dragged forward over his face, his eyes met hers and in a flash
his expression changed to grief and finally transforming into pleasant surprise.
And somehow in all this he managed to not drop his book, swiftly closing it and
placing it in his already stuffed bag.
Good morning Miss Broderick, he replied in recovery, his breaths short and
one hand clenched over the strap of his bag. Ophelia found herself taking Johns
free hand in hers and putting a hand to his cheek.
I am sorry if I hurt you. He forced a smile it seemed, his hand grasping back at
hers.
You could do no such thing, She felt herself force a smile as well, berating
herself for her stupidity. But also felt curiosity about his reaction. Yet she
couldnt find it within herself to invade his privacy. He would tell her such things
in his own time. So instead she found a more appropriate question.

 You have everything you wish to bring? The woman moved her hand from her
friends cheek to grasp his arm and lightly tug them back towards the street and
he started moving with her. He nodded in response and dropped back into his
thoughts but Ophelia thought she might try to cheer him up. It was the least
she could do.
Onto tea then! Our grand morning adventure awaits, she started as they
made their way down the edge of the street which was rapidly piling with snow.
She could feel it crushing into the crook of her heeled boots which meant it
would be perfect later for building snowmen if there was such a place to do it.
There were few people to pass as they walked the darkened streets, sunlight
creeping through the cracks of other buildings up ahead. It took a few moments
but her friends breathing returned to a comforting pace, and she found herself
watching the plumes of heated air against the cold air emitting from his lips. He
looked forward letting her arm lead him and asked in a low voice,
Are you sure this is okay? I dare not be a burden to you or your kin, as he
readjusted his heavy bag, filled with things he would be leaving at their
apartment, mainly books of course. Ophelia used her free hand to swat at his
arm.
How many times have I told you to not say such things? It is an honor, you
trusting us with such precious things. Better yet I get to read all your books.
She looked up to see a twitch of a smile lite upon his features. Feeling a bit of
pride in such an accomplishment, she let her stride lengthen to match even that
of her tall friend though she felt just as silly to be happy of such things. She
couldnt help herself though, and she had indeed tried in the past. For a bit the
two fell into a contented quiet, enjoying one anothers company until Ophelia
heard John mumbling something,
Like white doves brooding wing, a landscape to the aching sight, a vast
expanse of dazzling light Amused to hear her friend quoting the poet he was
seemingly named after she struggled to remember the next line.
In-It is the foliage of the treeswoods, and John turned his head with a grin,
amused by her lackluster attempts and before she had to struggle continued
on,
That winters bring-the dress, white Easter of the year in bud, that makes the
winters spring. Ophelia felt her brow furrow. There were two more lines, but
blast her memory. She gave it one more go,
The frostand snow his- oh what are the flowers?
Posies, the man quickly picked up, The frost and snow his posies bring, The
woman felt the last line shine upon her as clear as the sunlight started to drip
through to them,
Natures white spurts of the spring! she blurted out triumphantly, and a bit
loudly turning a few heads. She quickly covered her mouth and heard her friend
laughing under his breath though desperately trying to hold it back whilst
pulling his arm from her grasp and pulling it around her shoulders. Her cheeks

