Chapter 2
TWO
Saving the teashop couldn’t be done without patronage from customers, both the loyal regulars and the casual visitor.
To Yerina’s mind, the Mighty Leaf needed to be more than a place to sell loose leaf.
It was an experience, the same as the roastery in Renstown.
A place for gathering and enjoying a good cup, whether taken alone or with friends.
As much as Yerina adored the Valley’s other establishments, neither the roastery or even Sylvan’s tavern had the atmosphere she wanted in the Leaf.
Standing in the doorway, Yerina assessed the current state of the front room.
After a week of cleaning and creative partitioning, she was reasonably sure that the area by the front counter was fit for guests.
She still needed to place markers to cordon off Haze’s failed indoor pond experiment that was now just a pit.
Terryl had already claimed that task, gone off to hunt down a suitable material to keep guests from falling in.
But there was enough sound floor space for some tables and a navigable path.
Yerina went to the counter where her rough sketch of the floorplan was laid out.
She circled the blobs and lines—an architect, she was not—that encompassed her proposed space.
She added an arrow leading from the counter out to the front wall and drew a squiggly star to mark her approval.
There was room for a dozen people, maybe, if they were willing to squish. Good enough for a soft opening.
The Mighty Leaf had been closed for nearly three weeks all told, according to Terryl, and Yerina wanted to let the townsfolk back in before any skepticism over its closure could build.
A few people who remembered her from her days managing the teashop had come by, mostly fellow shop owners.
The baker from across the street came with a new apprentice in tow whom Yerina had never met.
They enjoyed a quick tour of the space, even lending the Leaf a few spare crates for temporary shelving.
The local vendor Yerina had known from her previous tenure at the Leaf was the same, and they shared a quick cup of tea, discussing Yerina’s plans for the shop.
The vendor left with the promise to return with the current list of varieties at her disposal, and to look into a few more Yerina requested.
Other neighbors were only able to stay for a moment, just long enough to say hello.
But any lingering fears Yerina might’ve had that her fondness for the place wasn’t shared diminished with every kind word and sentiment at having her back.
Though Yerina knew her place in the community at large had yet to be earned, being remembered and welcomed with such warmth left her even more eager to open the Mighty Leaf’s doors.
“One section at a time,” she said to herself.
Alone in the shop, it fell to Yerina to move two more tables over.
One used chairs for seating, as was typical in much of the Empyrean Territories’ mainland.
None of the chairs matching the tables was…
less common, but Yerina called it part of the teashop’s charm.
The other table was low, with the guests meant to sit around it on cushions in the tradition of the Radiant Isles, where Yerina’s family descended from.
It was beautifully carved from wood that had a golden patina, and an inlay of marble.
It also felt like it weighed as much as the other table and its chairs combined, and after pushing it across the floor, Yerina was ready for lighter work.
After making sure all of the display jars were full of tea, she hauled out a crate full of cups and mugs for future customers to choose their own vessel.
The shelving situation wasn’t the most elegant, but it would suffice until she could get something nicer in place.
The Mighty Leaf had many levels yet to come as its story unfolded.
For now, they had an operational kettle warmer, working—if not entirely enclosed—pipes, and a decent, if not hugely varied, stash of teas for serving, plus a source for obtaining more.
All of the necessary parts for the teashop to begin anew.
Assembling a casual tea tray for herself, she brought out her favorite mug, the only one she’d brought from her collection back home.
It was sturdy rather than elegant, short and with a handle a tad too chunky for the size, but it felt good in her hand.
The cheerful yellow glaze always made her smile.
As the water heated, she wondered if Dexter still made drinkware, and how his style must have changed, his skills grown, in the years since the sunshine mug.
Yerina placed a speckled stone she’d found in the rubble of Haze’s failed pond at the edge of her tea tray. Not the prettiest of tea pets, but seeing as her collection was back in Central and she found the stone’s patterning pretty, it seemed a fitting alternative.
She’d chosen leaves and raised the kettle to warm her mug when a shadow darkened the window. Dexter stood outside, hand raised as if to tap on the glass, but he’d stopped with his arm outstretched.
