Finding Normal, or Something Like That

Chapter Six

Disclaimer: Yeah, I still don't own anything. Darn. I wish I did.

Anyway, here's chapter six, in which the tea shop is underway and Hatter's hat comes into question.

The door squeaked a bit as it opened. Ordinarily, he might not have minded or bothered to fix it, but considering that the squeak itself was coming from the front door of his tea shop, Hatter decided that it would have to be fixed. So, he added it to the long mental list of things that still needed to be done before the tea shop could officially be opened, along with such important things as getting all of the tea in, finish remodeling, and hiring staff.

Hatter let out the breath that he had been holding as he looked around the shop.

All in all, the shop was coming together nicely. It had taken him three weeks to find the space that really spoke to him. After that, it was a matter of negotiating the lease with the building owner – the space his shop now occupied had been empty for six months, the owner, a lovely older gentleman by the name of Winston Charleston, who reminded both Alice and him of Charlie, had said. Jack had willed the money in his bank accounts to Hatter, which turned out to be quite substantial, enough to pay for the tea shop's lease, the renovations, and the initial supplies for starting up the shop.

It still pained Hatter a lot that he owned so much to Jack Heart. He had been raised to be as self-sufficient as possible, so it had been a major effort for him to essentially bury the hatchet with Jack. But he had been willing to do so, if only for Alice's sake.

But he quickly pushed the King of Wonderland out of his mind as he continued to survey the progress of the tea shop.

The contractor had said that it would be another two months before the shop would be ready to open.

In the three and a half months that he had been working on this place, it had come along superbly. The main part of the shop would have, when finished, what Carol had called an "art deco" feeling, a casual environment. In addition to the teas (and a few other drinks, at Carol and Alice's advice), he had relented and would be selling light fare – bagels, donuts, breads of the worlds, sandwiches. And, given that he wasn't as inclined to making food as he was to teas, Hatter had already begun searching for staff in the kitchen and some wait staff.

To be honest, he was more of a business man and he had been grateful for Carol's advice in the décor of the shop. Turns out, his worries had been, mostly, unfounded.

Once she had been sure that he wasn't going anywhere and was actually intent on putting down roots, Carol had warmed to him, though there were still plenty of moments where he was sure that she was testing him. But she made up for it every time he came to her with a new idea for a tea blend.

Alice, he had quickly realized, was not as avid a tea drinker as her mother was, a fact that he was hoping to change with time. It was a shame, really, and he told her that on more than one occasion, though she seemed to have an affinity for iced drinks and really liked iced tea. So, as a result, different varieties of iced teas (and a few coffees, again at Alice's insistence) had made their way onto the menu that he was still cobbling together.

Turning, he surveyed the place.

For the most part, the structure was finished. The walls still needed to be painted and there were a few paintings that he was deciding on.

Very early on, he had come to terms with how integral his love's mother would be. She was a interior decorator, homes mostly, but she had been intrigued by his project and was genuinely interested in it, once he had cemented the plans. Hatter knew that letting her weigh in on what he was doing, design-wise, and listening to her suggestions (though he didn't always follow her advice – there was no way he was going to paint the walls any shade of pink, even if it was more of a red tone). He had to earn back those brownie points somehow. Carol was a smart woman.

The door squeaked again as it opened and, a moment later, Alice slipped her arm through his.

Hatter turned to look down at her. For a moment, all he could do was watch – watch as Alice gave the tea shop an once-over.

"So, what do you think?" he asked, finally, breaking the spell.

She nodded a little. "I can see what you're going for."

"Glad to hear it, love."

"Mom's waiting for us, you know," Alice reminded him gently. "She says that she wants to run another dessert by you."

He laughed heartily. Carol had her moods and would periodically spring ideas on him every time he was at the apartment, which was regularly.

Within the first month of his arrival in this world, Carol had instituted twice-weekly dinners. In the beginning, it had been her chance for interrogate Hatter, and get a better feel for him. However, as she got more familiar with him, it had become a chance for her to relay her expectations for him and those expectations were high. Somehow, she reminded him of his own mother.

"Brilliant." He couldn't help his eye-roll.

"Don't take that tone about my mother!"

"What tone?"

Alice gave him a look. "She likes you, much more than she ever liked Jack. And she worries about me."

"I've heard stories about the mothers of significant others, but your mum is something else entirely. She's a character alright," he explained.

"Like one out of a story," she replied, giving him a cheeky grin and a little nudge.

"Yeah, like one out of a story or something."

She leaned her head against his shoulder. "Come on, before Mom comes to find us."

A little over a half an hour later, Carol was letting them into the apartment. Hatter, now familiar with the procedure and a familiar face, easily slid off his jacket and put it on the coat-rack by the door. His hat didn't follow, like it normally did.

He was in a bit of a playful mood and, as such, wanted to test Carol's patience with him.

Under any other circumstance, he would have taken off his hat and left it with his coat. For him, that was a sign of respect and a sign that he felt comfortable, that he intended to stay – not that Alice or Carol realized that.

While Alice was attached to his hat, Carol had taken the polar opposite approached. She seemed to hate, loathe, and despise it, going so far as to query about getting him a new one. On principle, he couldn't do that. He had brought this hat with him from Wonderland and, while he had bought a few new hats since his arrival to change it up a bit, this one was his favorite (and Alice's too).

Carol walked into the room, took one look at his hat, and visibly sighed.

"You know, David, I've been meaning to ask you about that hat," she began, without so much as any other form of a greeting.

He grinned a bit at her. "What about it, Mrs. Hamilton."

She gave him a stern look. He only called her that when he was either really scared of her or if he was baiting her. The situation could go either way.

"It's looks awful old. I've seen you wear other hats and I was wondering if you ever considered . . . retiring that hat."

"Mom!" Alice exclaimed. "That was rude of you."

"Alice, it's a perfectly legitimate question."

Hatter put his hands on her shoulders. She turned a bit to look up at him, fire in her eyes. "She's right, you know. It's a legitimate question and she's entitled to ask it, if she so wants to."

His Oyster-girl snorted, throwing a look back at her mother. Carol may not know the significance of the hat right now, but the two of them did and that was why he would never get rid of that hat. It was far too important to be tossed away like it was a piece of rubbish.

"Look, Mom, David's a Hatter. He has to have a hat. It just so happens that his great-uncle gave him this hat not long before he died. So, you'll forgive him for being so attached to it."

It was a total fib, but if she was going to start it, then he was all in. After all, he was a con man.

"Great grand-uncle, love, you forgot. Good old Grand-Uncle Madigan."

Carol shook her head as a sign of defeat. She was never going to win this fight, especially when neither one of them seemed to have a problem with his hat. After all, as the old adage went, if you can't beat them, join them.

"Well, now that you're here, dinner will be ready in a minute and the dessert is in the oven."

Hatter visibly perked. "Oh, good, I'm famished."

"Don't forget to take your hat off before dinner."

Laughing mirthfully, he turned and did as the two Hamilton had simultaneously asked. They really were very much alike.

Well, that's chapter six. I hope you liked it. If you did, go click that lovely 'Review' button. I like reviews. They make me happy. Flames are bad, though. They will be used to burn down Houses of Cards.