must have been a deep pink and as if to compound everything she felt her foot
slide. The snow caking over what little traction she had in her shoes and her
ankles giving way. Her body was tipping rapidly as she watched John react with
the speed of lightning, his hand moving from her shoulders to her arm while his
free hand flew to her side and pulled her back upright and straight into him.
And it felt right. Like she was a snowflake landing on his coat and melting there,
in shock of her own clumsiness.
My dear Mr. Clare, it seems morning has conquered me. I am a poor adventurer
indeed, She recovered herself and knocked the offending snow from her shoes
before looking down the street, the next intersection being the turn to her flat.
Up in the mornings no for me; up in the morning early, when a the hills are
coverd wi snaw. Im sure its winter fairly, he responded after a moment, his
tone quiet but almost sing-song like. She would have swatted at his arm again if
she hadnt already been clutching it in case the white powder decided to play
any more tricks.
Never thought Id hear Burns used to tease, she stated with a mock pout and
then looked to see Johns face fall and turn to apology, hanging his head low as
if to beg for forgiveness. She smiled at his him reassuringly.
It is true though, Mr. Burns and I dont seem to fain well on certain winter
mornings.
I am sure the afternoons are all the better for it then, he responded sounding
a bit better.
Tis true. Better yet, we are almost there and my brothers breakfast always
makes the mornings better.
---===--They stopped along the street at a little bookshop with a faded concrete faade
reaching up to the sky above it for five more floors, Grecian dentil molding
adorning the lines between floors and little jutting cornices above the windows.
It was once much cleaner, but now the stone was a deep gray and cracking, and
pieces of the Greek detailing had fallen off and leaving teary lines dripping
down the stone. But yes, once it was surely a fine building.
John found himself being pulled towards the shop door by the smell of the
books, but Ophelia thankfully led him away from temptation and to a thin
doorway at the edge of the shop leading to a steep stairwell. They started
climbing and unlike the home of his creator was empty of children on the stairs
or laundry crossing the halls. It almost seemed eerily empty except for the
sounds of the occupants coming through the thin walls.
They moved up and up the thin stairwell till they reached the fifth floor and the
man noticed his companion seemed a bit out of breath. Truly she could not have
lived here long to be in such a state, and his face must have looked questioning
because she was peering over at him from the railing she had leaned on.
The rent gets cheaper the higher you go, and its quieter up here. The owner

also gave us a discount for helping run the shop downstairs sometimes when he
is out. And with that she was up again and went over to one of the doors,
knocking on it.
Just a moment, darling, a cheery male voice called from inside, causing John
to turn his head in minor confusion and then the woman to laugh at his
expression.
He always gets like that when hes cooking. Be warned, he might have been
referring to you, Ophelia stated while the man nodded, a bit unsure of what to
make of such a statement. The sound of locks sliding out of place started and
John felt himself straighten, readjusting his bag on his shoulder as nervousness
starting creeping back in.
What if this brother decided Ophelia shouldnt be with him? What could be said
to convince the man otherwise with how he looked? He couldnt imagine having
to separate from Lia, as he allowed himself to call her in the safety of his own
head. His rage assured him quickly if anyone should try to take her away, they
could be swiftly dealt with.
Such thoughts were brushed aside as the tarnished wood door opened to a
bright, blond, young man. Strapping might have been the best initial word to
describe him based on his physical body but kind perhaps as well considering
his overbearingly friendly smile.
Welcome to out humble abode John, if I may call you that, he said quickly as
he ushered the two inside and closed the door behind them.
I have heard enough about you I think for it to be well, seeing as Lia talks
about her dearest poet friend all the time, The blond haired man said as he
scurried across the room, while Lia threw off her shoes and cloak quickly making
chase and leaving their bewildered guest at the door. The woman, seeming to
have forgotten the hike up the stairs, grabbed a wooden spoon off a small
counter in a small kitchen area and hit her brother over the head with it as he
tried to get away.
I was using that, he pouted at her, a hand going up to his head in defense,
while Lia hit him again over the shoulder.
And now Im using it. You promised you wouldnt! Somehow the man managed
to get around her from the small living area and back around to John, his smile
apologetic.
Names Aron. Aron Winters. Pleased to meet the man who makes my sister
this excitable in the morning. Shes usually such a mouse reading and such,
trying so hard to memorize poems these days instead of just enjoying them,
and as he finished Lia caught up with him, and hit him again on the back
wielding the spoon formidably with an angry and flushed face.
You twit, she declared poised to strike again as Aron ducked down, leaving
her face to face with her friend. Suddenly her expression became mortified as
she dropped her arms in defeat. It seems Aron had won, no matter how times
she hit him with the spoon. With a huff, she quickly thrust the implement back

