Title: Tea Leaves
Rating: PG13
Summary: Sometimes fate is just a few tea leaves.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. The characters are the property of Tamora Pierce, and the storyline is based on the book Adilia by The River by Jin Renshun.
A/N: Possibly the longest thing I have ever written. The first in a two part story. Expect the second part out later this week. Please review, they make me write faster.
♦
She adjusts her glasses. Her hazel eyes dreamy and reserved. She smiles faintly, and waits for him to say something.
"You…you have a masters degree?"
"I'm studying for it." Her voice is quiet, and gentle, like a caress of raw silk. It is lost on the man.
"Oh?" he sounds surprised. "In what?"
"Comparative Literature."
"Comparing what literature?" His joke falls flat. But she is a polite woman. So she smiles faintly. If you squint, she almost looks pretty.
She looks down at her hands. She has nice hands. Long artistic fingers and smooth, white palms. She reaches over, and takes a sip of her green tea. Opening and closing her mouth slightly, savouring the flavour.
A waitress comes and hands the man his order. The dark coffee looks up at the two of them, like a silent partner in this whole charade of tranquility.
"Would you like a cup of coffee? They make an exceptionally good cup here." He picks up a spoon, and slowly stirs the liquid. The spoon chinks maddeningly against the porcelain. He scrapes it along the rim a few times, and then plunges it back into the cup. She waits for him to desist, but he keeps stirring in that infuriating way.
She smiles her faint half-smile, and the man is once again blinded by a flash of almost beauty. "No. No, thank you. I don't drink coffee." There is an awkward pause as she fingers her glass, searching for something to say.
"But…" her half-smile appears again, this time slightly wistful. "But…I have a friend who loves it. Everyday she brews her own, and her whole apartment is awash with that heady scent. Her coffee maker is about…this tall." she indicated it's rather monstrous size with her hands. "It's a horrid brown colour, and it looks very ugly. But it is one of her most treasured positions. You wouldn't believe how much it costs." her wistful half-smile turns slightly disbelieving, "It's worth more than two months of my salary."
She looks at him; her dreamy gaze bore into his eyes. He keeps stirring. Unsure of what to say to this strange tale. He finally taps his spoon against the side of the cup, and sets it down.
She stares down at her glass of green tea. One of her hands turns the cups silently back and forth. And she watches as the leave float up and down, in a hypnotic choreography that only she seems to appreciate.
♦
It's a bright, sunny day, and Neal is late. He skids in front of the tea shop and steps into the cool interior. There are only two women in the room. He walks over to where a young woman sits, bathed in sunlight, reading a book. He mutters a hurried "Excuse me" to a lady in glasses, and reaches the woman.
"Hi, I'm Neal Queenscove." He extends his hand. The woman looks at him oddly, and makes to take it. The lady in glasses appears at his elbow.
"Sorry, I'm Keladry Mindelan."
"Oh." shaken, he follows her to their table. His foots steps echo across the room, and for some reason, he feels uneasy. He sits, and she watches him with a dreamy gaze that in the right light could be mistaken for sleepiness.
"How do you do?" He says awkwardly. She makes no reply at first, but then she speaks. Her voice is soft, and light.
"What would you like to drink?"
Startled, he replies, "Oh, anything works for me." He signals the waitress. She saunters over, her eyes dismissing the plain woman in front of him, and looking him up and down in the most obvious manner. Neal feels rather indignant on the Keladry's behalf, and fixes the woman with an indifferent stare. "Coffee please. And you miss?"
The statue in front of him simply says, "Green tea thank you."
The waitress glares at the two of them. "One moment please," she grates out, before heading off in what looked like a vicious pursuit for arsenic.
The silence comes again, and it feels almost like a thick suffocating blanket. Still Keladry says nothing. Finally the waitress comes back, with a decidedly calmer look upon her face. She hands him his coffee, and gives Keladry a glass of hot water, and a small dish of tea leaves. Keladry takes them wordlessly, and Neal can almost feel the silence, tighten its grip. He has to say something.
