Her fingers curled around the heavy clay mug and she closed her eyes and brought it close to her mouth, feeling the steam rising from the cup and caressing the skin of her face. Wrapping her lips around the rim of the mug, she felt the pale liquid warm against her lips. Gracefully, she took a sip, enjoying the earthy taste and the herbal aroma on her tongue.

She closed her eyes and leaned back, taking a deep breath. There was something comforting about drinking a steaming cup of tea. It always reminded her of the very first time, of how she learned of its wonderful effect on her body and soul. In her mind's eye, she could still see it, feel it – the warmth of the big old leather armchair as her small body sank into it. That day was etched in her mind as if it hasn't been nearly 50 years since then.

The tears created wet streaks as they rolled down her freckled face. Her feet climbed the short flight of stairs and she stood on her toes, trying to reach the knocker. She was too short and therefore she pounded on the door with her little fists and legs like a wild person until it opened. She looked up at the person who stood in front of her with cold blue eyes that warmed up to the sight of her.

"Dolly died," she cry-hiccupped as the woman in front of her – her grandmother, bent down to level with her 5 years old granddaughter.

"Dolly, your friend or Dolly you dog?" she asked, her voice unsure. The dog was old, she knew, but Dolly, Sharon's best friend, was a little girl who was born with a heart condition the doctors couldn't fix. Any one of these two could have been the cause of her granddaughter's tears.

"My friend," Sharon replied and she felt her grandmother's arms surrounding her and sweeping her off the floor and carried her into the living room.

"Where are your parents?" her grandmother asked when Sharon calmed down a little bit.

"At home," the girl replied, a guilty expression spreading across her tear-streaked face.

"And how did you get here?"

"I ran," Sharon admitted.

"My God, Sharon! You're too young to walk or run here on your own. It's dangerous. You still don't know how to cross the road." Her grandmother's harsh tone seemed to shake the little girl all the way down to her core. She hadn't expected being chastised by her grandmother, even though when she left the house and ran the three blocks that separated her grandmother's house from hers, she knew she was doing something that she was not allowed to do. "It doesn't matter now, sweetheart," her grandmother said when she saw the little girl's expression. "The most important thing is that you are safe." She smiled and stroked Sharon's messy hair. "Do you wanna seat in Grandpa's chair, Sharon?" The girl's eyes widened in awe. Nobody sat on that chair since her grandfather died. Of course, she couldn't even remember her grandfather, because he died before she was even born.

"Am I allowed?" she asked hesitantly.

"Of course you are. He's not here to sit in it, so why shouldn't you?" With her grandmother's help, Sharon climbed up the armchair and sat in it. It was made of leather, but it was very old and therefore soft and comfortable. "Now wait here for a few minutes and I'll bring you something that will make you feel a lot better." Her grandmother said and walked towards the kitchen. Sharon looked around the room, her eyes still wet. She tried not to think about Dolly, but her brain was full of question. She didn't know exactly what it meant that Dolly was dead but she knew it wasn't a good thing. But where did it mean Dolly go? Can she come back from where she went? Did she take a suitcase with her? What did she put in it? As her thoughts wondered to the true meaning of her friend's death, her grandmother walked back into the living room. "Here you go," she said and placed a china cup in Sharon's palms. "Don't drop it. It's the prettiest cup I have." Her grandmother was hesitant about letting go of the cup. Sharon stared into the white cup. It was decorated with blue roses and there was a golden strip around the rim. The liquid inside was golden and reminded Sharon of the beer her father sometimes drank, only without the bubbles in it. "You know, when I feel sad, I always make myself a cup of tea and it makes me feel a little better," her grandmother said. Sharon looked into the cup again and brought it to her lips, taking a tentative sip. It was sweet and flowery and she wasn't sure she liked it, but she couldn't say she hated it.

"If Dolly drinks it, will she be not-dead anymore?" she asked and looked at her grandmother with hopeful eyes.

"No, darling; when someone is dead, they can never come back, just like Grandpa. The tea can't help Dolly, but it will help you feel a little better," her grandmother promised. Sharon stared for another moment into the cup and a warm tear crossed the threshold of her eyes and rolled down her cheek. "It will get better with time, sweetie."

"I miss her already," Sharon said and felt her grandmother's soft fingers brushing her tears away.

"I know. It's hard losing someone you love. Drink up your tea before it gets cold." Sharon took another sip of the tea and then another one. "Do you like it?" her grandmother asked. Sharon nodded slowly and her grandmother nodded in satisfaction.

She could still remember falling asleep in the armchair shortly after finishing her tea, with her grandmother's soothing hands stroking her hair. When she woke up, her grandmother promised her that whenever she had a bad day, she could always come over and have a cup of tea with her, which Sharon did many times over the years. She could remember the day her mother called her in LA and told her of her grandmother's death. Even before the call was finished, she had a kettle on the stove in order to make herself a cup of tea.

She opened her eyes, emptying her clay mug and then taking a deep, cleansing breath as she placed it on the coffee table. She felt arms being wrapped around her body from behind and turned her head to see who it is, even though she could tell by the smell of his aftershave that it was Andy.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked and planted a kiss on her forehead.

"Just about how much I like tea," Sharon smiled at him and it appeared like he wasn't sure whether she was serious or joking. "I'm just glad this horrible day is over and I was finally able to relax with a cup of tea," she explained.

"Well, if you're not fully relaxed yet, I can think of a few ways we can have some relaxing time. How does that sound?" Andy asked. Sharon hummed softly and then turned around in his arms and captured his lips.

"It sounds great. In fact, it's exactly what I need to unwind," she smiled and let Andy lead her to the bedroom, take her clothes off and have his way with her. "Thank you, Andy," she said as they lay in her bed, their limbs tangled and the sheets beneath them creasing under their joint weight.

"I'm glad to be of service," he said as he kissed the tip of her nose. He should have probably thank her, because now he knew what he could get her for Christmas. One could never have too many tea sets.