into her brothers hand and pushed him towards the little stove.
Werent you cooking? But Aron just grinned back over at John,
Indeed I was, but you left our guest at the door. The woman scrambled back
over, nearly tripping to her friend and straightened her dress quickly before
saying,
May I take your coat and bag, Mr. Clare? Her voice still maintained a hint of
mischief to it which he didnt think he had ever seen quite so clearly before, but
he did as asked taking off his bag and putting it on the ground, and then coat
handing it to Lia. The woman, her face still flushed, picked up the bag with a bit
of effort and carried it over next to a small couch while John took off his shoes.
He took a few steps into the flat with only socks, this place perhaps having been
the first place he had done so. He felt in a way, like he had arrived home.
The woman had come back over and hung his coat, as well as arranging the
shoes by the door determinedly as Aron cleaned off the offending weapon and
went back to stirring a small pot and then cutting a loaf a bread. While they
worked John looked over to see a small worn table set before two windows with
haphazardly different chairs, all proudly unique in their designs and
mismatching cups of steaming tea set on the table.
The man admitted to feeling a bit dumbfounded to what had just occurred. If
anything, Lias embarrassment had seemed to lesson enough to take his hand
and lead him to the small table and motioned for him to sit as she herself
flopped into a chair.
Never before had he seen such an exchange, certainly never seen siblings
interact besides his unfortunate experiences with his siblings. If anything he
supposed he should be grateful to Mr. Winters noble sacrifice of information
about his sister, which indeed warmed Johns heart. And it seemed his little
angel could bear the horns as well as her wings if it suited her. And john did
admit feeling twinges of jealousy at their closeness, but pushed such feelings
away as best as he could Aron had not flinched looking upon him or had yet
bore him any ill will. It seemed a possible union with Lia had been blessed
indeed.
Though he also did wonder which parent Aron and Lia shared, considering how
vastly different they looked. Perhaps he was the son of some mistress, and a
poor one based on his clothes compared to that of his sister. Not that it
mattered in the end. They seemed happy and Aron certainly was caring and a
good cook based on the smell coming from the small cooking area.
His thoughts finally settled a bit, the man carefully picked up the cup of tea set
before him and took a sip. He felt his body relax against the warmth as Aron
soon came over brandishing two plates covered with wrapped paper which he
then removed after he placed them down showing bits of bacon, eggs, and
toast. Then as he left again, John found himself admiring the kind offering
before him. He looked over to Ophelia who had once again taken the angels
visage and was content in the sun bathing her silhouette.
Did he once again dream, so soon after having given up on dreams? Or perhaps
he had lived in one long nightmare and now finally awoke to life, a woman who

he scarcely admit he may love and her family who accepted him. He dared to
imagine himself as human, drinking tea and about to eat breakfast with those
unlike him. He almost felt he had betrayed his desolate shore or even his dear
friend Vanessa. A happy betrayal at the least.
Aron returned with his own plate and the loaf of bread now neatly cut, crowding
the small table and seeming happy to sit at last. He took a sip from his cup,
smiling over at Lia, perhaps even smirking at his earlier victory. Then they took
hands and John felt the two each motioning to take one of his hands which he
did with a moment of confusion. Lia spoke,
Bless us, O lord, and these are your gifts, which we are about to receive from
your bounty. Through Christ our lord, Amen, and Aron quickly echoed her with
a calm satisfaction while John felt his silence resound throughout the small
room.
For a moment, he felt compelled to say the word of his religious friends, but
wasnt sure if it would be a mere courtesy or a betrayal of his own beliefs. He
felt himself curl forward, head bowed as he tried to retract his hands but Lia
kept a firm grip on his hand and within a second Aron did the same.
You dont have to say it, she said, understanding his dilemma immediately,
even taking her now free hand and lifted his chin, encouraging him to straighten
from his moment of question. They released his hands finally as Aron laughed a
bit,
Most of our friends dont understand it either, a catholic tradition this country
for the most part thinks odd. No worries friend. And with that, John let out his
held sigh as the siblings started to eat, both looking very amused if anything.
Perhaps this was indeed a common thing for them, being odd in their own ways
as well as him. With that bit of comforting though, he started to eat savoring
the taste of the fine morning.
---===--After a few blissful moments of quiet with the first bites, Aron piped up again,
So then John, what brought you to this black heart of a city? The man felt
himself choke on a bit of egg at the sudden question, but quickly swallowed and
replied,
Family. He tried not to think about the anger that likely crept into his voice but
thankfully the blond-haired man seemed unaffected.
Same. I came with Lia to this god-forsaken place when she decided to bring
some of the almighty back to the needy. And like a dog on the leash of fate, I
followed her. The woman had stopped eating, somewhat amused by her
brothers words. Aron leaned in towards John,
But yet, see how the lady abuses me, hitting me when I was so well behaved
today as if I were her puppy who had peed on the carpet. The dark haired man
now had to stop eating as well looking up to see his angels eyes narrow at her
brother, but taking a heavy breath and picking her fork back up trying hard to