Keladry takes the dish to her nose and breaths deeply. Neal is surprised that an action so absurd looks so graceful on her. Keladry smiles a half-smile and pours the leaves into the glass, shaking it slightly, and turning the cup silently. Watching enchanted as the tea leaves bobbed up and down, and stained the liquid an almost poisonous colour. Neal wishes she would smile again. He felt like he had missed something the first time.
Suddenly she speaks. "I have a friend who like to tell fortunes with tea leaves. Upon first meetings, so long as they have a glass of green tea in hand, she can judge most peoples characters, and their general future." Another disbelieving smile and Neal inwardly curses himself for missing whatever it was again. "But… We have known each other since we were children, and she has never once told my fortune. So I'm rather disinclined to believe her." She tilts her glass a little, and for some reason, Neal starts listening more intently.
"Many people invite their families and friends over to see her, claiming that she is frighteningly accurate." She looks up at him, and her dreamy eyes seem more focused now.
Neal gives an incredulous snort. "I don't believe in that."
She lets out a short breathe or air, and if you listened closely, it was almost a laugh.
"That's your opinion."
"Why don't you ask her to tell my fortune?"
Her gaze sharpens even more, and so does her tone, though it is still gentle. "What is she? Some sort of waitress at your beck and call?"
"Sorry, I just don't like frauds." His own gaze turns defiant, and his own stubbornness won't let him back down now.
"She is no fraud. She just tells fortunes." Her gaze hardens like a diamond, before it shatters, piercing him, and her eyes are soft again. "Fine, I suppose I have no right to degrade you opinions."
Neal feels almost ashamed of himself, but quickly recovers. "Why do…Why do you go on blind dates?"
She looks at him, and Neal feels like he hasn't worn enough layers today. "Why do you go on blind dates?"
"You like the company?" Neal intended the question to be mocking, maybe even playful, but it some out honest.
"Don't you?"
"Have you had any boyfriends before?"
A long moment, and Neal calls himself seven kinds of idiot.
"Miss, bill please-" she makes to take out her wallet, but Neal stops her.
"I've got it." He glances down at the tea, and notices that it has been stirred into an almost vicious whirlpool. It's strangely hypnotic. The leaves dance round and round, awkwardly graceful. In a sea of green.
♦
Keladry steps outside, adjusting her glasses. She squints against the sunlight, and walks off. Neal steps outside right after her; waits a second, and then follows.
He catches up with her, and for some reason she lets him follow her. They walk in almost comfortable silence, until the round into a narrow alley.
"Well, this is goodbye. Thank you very much for the tea." Her words have a slightly monotonous edge to them, as though they had been repeatedly rehearsed.
"No trouble at all." Neal says, with a gracious nod. But he makes no move to stop following her.
"Is there something else?"
He stops and turns to look at her. "How about we talk some more, head up into that hotel and have another couple of drinks?" Almost immediately, he realises what his offer sounds like, but before he can say anything, Keladry turns sharply, and walks away. After about two steps, she comes back to stand in front of him.
His check stings horribly, but her palms don't even seem red. She takes out a banknote and throws it at him. "Don't think you can disrespect me like that just because you paid the bill." All pleasant dream-like qualities are gone now, as the reserved woman in front of him turns into a full-fledged nightmare.
She stalks off, and Neal scrambles after her. She slides into a taxi, and Neal tries to follow. "I didn't mean it like that!" he cries, slightly angry that she refused to listen to him.
The taxi heads off into the distance and Neal stands watching her leave in the dappled light of the trees.
♦
It's rather cloudy today, and the sun doesn't beat down as fiercely as it did yesterday. Keladry doesn't even look up from her book as she crosses the street. She finishes her chapter, and tucks the book under her arm, where it joins it's other surprisingly numerous and large brethren. There is a man leaning against the wall, and as she passes him, he speaks up.
"Hey, Keladry!"
She stares at him, shocked for a moment, then turns on her heel and walks off in the other direction. Neal follows.
"Look, I just wanted to, here, let me take those books for you," she barley struggles, "I just wanted to apologise for yesterday. I didn't mean it the way it sounded." Her gaze is diamond hard again, and Neal doesn't know why he feels a thrill run through him.