They blinked at each other for a moment, before Yerina’s mind and eyes caught up. She jumped to her feet, hurrying to the teashop’s door.
“Dex! Come in. Have tea with me, please.”
“Didn’t think you were open, but I saw you sitting there, so…” He cleared his throat. He stopped in the entryway, his gaze roving across the shop’s main seating area, though he hesitated to step further inside.
“Not officially, but you can be the first.” Yerina gestured to her freshly stacked and shelved cups. “Choose whichever one speaks to you.”
Dexter’s gaze flickered to her, then away as he gave a small shake of his head. A snort blew through his nose, but he didn’t comment, instead selecting a red clay mug whose dark glaze only covered the interior.
He sat across from Yerina, eyes immediately going to her own mug as she warmed both vessels. “You kept it.”
“Of course. It was a gift from…” Yerina’s hands shook as she placed the kettle back on the tray. Warmth rushed into her cheeks as the silence began to stretch.
Which was silly. She loved that mug. The man and the memories it brought too, even if the feelings were reserved for the past.
Dexter watched her, quiet and patient as a cat.
A permanent line had begun to crease his brow, brought on by the stern expression he so often wore.
No, not stern. Serious. A solemnity his features naturally assumed.
People called him grumpy, but Yerina knew otherwise.
She remembered the boy of few words and even fewer smiles who could often be seen around town.
Helping. In the shops, or in the fields and small farms dotted throughout the Valley.
Anyone who needed strong, able hands, who needed work done, dependably and without excuse.
He wasn’t a warm person. Losing both of his parents young probably had a hand in that, or maybe it had always been in Dexter to be reserved. But Yerina knew there was no bite to him either. That Dexter had kindness in him, the boy he’d been and the man before her now.
Still, there was a touch of shyness in her voice as Yerina murmured, “From you. It’s my favorite. One of my treasures.” She poured their tea and then held the mug lovingly between her hands.
Dexter’s lips twitched before they were hidden behind the rim of his mug. He watched as Yerina poured tea over the scavenged pebble. “What is that?”
“My tea pet.”
“Your what?” He squinted at it. “Is that a Graelynd thing?”
Yerina shook her head. “Something I’ve borrowed from the Bai islands, though I think it’s been adopted in some element by a few Radiant Isles practices. Just a little treasure for my board.”
Dexter eyed the rubble, then the mug in her hands. “Rocks, eh? You need a better pet.”
“It’s lovely. And it’s from the Leaf,” Yerina said with a laugh. She sighed, the sound full of hope as she gestured at the space. “It’s going to be wonderful again. Always has been, but we’re going to clean it up and it’s going to be as good as before. Better, even. Can you imagine?”
A dry chuckle of an exhale was his only response, but when Yerina looked back, Dexter wasn’t gazing around the shop, but at her.
“You haven’t changed,” he said quietly.
“Neither have you.” She grinned at him over her mug.
Same old Dex, growly voice and all. One that made her stomach flip.
That had heat simmering at her center as she remembered all too well how it felt when he detailed every salacious thing he wanted to do to her, his voice a low rumble at her ear.
Words accompanied by the stroke of his fingers, or the graze of his teeth along her throat.
For sometimes, he did have some bite to him after all.
But that was the Dex and Yeri of the past. Five and a half years—it was forever and nothing at the same time.
Yerina held his gaze, curiosity and a touch of vulnerability creeping in. “Did you think I would? Change?”
“I-I don’t know.” He glanced away, his head coming up as something beyond the window caught his eye.
Yerina followed the direction of his gaze, brightening as she saw Eunny and Anadae skipping ahead of Bioon as they came up the street.
“My niece and her friend,” Yerina explained. “And my sister, Bioon. Would you like to meet them?”
Dexter stood up. “Another day, maybe.”
“She’s a different person now, Dex. I don’t want your only impressions of her to be whatever I might have said when we were younger.”
A disbelieving hum was his only response.
“Truly,” Yerina said. She hadn’t exactly complained about Bioon before, but there might have been a time or two where Yerina expressed frustration over her sister’s… Selfishness was such a harsh word. Single-minded vision, perhaps. “She’s very dedicated to her work.”
He snorted. “I believe that.”