not play Arons game.

Let us hope she treats all her pets better in the future then, he said quickly,
giving a go at the banter and trying not to think about the small woman trying
to chase him around the flat with some other kitchen implement.
If youre referring to yerself mate, I dont think the little lady could pull you to
heel if she tried. Both looked back at Lia whose blush was somehow even
fiercer now, and felt himself put a hand to his forehead, glad he could hardly
blush himself. Aron laughed in victory and then put his hand on johns shoulder,
winking at him,
Thats what Im for. The woman slammed her fork onto the table with
exasperation now it seemed,
Dear lord above, Aron let the man eat, and with that the hand retreated, the
blond haired man putting his hands up in defense while making a face at his
sister as she crossed her arms. John swore Aron would have whined like a puppy
if she didnt look legitimately annoyed.
Youll have to excuse my brother. He makes such wonderful things, but then is
determined that guests shouldnt enjoy them, to which the accused made a
silent but grand gesture of being shot by an arrow, getting a smile from her and
John as well. She then retreated to a look reminiscent of a mother scolding her
child and Aron playing his part, pouting before starting to quietly eat again.
So many new sides of Miss Ophelia he had seen today, just within the short time
of visiting her home compared to the refuge and temporary home in which he
lived. Before today most of their conversations had been philosophical if
anything, but now she played both the parent and child, angel and devil, and he
loved it all.
The three somehow finished eating in quiet, besides the sounds of the fireplace
crackling and the white winter sun beaming through the windows. This time is
was Ophelia who spoke up,
Would it be impolite to ask if you needed employment? John flicked his head
up, the poignant image of the Putneys lying dead next to the cage they had
tried to keep him in and the sound of Lavinias screams as he left.
Not at all, he said gruffly, trying to push the memories from his head. He
watched the womans face twist into concern but she continued,
I may not have mentioned, but the owner of the flat also owns the book shop
below. His name is Mr. Jenkins, Aron butted in,
But yet he keeps asking that you call him Ernest. He would be insulted to hear
you call him something so formal. Lia went on, somewhat ignoring him,
As I was about to say, he prefers to be called Ernest once you get to know him.
I sometimes help out in the shop, but there is only so much I can do. And Aron is
busy at the ports most of the time. My point is, if you needed the work, I could
introduce you. I think you simply being yourself would be more than enough to

