2
“I can’t stand the idea of a young woman dealing with hardships alone.
I couldn’t reach Emma to ask more about the gift cards.
I tried, but the phone number I had was out of service.
It was an old landline number, from before cell phones became the thing.
I have no idea where she lives or how to reach her.
I was surprised to get the message from her daughter.
It arrived out of the blue, but I didn’t want to chance it wasn’t real. ”
Andie rubbed her empty ring finger. “I hate to tell you this, but it sounds like a scam. I’ve heard of this happening.
People, especially caring people, are taken advantage of.
Because it’s a lot of money, I wouldn’t send the gift cards until you can verify the person who asked is who they say.
Scams use AI all the time now.” She looked down, afraid she’d overstepped.
After all, they’d only just met. Heat flooded her cheeks. What would the older woman think?
“I appreciate your candor. You’re right. I’ll follow up tonight. Thank you.” She pivoted toward the counter. “How do you take your tea?” Andrea rummaged in a drawer, coming up with a teaspoon.
Andie hesitated. “Sweet, please. Stevia if you have it. Sugar if you don’t.”
Andrea nodded and returned with a green container of Stevia, the same brand Andie bought.
“I hope you don’t think I’m foolish for not doing more to check about the gift cards.
The voicemail sounded so real. Even the way she signed off sounded like something Emma would say.
It hadn’t occurred to me it might be a scam.
” A deep crease remained between her brows, and the lines across her forehead looked more etched than they had outside.
Maybe Andrea was older than Andie had guessed. She’d lived a full life.
“Hopefully, it’s nothing. That kind of scam can seem so real.” Andie hoped she’d said enough.
Andrea carried the teacups and teapot to the table and poured two steaming cups. The scent of orange spice filled the air. The purple floral cup clinked on the saucer as Andrea pushed them across the table.
“I love your china. It’s beautiful,” Andie said, taking a cautious sip of the steaming liquid after adding Stevia. “My grandmother used to have assorted cups like this, too. The variety reminds me of her.” A wave of nostalgia hit. Her grandmother had been gone for many years.
Andrea smiled. “It reminds me of my grandmother, too. When I was first married, I used to only take them out for special occasions. One day, I realized they spent most of the time in the cabinet. I’d hardly ever used them—which was a shame.
I chose them because they were beautiful, so I changed my policy.
No more saving things for someday or for special occasions.
I use the good china, the new candles, and the special soap.
” She laughed. “Sometimes I dress up fancy for dinner, even when it’s just myself and my husband. ”
Andie looked around. “Is your husband here too? Does he want tea?”
Andrea checked her silver wristwatch, a motion which caught Andie’s attention, as did the device—an old-style one with Roman numerals.
So few people still wore watches, unless they were linked to their phones or were for tracking exercise.
“He’s in his eighties and is having an afternoon lie down in his office.
It’s filled with audio equipment. He calls it his ‘listening time.’” She laughed.
“He’ll have tea when he wakes up in an hour or so.
We’ve been married almost fifty years, and I still like teasing him about his naps. ” She smiled fondly.
The watch was a reminder that Andrea was part of a different generation. Andie couldn’t imagine what would it be like to be married to the same person for so long. Today was Friday, and during her free hours this weekend, she would check into how long it would take to get a divorce.
“So, tell me about you,” said Andrea as she sipped her tea. Her dark eyes seemed interested in more than polite answers.
“I teach fifth grade,” said Andie. “In my spare time I write.”
“Anything I might have read?” said Andrea, peering over her cup.
Andie shook her head. “I haven’t published my writing yet, but maybe someday.” She wasn’t sure what else to say about her writing. She’d never shown it to anyone. Writing something worth publishing was a distant dream.
Her pocket buzzed again, this time continuing for several rounds before it finally stopped.
Dylan was relentless. This time, she chose not to look and ruin her calm mood.
She would pretend he didn’t exist. She sipped her tea, letting the scalding liquid warm her as she and her new neighbor talked.
Not once did the older woman inquire about the bruise on Andie’s cheek, but her neighbor’s eyes strayed to it more than once as they chatted.
Andie didn’t stay long because she didn’t want to overstay her welcome.
Plus, putting off the conversation with Dylan too long would make it more difficult, and she might lose her courage.
When her cup was empty, she stood. “Thank you for the tea. It was lovely to meet you, but I should get home. We both probably need to make dinner.”
Andrea stood and followed her to the front door.
“I hope you’ll come by again soon. I appreciate your advice about those gift cards.
I had my doubts, but I’ll try harder to find out if the request was a scam.
” She hesitated, her gaze flicking to the buzzing phone in Andie’s pocket.
“It looks like you’ve made a tough decision.
I have a long-time friend who is a counselor.
If you’d like to speak to someone who specializes in listening, let me know. ”
“Thank you.” Andie’s cheeks burned again as she left.
It was true she might need someone to talk to.
She didn’t have many options in her life.
Her mother had passed away two years ago, she didn’t know how to locate her sister, and she’d never known her father.
Andie had few friends, and the majority were across the country.
Here in Seattle, she wasn’t just on her own—she was alone.