He should have known it was something. They weren’t the types to let things lie as they were.
He wandered the bottom floor of the tea shop, Apollo happily tugging on the leash to hold him in place, Wallace doing his best to ignore the little whispers at the back of his head. They weren’t like what he’d heard with Cameron. These whispers were more forceful, coming from the door, and though he couldn’t make the words out, they had a cadence to them that felt like speech, frightening and enthralling him in equal measure. He was haunting the tea shop, a little boat in a vast ocean. His feet never touched the floor.
Nelson watched him from his chair in front of the fireplace. When Apollo tugged Wallace by him, Nelson said, “You feel it, don’t you?”
“What?” Wallace asked, voice wistful and off-kilter.
“The door. It calls to you.”
“Yes,” Wallace whispered. He spun lazily in the air.
“This hook. The cable. You had one.”
Wallace blinked slowly, coming back to himself. At least a little bit. “You do too. Of course you do. I never thought to ask. What is it?”
“I don’t know,” Nelson admitted. “Not really. It’s always been there. I think it’s a manifestation of a connection, tying us to Hugo, reminding us that we’re not alone.”
“It’s gone now,” Wallace whispered, staring down at the crackling fire. He closed his eyes. Hugo was there, smiling in the dark.
“Perhaps,” Nelson said. “But what it represented isn’t. That can never be taken away from you. Remember what I told you about need versus want? We don’t need you because that implies you had to fix something in us. We were never broken. We want you, Wallace. Every piece. Every part. Because we’re family. Can you see the difference?”
Wallace laughed quietly. “But I haven’t had my third cup of tea.”
Nelson tapped his cane on the floor. “No. I don’t suppose you have. Let’s change that, shall we?”
Wallace opened his eyes. “What?”
Nelson nodded toward the kitchen.
Hugo and Mei appeared through the double doors. Hugo carried a tray filled with familiar cups and a clay teapot. Cameron trailed after them, eyes bright.
Hugo set the tray down on a table. He motioned for them to join them at the table. He said, “Cameron, I have something for you.”
Cameron blinked. “For me? I thought this was for…” He glanced at Wallace.
Wallace shook his head. “No. This is for you. Your first.”
Nelson rose from his chair, tugging the leash from Apollo’s mouth. The dog thought they were playing and tried to pull it back. Wallace jerked from side to side, smiling so wide he thought his face would split in half. Apollo eventually let go, barking at Wallace’s feet as Nelson pulled him toward the table.
“Has it steeped long enough?” Wallace asked as the scent of … oranges? Yes, the scent of oranges filled the tea shop.
“It has,” Hugo said. His hands shook as he lifted the teapot. Mei put her hand on the back of his to steady him. He poured the tea into each cup. Once he’d finished, he poured more tea into a little bowl with the same markings as the teacups. He set the pot down before lifting the bowl and placing it on the floor in front of Apollo. The dog sat in front of it, head cocked as he waited. “It’s ready.”
Cameron hesitated before leaning over the teapot, inhaling deeply. “Oh. That’s…” He looked up at Hugo with wide eyes. “I know that smell. We … had this orange tree. In our back yard. It was … Zach liked to lie underneath it and look up at the sunlight through the branches.” He closed his eyes as his throat worked. “It smells like home.”
“Hugo knows what he’s doing,” Wallace said. “He’s good like that.” He looked at all of them. “How does it go again?”
They knew what he meant. “The first time you share tea, you are a stranger,” Mei said.
“The second time you share tea,” Nelson said, “you are an honored guest.”
Hugo nodded. “And the third time you share tea, you become family. It’s a Balti quote. I took those words to heart because there’s something special about the sharing of tea. Grandad taught me that. He said that when you take tea with someone, it’s intimate and quiet. Profound. The different flavors mingle, the scent of it strong. It’s small, but when we drink, we drink together.” He handed each of them a cup. First Cameron. Then Mei. Then Nelson. Wallace was last. The tea sloshed as he took the cup from Hugo, their fingers close but not touching, never touching. He was careful as he spun in air, pointing his feet toward the ground as Nelson tied off the leash against a table leg. “Please, drink with me.”
He waited for Cameron to go first. Cameron lifted the cup to his lips, inhaling again, eyes fluttering shut. His lips curved into a quiet smile before he drank. Mei went next, followed by Nelson, then Hugo. Apollo did too, lapping at the bowl.
Wallace raised the cup to his lips, breathing in the orange mingling with spice. He could almost picture it, lying on the ground in the grass, looking up at a tree heavy with fruit, the leaves swaying softly in a cool breeze, sunlight trickling through the branches. He drank deeply, the tea sliding down his throat, warming him from the inside out.
Once the tea was finished, Wallace felt like he had only a moment before.
Except …
Except that wasn’t quite true, was it?
Because he’d had his third cup of tea. His gaze drifted to the Balti proverb hanging above the counter.
Stranger. Guest. Family.
He belonged to them now just as much as they belonged to him.
He set the teacup back on the table before he could drop it. It clattered against the table, but the remains of the tea didn’t spill. Cameron did the same. He stared down at the teacup, a look of wonder on his face. “I can…” He turned his gaze up toward the ceiling. “Can you hear that? It’s … it sounds like a song. It’s the loveliest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Yes,” Nelson said quietly as Apollo barked.
“Me too,” Wallace said.
Mei shook her head.
Hugo looked stricken, but Wallace hadn’t expected him to hear what they could. It wasn’t meant for him, at least not yet.
“It’s calling me,” Cameron whispered.
Wallace smiled.
They stood around the table, Wallace floating amidst them, drinking the tea until there was nothing left but the dregs.
* * *
Hugo found him on the back deck, floating horizontal to the ground, hands folded behind his head as he gazed up at the night sky. Mei had tied the leash to a deck railing after he’d asked, telling him he wasn’t allowed to untie it for any reason. The stars were as bright as they always were. They stretched on forever. He wondered if there were stars where he was going. He hoped so. Perhaps he and Hugo could look up at the same sky at the same time.
Hugo sat next to him, wrapping his arms around his legs, knees against his chest.
“Another session, Doctor?” Wallace asked as he grabbed the leash, pulling himself closer to Hugo. His rear bumped the deck. He reached behind him to grab the edge of the deck, holding himself in place.