convince him, And though she looked like she would ramble on a bit more,
looking down at her hands nervously her brother interrupted nicely this time,
Old Jenkins doesnt let anyone work the shop who isnt at least a bibliophile. I
dont think hed let me touch his books without reading the classics in his
opinion. It would take months and honestly is a bore, the man said with an
over-exaggerated sigh. With the proposition John felt both excited and nervous
at the prospect. But nervous was perhaps not the right word.more like
terrified. Just thinking about Oscar Putneys face satisfactorily grinning at him
through bars after he had worked with the man for so long made him cringe.
How could he have been so blind? Even Lavinia, Lily all sat scheming, luring him
to their own ends. Part of him still wondered, and perhaps always would, if Lia
would do the same. He felt his fists clenching in pain and then dared to look up
to see his angels hand move over his.
Dont think about it, if it pains you. We can talk of such things later, her gentle
voice eased his heart and gave him hope but still it beat in fear, his head
hanging low. Aron got up and gathered the now empty plates,
No need to be ashamed of it, he called as he walked to a small wash basin
and dumped the plates in,
Weve all done work that wasnt so friendly to us, if thats what happened. Ive
wanted to wring a few necks of pompous employers a few times I will admit,
John heard himself scoff. If only they knew the foulness of his past deeds.
Ophelia broke into his thoughts before he went any further,
Our point is, the offer stands whenever you wish to explore it. Her hand had
not left his, now unclenched her fingers had lightly entwined with his.
And if anything, we could always use an extra strong pair of hands for certain
things at nights on the docks: quick jobs with good pay if you know what I
mean, Aron said as he started washing the dishes. John laced his fingers more
tightly against the womans smaller, delicate ones but turned to look at the
blond-haired man.
I am more grateful than words can express. I have some money saved for now,
but I might be willing to take up any of the said offers I needed. I am
contented for now. He turned back, looking once more at his friends hand, his
ashen paleness compared to her lively peach tone. She had never made any
adverse comments on the coldness of his skin or the scars on his face. Yet
again, she had her own condition as she called it, and had described the
bleached patch of skin over the bridge of her nose as naught but a small portion
of what covered most of her body. When initially given such a description he felt
a sameness to his own scar littered body, but sometimes his mind would betray
him and he wondered what these hidden marks of hers looked like.
He tried once more to shake off the thought like a horse shaking off flies, bound
to return to buzz at its ear. He listened to Aron washing the dishes, the crackling
of the fire, and to the winter wind creaking against the windows threatening to
breech the well-warmed room.
Then, at least let us extend the offer to stay here, should you decide to take up

either opportunity. Aron has been leaving often as it is to his newest friends
house, the woman offering, her hand steadily holding his, though he shook at
such an offer of kindness as casually masked at it was. The other man seemed
to not notice his state as he responded to what seemed an accusation,
Only cause he had lost his lady love. The mans place is a mess, and he needs
someone to take care of him whether or not he admits it. Lia laughed at her
brothers concerned tone.
Im sure he will forget about her soon enough if you have your way.
One can hope, Aron responded reflectively as he now started the drying
process.
You going back today? the woman asked.
I plan to, but not before I hear the poem youve been composing under your
breath for the last few days. John whipped his head around to see a most
mischievous grin on Arons face as Lias hand gripped tightly onto his. But when
he turned back, instead of seeing a glare as expected she was smiling nervously
looking down, her free hand gripping lightly at a napkin on the table.
Thought Id let you get away with that one little dove, eh? and he laughed
merrily being done with his work and moving to the couch. He looked over at
the two and patted the seat beside him.
Lets make it a proper performance, John and let her stand before us. The dark
haired man looked over to Lia who took a deep breath and suddenly stood,
pulling him up with her.
If it will get some peace before you leave, let it be done then, she said John
following her as she led him to the couch and sat him down next to her evergrinning brother and stood before the fireplace, its light warming her figure. Her
eyes met with his and didnt leave as she started.
I am a hatchling crawled from my shell looking forever hungrily at the sky,
wanting to lift my words from a page scattering its threads as I rise and seek
my home,
I search high and low, through the filtering light of works past and deep into the
depths of my own soul,
I find a branch, its bark made of bits of phrases here and there to protect
against others discontent.
I find bits of this and that, shiny trinkets, tidbits of old memories for my nest,
a small refuge of my own imagination,
though supplies may sometimes be scarce without a parentage of proper
punctuation or grammar but somehow I pull through,
plucking my own wings to make my pillow.
I build an egg of the relics I find, the shiny relics and forgotten souls,
all our pain and elation making the shell and heartbeat of a poem,
I may always wish to keep it safe,
Unhatched within my nest

