The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

When the Day Comes
by Sue Renol

Each morning my grandpa placed the tea set with care, and each time, it was arranged exactly the same way. It was curious not only to me, but the rest of our family. While they looked down on him with judgement, whispers of ‘crazy’ going back and forth between them, my interest was of a kindhearted and more inquisitive nature.

I once asked him, “Why do you do this every day?”

“I’m waiting for someone,” he replied.

“But it’s all rusty, who’s going to drink from that?”

Grandpa just smiled a bit and closed his eyes.

I tapped my foot, waiting for an answer that never came from his lips.

“Grandpa?”

“Yes?” he replied, as if he’d forgotten the whole subject.

“Why do you set up these old tea cups every day?”

He placed his hand on my shoulder and a single tear fell from his eye. “When the day comes, you’ll see.”

That only deepened my intrigue. So, I made a habit of visiting him every single day. To watch, to study, to perhaps learn something from my elder. As each sun rose in the sky, he woke and the first thing he did was set up for tea. Afterward he’d seat himself in the kitchen and just watch the day pass by. He always had his favorite blend of black tea at the ready, but he never brewed any to drink. I wondered who he waited for, I imagined what he knew was coming. And I say he knew because I never saw a wink of doubt in his face. His very being hummed with assurance that the day he waited for would come. This gave me enough reassurance that I wasn’t spending my time with an old man who’d lost his mind. He was very much sane, and more quick in mind than most. He was wise.

I wanted that very same wisdom.

I knew I was young, and hadn’t the years behind me to have achieved that, but I had determination. That was all I needed.

Time passed slowly over the next few months. Watching, waiting, until it became us doing it together. He no longer waited alone. I think that gave him some comfort. I think he appreciated the company. Mother said he’d been a solitary man after Grandma died at a young age, just after Mother was born, but deep down he did appreciate someone nearby.

When the day finally came, I woke to Grandpa up early, a pot of water heating on the stove. He looked at me with that same smile and said, “Today is the day.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I watched silently as he steeped the tea for exactly three minutes. Not a second less, and not a second more.

“Perfect,” he said as he removed the bags from the pot and poured one serving into each of the two cups. Steam rose in the morning sunlight beaming through the window. Then, within that vapor, a human shape appeared. It swirled unnaturally and coalesced into a woman. As her image became more clear, she became fully formed, completely solid. She looked familiar. I’d seen her face before.

The woman smiled as her and Grandpa embraced.

“It’s been so long, my dear,” Grandpa said, sobbing. “I’m sorry.”

I then remembered where I saw her before. I looked at Grandpa’s wedding photo on the wall to confirm what I already realized. And there she was, with Grandpa then, and now here, returned, in the flesh.

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Fiction © Copyright Sue Renol
Image courtesy of Pixabay