A Cup of Tea

by Joseph Isaacs 

a cup of tea  

Better than expected.

I stared at the title.

“Happy?” I said to my type writer, but it failed to answer. “Seriously, what is this happy shit?”

I love my editor, but seriously, write something happy? I’ve always expected the worst and I’ve rarely been disappointed.

I glanced over at Clarence’s photo as if expecting him to answer.

“Calm down, Jed!” he would have said. “You can do happy.”

But happy had died with him.

I looked at the paper, blank of all but title, and I knew whatever I was about to write was going to be some contrite shit. Happy. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts. Okay, I can do happy. Omelets. Omelets are happy. What the hell am I going to write about an omelet?

At that moment the doorbell rang. I pushed up from my desk, which creaked like my back, like my legs, like my heart, and opened the door, expecting someone to try to sell me a security system.

It was a hippie with the what you call them—fear-locks or dread- braids or something. You know the knotted, tangled look.

“Uncle Jed,” the hippie said. “Can I stay here awhile, my parents kind of kicked me out.”

“Oliver?” I inquired stupidly.

 I didn’t know Oliver that well. I don’t know anyone in my family that well as we are estranged.  I was surprised he even found my address. He had one of those hiker backpacks with him with a sleeping bag tied to the bottom.

This was going to suck.

 “Well, if they kicked you out, why do you think I would kick you in?”

“Well, you and I have something in common.”

“Oh,” I said. “Oh.”

I had come out of the closet when I was seventeen and my parents had kicked me out of the house too. Those were a tough couple of years.

Oliver put his filthy backpack down on my pristine couch.

“Cup of tea?” I asked Oliver.

“That would be great,” he said, tying his scaredy-locks into a pony tail. “I’m sorry I came unannounced. I couldn’t find your phone number.”

 “I don’t want to inconvenience you. It’s just. I don’t have anywhere to go.”

I shrugged. “It’s a big house since Clarence died. Stay as long as you like.”

I stared down at the words taunting me from my typewriter. Better than expected.