[Diligence 2] Tea Time

Lugging a 30 lb bag of tea leaves across town was not the favour Venetia had anticipated that Primrose would ask of her. When he said tea, she had expected a few tea bags. Instead, she trudged down the street with the burlap sack tossed over her shoulder, routinely checking the handwritten directions she had been given. She was to deliver to another cherebun who had, apparently, preferred to settle down in Burrowgatory than up in the clouds with everyone else. Venetia would be going from only hearing the stories to meeting her second cherebun in a row. She still felt apprehension at the ordeal. Even though her interaction with Primrose ended on a sweet note, it had begun in a combative manner.

Venetia started to wonder just how far she had walked. Bustling streets filled with clubs and cafes had slowly narrowed into quiet little cul-de-sacs; houses became fewer and further between. Eventually she had come to a winding road with only one house at the end of it. This had to be the one.

Walking up the path, past the rows of neatly trimmed hedges and little garden ornaments, Venetia could understand what could draw a bun to live this far out in the country; Especially a newcomer to Burrowgatory. Even though it is very much Venetia’s scene, the noise of the city can be overwhelming to even the most hardened party-bun.

Dumping the sack at her feet, Venetia rapped on the door with the cute golden knocker and waited. Though her feet were sore from the walk, she still couldn’t control her nervous hops back and forth as she awaited this important meeting. She pondered on what ethereal beauty might answer her this time, painting a picture of a regal, defined being, much in the template of Primrose.

Venetia dropped her shoulders and just looked puzzled as the door opened to the equally confused occupant. Before her stood quite the antithesis of the heavenly host she had expected. There was nothing saintly at all about the studded leather jacket and green, antler-like horns that greeted her.

Venetia was flustered by her seeming mistake. Her face flushed red and she scrambled for the words, unused to the feeling. The other bun leaned back against the door frame, appearing to enjoy the blushing frenzy she had caused.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she pulled the crumpled note from her back pocket and skimmed it once more, “There must be a number out of place.”

As Venetia hurries to excuse herself, the laidback bun spied the bag and the unmistakable scent of tea and chuckled, “Ah, so Prim’s put you to work then?” She pointed to the sack, “You’ve got the right place. They’re in the garden right now, but you can go on back.” She gestured for Venetia to hand over the heavy parcel, and Venetia graciously obliged.

~~~

The welcoming stranger, Jackal, properly introduced herself as she led Venetia through the house. Reaching the kitchen, Jackal prompted Venetia to head on into the garden as she got to work unpacking the tea parcel.

Venetia hesitated at the patio doors, looking out at the garden. It was a beautifully kept garden- not a match to the embassy gardens, but then, she reckoned nothing in Burrowgatory ever would compare to that. At the far end of the garden she spied the cherebun she had been sent to meet with. Taking a deep breath, she started towards them.

On approach, Venetia took in the sight of this new cherebun. They were much more understated and simple in appearance than she had expected: a far cry from Primrose’s grandiose nature. They hadn’t noticed her approach, seemingly too deep in meditation, and Venetia began to feel self-conscious about her interruption. As she lingered, unable to break the peace, the other bun shifted in their seat and turned with a pleasant smile.

Venetia couldn’t help but be at ease under the other bun’s gaze, “Hello, Dove, isn’t it? I’m Venetia. I brought you your tea.” She gestured back to the kitchen where she had left the delivery of tea leaves. At that same moment, Jackal emerged carrying a metal tray with three glasses atop it.

Dove glanced between the two buns, smiling as they watched Jackal make her way across the garden with stern concentration on the full glasses. They pulled out a chair beside them, “Perfect. Won’t you join us for some iced tea then?”

Venetia paused in polite consideration, “I take it this isn’t anything like the iced tea Hops makes?”

~~~

The three laughed and recounted stories like old friends. Venetia was struck by how different these two buns’ lives had been to hers, how different they were to each other, and yet how similar they really seemed. She was strangely aware of how little time she had ever to taken to really ask about other people’s lives before. She might have felt slightly ashamed if she hadn’t been so easily comforted by Dove’s calming presence. She took another sip of tea, ice glided across her top lip as she emptied the last drops. There had been a lull in conversation and the three sat in comfortable silence.

Venetia held on to her empty glass, swirling the remaining ice at the bottom as she gazed at Dove. Finally, she found her voice again, “So… you really do like it better down here?” Her eyes drifted up as she conjured images in her head, “I mean, if the embassy is only a fraction of the beauty of the real thing, it’s hard to imagine ever leaving a place like that.”

Dove sat with the question for a while. Venetia chewed at her lip and was about to renounce her question when Dove spoke, “It’s not really a case of where I like better,” Dove surveyed their surroundings, eyes landing back on Jackal, who was beaming back at them, “it’s about where I feel at home. The meadows were wonderful, but it never felt right, you know?” Jackal reached over to lay a soothing hand on Dove’s arm; a wordless comfort. “It wasn’t easy to leave, to arrive in such an unfamiliar place, but it doesn’t feel like I made the wrong choice. I think I’m finally home.”

Venetia thought back to Primrose, wondering if he too had found his home in the small piece of heaven that was left to him. She couldn’t help her next question, “And the embassy? That’s not home either?”

Dove smiled at the mention, “It certainly holds a special place in my heart, and the buns who make it their home, but I guess I just got lucky with the life I fell into.” Only then did they look back at Jackal. The couple’s genuine bliss in each other’s company quelled any more uncertainty from Venetia. They had found each other, she thought. Home wasn’t so much a place for them but a person. She was encouraged by Dove’s dedication to building a life that honoured their own happiness. And, as she left the home, arms full of bundles of home-baked goods the couple had insisted she take, Venetia knew she’d be back in those embassy gardens sooner than expected, with a new outlook and a whole bunch more questions.