"What do you want? To take me to another hotel room?" It has to be a trick, Neal thinks, nobody with a voice that soft can sound so angry. Still, he supposes he deserved that comment.
"I want to know where you went the other day after you slapped me."
"A blind date," she states nonchalantly.
"Another one?" His voice takes one a slightly disbelieving pitch.
"What's it to you? Are you always this nosey?"
"Yes." Neal replies shamelessly, "I just wanted to know if you wished to meet up with me again. We could talk some more. Over tea maybe?" Neal can't keep the slightly hopeful tone from his voice.
She leaves him suspended for a moment, and then she nods.
♦
"How many blind dates have you been on?"
"I don't keep count. What about you?"
Neal debates whether or not to answer truthfully. Finally he says, "Just once with you." He braces himself for the question that he knows is coming.
"Why did you go on it?" She doesn't sound like she would judge him.
"I broke up with my fiancé."
"Why?" Her voice still isn't judgmental, and Neal decides that maybe a short confession to the pensive book-worm at his side might do him some good.
Neal steadies himself, and takes a deep breath before beginning. "She was cheating on me with another man. Before I left, we had a screaming match, and I asked why she wanted to step on two boats. She just laughed at that, and said that she was the boat, and we were just the oars. She simply picked the one who rowed better. In that moment I really wanted to hit her. But I just finished packing my things and moved into the house we had built. It was leased in my name."
"I'm glad you didn't hit her." Her voice is still void of all judgment, she simply states the facts. Neal feels an inexplicable rush of affection for her. "If you had I would have to disassociate myself with you completely. I can't abide a man who strikes a woman. It is simply a despicable act of arrogance and violence." she stops. "I have to go."
She turns and heads in the other direction, flashing him a real smile this time. Neal feels like he has been hit by a freight train, and yet he still feels like he missed something.
"Why did you follow me?"
"You hit me, and I deserved it!" he said hurriedly, "I also owe you money."
"I can't go with you. I have a blind date."
Slightly put out, Neal simply says, "Then let me come with you."
"What?" Now her tone doesn't seem that soft. Neal rather likes it.
"Really, a male chaperone would be safer. There are a lot of creepy guys out there."
"You would know."
She laughs, and the sound dances gently through his ears, and tinkles like temple bells.
♦
"Here, let me help you." The man pours the hot water into the cup. The leave whirl about as though caught in a furious storm. Oddly violent for such delicate things. Neal watches from his perch at the back of the nearly empty café. Keladry keeps glancing at him, and shifts uncomfortably in her seat, keenly aware of his presence. Neal bites his lip to hide a smile.
The two pause in awkward silence, and Neal waits for one of them to try and break it. To his surprise, it is Keladry who does it.
"It's a rather nice day outside."
"Aren't you hot?" The man's voice is thin and reedy, and alarms start going off in Neal's head. The man continues, "I'll just take off this button, you do whatever you want."
Neal tenses, and waits for Keladry to look uncomfortable, but instead, her face as still as stone, she takes a fan out from her bag. Neal smirks.
The reedy man tries again. "Aren't you bored, with studying every day?"
"Not really."
The man laughs, and Neal looks around for the duck. "Reserved women like you are so rare these days."
She smiles, and Neal doesn't feel like he has missed something, so he knows it isn't a real one. "I…I have a friend. My friend always says to me, Keladry, your strength lies in your reserved nature. Your weakness? That also lies in you reserved nature."
Neal starts pacing. Up and down the café, his footsteps echoing horribly.
"Your friend, is this friend a boyfriend or a girlfriend?"
"If I had a boyfriend would I be sitting here with you?" Neal turns his snort into a cough. "No, my friend is female. When she wants to, she can be very pretty. Never has a boyfriend, she always jokes that the men she associates with would change her faster than the weather." The woman in the table next to them orders a beer. She is the only other customer is this surprisingly well furnished place.
"Look at that woman," the reedy man says disdainfully, "So uncouth, drinking alcohol."
Keladry's dreamy gaze is starting to clear. "My friend drinks. She actually is quite charming. She says that real men are never discouraged when a woman does what is deemed to be a man's habit."
"What does this friend of yours do?"
