Wallace stepped in front of Alan again as he tried to move by. “She can’t. And even if she could, you don’t get to put her through that. I don’t know what it’s like to be you. I’ll never understand what happened to you, or what it must have felt like. But you don’t get to use her to try to make yourself feel better.”
Alan opened his mouth to retort but stopped when Hugo walked through the kitchen doors. The din of the tea shop went on around them, but Hugo was staring at Wallace and Alan, a tea tray in his hands. Mei stood on her tiptoes and whispered something in his ear. He didn’t react. She glanced at them, and if Wallace didn’t know her, he’d have thought nothing of her blank expression. But he did know her, and she wasn’t happy.
Hugo walked around the counter, fixing a smile on his face. He nodded at everyone who greeted him. As he passed Wallace and Alan, he spoke from the corner of his mouth. “Please stay away from her.”
He continued on without stopping.
Nancy stared out the window as Hugo set the tea tray down on the table. She didn’t react as he poured the tea into the cup. He set the cup in front of her before taking his seat opposite her, folding his hands on the table as he always did.
Alan watched them, waiting.
When nothing happened, he asked, “What’s he doing?”
“Being there for her,” Wallace said, wishing Alan would let it go. “Waiting for her to be ready to talk. Sometimes the best way to help someone is not to say anything at all.”
“Bullshit,” Alan muttered. He crossed his arms and glared at Hugo. “Did he screw up or something? He’s got guilt written all over him. What’d he do?”
“If he wants to tell you, he will. Leave it alone.”
And wonder of all wonders, Alan seemed to listen in his own way. He threw up his hands before stalking to the opposite side of the room toward a table where a small group of women sat.
Wallace sighed in relief as he looked back at Mei.
She nodded at him before rolling her eyes.
“Right,” he said. “Kids these days.”
She coughed into her hand, but he could see the curve of her smile.
And that should have been it. That should’ve been the end of it.
Nancy sitting there, not speaking. Hugo waiting, never pushing. The teacup in front of her, unacknowledged. After an hour （or maybe two）， she’d stand, chair scraping against the floor, Hugo telling her he’d be there, always, whenever she was ready.
And then she’d leave. Perhaps she’d come back tomorrow and the next day and the next day, or perhaps she’d be missing for a day or two.
Nancy sat in her chair. Hugo sat across from her. After an hour, she stood.
Hugo said, “I’ll be here. Always. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here.”
She moved toward the door.
The end.
Except Alan shouted, “Nancy!”
The light bulbs in the sconces flared. Nancy stopped, her hand on the doorknob.
“Nancy!” Alan shouted again, stunning Wallace into immobility.
Nancy turned toward the sound of his voice as she frowned.
Alan jumped up and down in the center of the tea shop, waving his warms wildly, screaming her name over and over again. The tables on either side of him shifted as if someone had bumped into them, sloshing tea and knocking muffins over.
“What the hell?” a man asked, staring down at the table. “Did you feel that?”
“Yeah,” his companion, a young woman with pink bubblegum lip gloss, said. “It shook, right? Almost like—”
The tables jumped again as Alan took a step toward Nancy.
Nancy, whose grip tightened on the doorknob until her knuckles turned white. “Who’s there?” she asked, voice carrying, causing everyone to turn and look at her.
“Yeah,” Alan panted. “Yes. I’m here. Oh my god, I’m here. Listen to me, you need to—”
Wallace didn’t think.
One moment, he was a tea plant, unmoving. The next, he stood in front of Alan again, hand over his mouth, teeth scraping against his palm. “Stop it,” he hissed.
Alan struggled against him, trying to shove him away. But Wallace was bigger than he was, and though he was rail thin, he held firm. Alan’s eyes blazed in fury above Wallace’s hand.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” a woman asked Nancy, turning in her chair to look up at her.
Nancy didn’t so much as glance at her. She continued to stare in Wallace and Alan’s direction, but if she saw them, she didn’t react. She opened her mouth as if to speak again, but shook her head before walking through the door, slamming it behind her.
Alan screamed into the hand covering his mouth before shoving Wallace as hard as he could. Wallace stumbled back, hitting a chair behind him. The man sitting in the chair looked around wildly as the legs scraped along the floor.
“She heard me,” Alan snarled. “She heard me. She can—” He never finished. He hurried toward the door.
Hugo said, “If you walk out that door, you’ll lose yourself. And I don’t know how to bring you back.”
Alan stopped, chest heaving.
Silence filled the nooks and crannies of Charon’s Crossing. Everyone turned slowly to look at Hugo. Nelson groaned, face in his hands as Apollo growled at Alan.
“Right!” Mei said brightly. “Because if you haven’t finished your cup of tea before you leave, you’ll spend the rest of your day fretting over what you’ve lost. And we don’t know how to bring it back, because reheated tea is the worst. Isn’t that right, Hugo?”
Hugo didn’t respond. He stared at Alan, unblinking.
“For the love of all that’s holy, listen to him,” Nelson said irritably. “I know you don’t have a lick of common sense, but don’t be an idiot. You’ve been told what will happen to you if you leave. You want that? Fine. Go. But don’t expect any of us to come running to save you if you do.”
Alan’s shoulders were a rigid line. His throat worked as he swallowed, eyes wet and lost. “She could hear me,” he whispered.
“Oh, look!” Mei said loudly. “I just realized today is National Free Tea and Scone Day. We need to celebrate. If anyone wants a free cup of tea or a scone, come up here and I’ll hook you up.”
Most everyone moved toward the counter, chairs scraping along the floor. After all, it was either continue to stare at the odd owner of Charon’s Crossing, or get something for free. It seemed to be an easy choice.
Eventually, Alan stood down, though Wallace could still feel the anger and desperation emanating from him. He turned away and went to the far corner of the tea shop, leaning his forehead against the wall as he shook.
“Leave him be,” Nelson said quietly. “I think he’s learning what this all means. Give him time. He’ll come around. I just know it.”
Nelson was wrong.
* * *
The rest of the day went by in a blur.
Alan didn’t move from the corner. He didn’t speak. Wallace left him alone.
Mei stood behind the register, arms folded, watching, always watching. She smiled whenever someone came up to the counter to place their order, but it was forced, thin.
Nelson stayed in his chair, cane across his lap, eyes closed, head tilted back.