But like me, it too must be free to look towards the sky.
John realized he must have been grinning like a fool because Lia was too by the
end, as Aron started clapping loudly.
Brava, Brava miss Ophelia. You barely bored me. Such a rarity for such works.
The woman pretended to look offended as the dark haired man looked over at
Aron incredulously,
I know you mean, I brought you to the edges of eternity and back,eh? she
snapped back before motioning for the two to move over so she could sit down.
But it seemed the poor couch hadnt been designed for three people and when
Lia sat beside him he could feel the whole of her body leaning against his not
that seemed heartily aware of it. She turned to him saying,
Aron thinks poetry is unmanly to openly like or some such nonsense his friends
in the bars say. But he secretly likes it, and I bet my ability to burn tea he knows
more than I do,
Only cause you cant manage to remember them once youve read them. But I
suppose I peek at books of poetry every once and a while only when boredom
overtakes me, Aron spoke in his defense before standing up, Maybe one day
Ill regale you with my favorite form of poetry, sailor songs, when Ive had
enough drink that is. The woman snickered,
Thank heavens he can actually sing well. One night he wouldnt shut up till the
cock crowed, she said laughing as Aron coughed and slid away towards the
door after grabbing a bag from behind the couch.
I will have to hear it then, one day, John found himself saying, the promise of
such adventures with friend seeming its own impossible dream. The blond
haired man started to put on his coat and looked back to the two looking
somehow more cheerful than ever,
As I promised Im off. Theres stew in the pot and a note on the counter on how
long to warm it up, he said turning his attention more towards his sister, That
means not destroying my hard work this time, to which the woman stuck her
tongue out at him.
Well go on then, if you plan to actually go. Ill faint if you embarrass me
anymore. But Aron scoffed putting a pair of well-worn boots,
Youve never fainted before from it. I will demand an award if I can achieve
such a thing, and lord knows Ive tried, and he grabbed a scarf before throwing
his bag over his shoulder, If Mr. Clare stays, dear sister I want my bed to take
no part in it, before quickly opening the door and practically running out. John
looked over at Lia feeling confused again as she appeared to want to get up and
chase him down the five flights of stairs. Did Aron mean that he would sleep on
the couch then? That is if it was proper in any sense that he should remain
tonight, which he shouldnt do though he wished to with all his heart. Lia must
have seen his expression,
To think I lived in a convent and know what he meant. You poor innocent

lamb, she said leaning against him, pulling his hand to her lips. And with that
said, he suddenly understood what had been intended and gulped heavily,
leaning back against the couch in disbelief at such implications. Not that he
hadnt thought about them but to have heard them from her brother
My dear Mr. Clare, I never thought Id see you look faint. Would you like to lie
down? Still in a bit of shock he simply nodded moving his body down to the
end of the couch, expecting the woman to get up but she didnt move.
Its fine to use my lap. Aron isnt here to tease us about it, and before he
could stutter an opposition he watched Lias hand snake over and land on his
shoulder pulling him to lean over. And how could he disobey her?
If he had felt faint before, this is indeed more so. The feeling of the warmth of
his angels legs even through her woolen skirts, and her pulse which he didnt
know could be felt in such a place. ---His voice seemed robbed by his angels
kindness. He could only see the fire now from the new position but felt Lias
amusement.
To think we hath made you speechless. It is a rare occasion indeed. We shall
have to drink to it later, she said with a jingle in her tone which for a moment
John considered rectifying but he let her have her victory. He could see the
corner of his eye her arm reaching out and grabbing a blanket from off the back
of the couch and laying it over him before grabbing a book from the small
nearby table. With one hand she propped it open and laid her free arm across
his back comfortingly,
For now, let us rest and enjoy the morning.