A beat. "She is also a graduate student." Keladry now looks decidedly uncomfortable, so Neal pounces.
"Hey! Is that you Keladry?" She looks up at him, plainly deciding whether or not to kill him. "It's me! Neal!" He lets out a fake laugh, "I though you looked familiar. You have glasses now, and you hair it pulled back. I was walking up and down here, thinking, it that her? It can't be!"
♦
The letters outside the café are peeling, you can barley make them out. Through the glass, you can see two people. One is a young bespectacled woman, staring out the window, fanning herself absent mindedly. The other is a rather handsome young man, with green eyes and an honest smile.
"Common, you knew the guy was a jerk, I was just helping you et rid of him-"
"Well you got rid of the wrong jerk." Her voice may still be gentle, but her words crack like a whip. She sighs. "Lets just end this here, and go our separate ways…and hopefully not see each other until the day we die."
Neal stares, contemplating her. "You look and act so quite, so reserved, but you have a very vicious tongue."
She glares at him.
"Why do you always go on blind dates?"
"I like the company."
"That's just silly. Why don't you go to a bar and hang out"
"I don't like bars."
"How…reserved."
"It's like my friend says."
Neal pauses for a moment before saying, "Your friend has funny logic."
"I don't think so. She is really quite cynical; it's her mother's experience that affected her so much." Keladry's gaze seems more unfocused than usual. "You'll never guess what she did." A small smile.
"What did she do?"
"She was a beautician."
"That's not so bad."
"For the dead."
"Oh."
"My friend's mother raised her alone; her father was a useless parent. She used to tell my friend quite bizarre stories. My friend would repeat them to me. They were all rather scary. And they were all about weird things that happened to her parents. She would tell me that the whole thing was true. I don't know if I believe her. I am only certain of two facts." She studies her hand. Neal likes her hands, they are really rather pretty.
He asks, "What happened-"
"Anyway," she sighed, "Some people look tough in appearance, and they act tough. But really that just covers up weakness."
A silence. "What happened?"
"Nothing," she says, her tone rather petulant.
Slightly irritated, he pushes. "Don't stop half way."
A pause. Then a faint smile. Neal sees stars.
"She…She lied to her husband when they first met. Told him she was a nurse. Only many years later, after my friend was born, did he finally learn the truth. Then things start to get really peculiar. I was only present at one part of the tale. The rest…all seems as though it is simply a great work of fiction." She glances down at her watch. Her eyes widen.
"I'm sorry, I really have to go."
"Why? The story was just getting interesting! Don't leave me hanging!" Neal pouts slightly, and in his irritation, doesn't notice her gaze warm, and her cheeks stain pink.
"You have my number." She grins, and Neal forgets to breath.
♦
Dom laughs. "Honestly Neal, your wasting your time. That grad student isn't worth your time. Now, Kelly over there," He gestures to the lithe goddess on the piano, "That's a real woman. All long legs and smooth skin. I hear she is great fun to hang out with if you want something deeper."
Neal, not for the first time in his life, wants to hit his cousin. He wants to hit is cousin real bad. "For one thing, that 'grad student' is surprisingly interesting company, and for another, if this Kelly is so great, why do you think I stand a chance with her? You always jump at the chance to degrade me and my love life."
Dom just laughs infuriatingly. "Yes my dear meathead, But if you pay, she goes and hangs out with you. Apparently she is very multitalented as an entertainer. She plays the piano, and the guitar, she knows how to bartend, and there have been other rumors…"
Neal glares at his cousin, "I don't need to pay to get some. Nor am I inclined to."
Dom rolls his eyes, "I mean she is an entertainer, she goes to bars and club, sits and chats with them. Rumors are just rumors."
♦
She sat at the corner table he had reserved. Thumbing through what looked to be 'Lucifer's Hammer'. "That's a good book." Neal is impressed when she doesn't even jump.
She gazes up at him, "What was so important that you called me out of a class?"
Neal slid into the empty seat opposite her. "What happened next?"
"What?"
"In the story your friend's mother told."
"That's the national crisis? You not knowing the end of a story?" She arches an irritated eyebrow.
"Yup," he said grinning.
She sighed. "You had better order some drinks, this will take a while."
"When I was in Secondary school, I saw her father a few times. He had an oddly coloured face, like a stalk of bukchoy, white with a greenish tinge, almost translucent. Long messy hair. He spoke with a strange accent. Now the part of the story I was there for. I was at their house for lunch, and my friend's mother set a plate or food on the table. Her husband looked up, tapped the plat with a chopstick and asked her, 'Did you put poison in this?' I was shocked, why would she put poison in it?
"Her mother looked down meekly, still silent. Her father then said, 'Don't show me that dead face. Marrying you was the worst thing I have ever done. Isn't it bad enough that you smell like the dead? Now you look like them too.' Then, her mother whispered that she didn't poison the food. Her father went into a vicious rage, and swept all of the dishes to the floor. He was laughing and crying, saying 'Please, put some poison in it! Let me die!' I was so scared. All my life I had never met this kind of person. Later, on our way to school, my friend told me that her mother had explained to her as a child, that after she had confessed her true profession; her father started developing psychological problems."
Keladry glances down at her watch. "It that the time!" she exclaims.
"What?" Neal asks, but he knows the answer.
"Sorry, I have a class. Meet me later."
Keladry's green tea sat, still swirling from her constant spinning.
♦
The next day, they meet on the pier. Neal's grin widens as he watches her approach. Keladry smiles her customary half-smile, and Neal does his customary analysis of it, trying to figure out what he is missing.
"You really want to hear this story don't you?" Her voice, though impatient, is tinged with fondness. The two of them head through the market place, and Keladry picks up where she left off.
"My friend's mother was very pretty, and very gentle. She also had particularly lovely hands. When my friend told me about her mother profession, I honestly didn't think it mattered. I understand now that I was in a different position from her father, and that some issues between husband and wife are far more sensitive than they should be. But I don't think that excuses him one bit. I despise that kind of man. Discriminating, and brutal, who not only gets drunk, but would beat up both his wife and child when he was. Some days my friend's sleeve couldn't cover up the bruises."
Keladry extends her own arm, pulling up the sleeve, to expose, soft, pale skin. Neal reached out and felt it. It was very smooth. Keladry snatches her hand away. Glaring she says, "I should have known you were a menace."
Neal chuckles, "Actually I'm very nice, it's only after you get to know me that you discover what an asshole I am."
Keladry tries to hold it in, but her laughter comes bubbling forth, like a cool, clear spring. "Well, you know how to flatter yourself."
"I just want you to know me better." Neal's eyes scrutinize hers, and as she blushes, Neal formulates a new goal in life…or at least a wonderfully engrossing hobby.
"I know you already" she replies.
"Then let me get to know you."
Keladry makes to leave, when Neal grabs her arm. She stiffens, and Neal asks her, his voice so soft, "See you tomorrow?"
"I have classes"
"The day after?"
"Yes."
♦
"Go on Neal, you can pay the fee, and finally have some real company."
"Dom do I have to?"
"Yes."
The song ends and Neal stares as a man approaches her. A bill is extended, and she follows him out.
Dom sighs, "Be quicker next time."
♦
The two of them sit in the boat, quiet and relaxed. The night air is sweet with the scent of water lilies and the sampan bobs happily as the old man up front steers it around.
"And then what happened?"
"Later her dad got worse. Beat the two of them up almost daily. Screaming that he couldn't stand her mothers hands, and that he couldn't stand hers either because they looked so alike. He even made her mother wear gloves all the time. Even in her sleep. On a wall in their house, was a rather long piece of rope. Hanging off of it was a few dozen pairs of gloves.
"Later on, her father became dissatisfied with even the gloves. He said that they still held the stench of the dead. He would say, 'Every time I smell that scent I want to die.'"
Neal grimaces in disgust, "She should have let him."
He is rewarded with another laugh, "Are you god? Do others live and die at your command? Anyway, she wanted a divorce, but he said that it was her hands that caused him all of this misery, so he would give her a divorce…if she cut off her hands." Keladry's smirk was decidedly cynical, as she swirled her green tea.
There was a pause…"Does your friend exist? Are you making this story up?"
"I'm only telling you what she told me. Other than the rope that hung on their wall and the incident at lunchtime, I don't know if any of it is true. Do I really seem to be lying to you?"
"No, not you don't." He sighs. "My ex girlfriends were the kind of people who couldn't open their mouths without lying. But you? You don't seem to be that type."
"Thank you."
♦
"Okay buddy, here it is."
The angel sits down on the piano, and the first few notes to a lullaby of some sort are teased from the keys.
"I really don't want to do this."
"Just go!"
Neal walks over to her. Long artistic fingers and smooth white palms glide across the keys. And a pairof dreamy hazel eyes look at him from under long lashes.
"Keladry?" Neal breathes.
Dom watches from the sidelines. After a moment, Neal hurries back. His face considerably paler than when he left.
"What is it?"
"That's her! That's Keladry, the one I told you about!"
"That's ridiculous!" Dom scoffs, "All the men in here want her. Why would she need to go on a blind date?"
"I told her I'd meet her at the door." Neal says. He sits quietly, and fights the inexplicable urge to ask the waiter for a cool cup of green tea.
♦
The beat of the club pulses through his veins, and shakes the table. And Neal stares at the oh-so familiar goddess in front of him.
"I don't know you played the piano so well."
She gives that same tinkling laugh, and that same half-smile. But this time, Neal sees something extra, instead of a missing piece.
"You drink green tea?"
"Yes, it is especially thirst-quenching." Her eyes are just as dreamy, but she looks so strange without her glasses.
"Keladry-" he starts, and the lady in front of him looks around.
Irritated, he begins again. "Stop, pretending, you are Keladry."
She laughs, "I'm Kelly silly."
"No, you're Keladry."
"Who is she?" Kelly- Keladry, Whoever she is, takes a long sip of her green tea. "Do you have a girlfriend?"
"Not now," he says shortly.
"How many did you have in the past?"
"Only three serious ones."
"Oh?"
"The latest one was my fiancé. We broke up."
"How come?" she sounds soft, and caring, almost too convincing?
"I already told you about it. The oars? Remember?"
She lets loose another dazzling half smile. "You funny…rather odd even. But I have met men. If not five hundred than definitely three. Don't play games." Her eyes are diamond hard again.
Neal tenses. "Who's playing games here?"
Another sip of tea. "It sure as hell ain't me."
"You look like her, you even sound like her. Heck you even play with words the way she does." Neal looks at her carefully, his eyes never leaving her face.
"Who? Me and this Keladry? Kelly, Keladry…wow, they even sound faintly similar. What an odd way to try and pick up a girl. Do you next plan to come over to my place and…verify who I am? I can assure you, at least seven or eight men before you have had the same idea." Another laugh. She picks up his hand.
"You have very big hands, they could wrap right the way around mine."
"Like a glove?"
"Yes…"
"Did you ever hear the story about gloves?"
"Nope."
A sigh escapes Neal, "I have a friend who once told me a story. About a young girl, with a mother who was a beautician for the dead. At first her husband didn't know, but when he found out, he started getting…problems. He made his wife wear glove all the time."
"Is that a true story?" The cynicism that had been in Keladry's smirk yesterday night was all over the face of this…Kelly.
"You tell me.'
Another long sip of her tea. "Hey," she said suddenly, "Which of these three ex girlfriends of yours is this Keladry?"
"None of then. She is just a friend. Or at least I consider her one." There is a pause in which Neal swiftly decides to try and play along to her game. "so why do you do this Kelly?"
"Do what? Let men pay me to hang out with them? What is so wrong about that? It isn't like I'm doing anything illicit."
"I know, but why?"
"It's like…" back and forth, back and forth she swishes her tea, "it's like playing the piano, it's and easy, relaxing way of making money."
"You work all night, what do you do during the day?"
"You work all day, what do you do during the night?" she shoots back.
"Sleep." He says without missing a beat.
She laughs. "I really like you." She leans in and kisses him on the cheek. "I'm off!"
Neal stares after her. And sits alone for quite some time. Watching the tea leaves dance in their glass cage.
♦