Tatami Tea Table Novels & Stories

I nod and walk through the archway and into the common area of the packhouse, where we’re holding the event. I glide around the tables, my heels clicking on the hardwood flooring. Pack females from both Crescent Lake and Silver Ridge greet me as I walk through the room, and I smile and wave at them all. Just as they turned the pack grounds into a winter wonderland for Haven and Wesley’s wedding a week ago, they’ve turned this common cabin living room into a gorgeous glittering tea room. The tables each have a soft purple tablecloth draped over them, and centerpieces of eucalyptus and white anemones. The white porcelain tea sets rimmed with gold are decorated with the moon phases across the m

Real pastries, placed on an actual tiered tray. Real tea, brewed to the correct temperature because I wasn't a barbarian. Actual porcelain cups (except for Claire who still used a sippy cup because she’d spill her tea otherwise) The low table sat in the middle of the room, spread with a freshly ironed tablecloth, a vase of yellow carnations that I had rush-ordered, and three neatly folded cloth napkins. Pillows were arranged around the table. Presentation mattered. If this was going to be a tea party, then by God, it was going to be a proper one.

The chime on the door brought me out of my thoughts, Matt was here. “Oliver long time,” Matt said bowing his head. “Where would you like me setting this up,” he said with his hands full. “Here,” I said moving two tables together so he had enough room. “Take your time, she is still busy on the phone.” Matt looked up at me confused. “How do you know?” “She owns the tea shop.” “Ah yes, I’ve been there, quite nice in there. The teas she has there are specially ordered, I don’t know if there is anything she is going to want from me,” he said with a sad face.

This is test number one. “Hey everyone! This is Selene. Of the Merrick Ad Company. She is a dear friend of mine.” Sia smiles as the long rectangular table. There are about ten women in a lot of pastel tea dresses. The tables are decorated with gold trim China. Crystal glasses with gold trim and flowers all down the center of the table. The room is beautiful with its curved ceilings looking like we are in an old train station. The black trimmed windows show a beautiful day outside with tree lined streets of New York. “Oh, it’s nice to meet you.”

Bone china plates polished to a brightness that makes the whole table look like it is generating its own light source. Tapered candles in silver holders. The whole room smells like wood polish and something floral and the specific formality of a place that takes its own history seriously. I walk in and find the seating chart. My name is in gold calligraphy, second chair from the left. Directly beside a card reading Eli Hayes in identical script. I turn around to look at Americus. She is already in the head chair, sparkling water in hand, wearing the expression of someone who has been waiting for exactly this moment.

It wasn’t comfort. It was a surrender, a warning and a promise, and I’m not sure which one of those frightens me more. … The high hall is quieter than usual when I sit across from Amber at the long stone table. The morning sun filters in through the carved arches, catching the edges of the tapestries. She has a scroll open in front of her, her tea steaming, her eyes scanning me more than the words. Fresh bread. Dried meats. Mint and elderflower in my cup.

The Collins’ dining room glowed with the soft warmth of a crystal chandelier, its light bouncing off polished mahogany and gleaming silverware. The long table was dressed like something out of a magazine with delicate china plates, folded linen napkins, and a centerpiece of orchids that Amara’s mother had arranged hours earlier with meticulous care.

A broad hand appeared at the edge of the door and opened it wider. The room beyond was not a classroom, chamber, or hall. It was a tea room. At least that was the closest Amelia could come to naming it. Dark shelves covered the walls from floor to ceiling, crowded with jars, tins, cups, glass bottles, bundles of dried herbs, and small objects she did not recognize. Round tables were scattered across a rug worn thin in the center. The ceiling was low compared to the rest of Waycross, draped in fabric that moved slightly, as if breathing with the room.

I extended my hand, helping her out, and when our fingers touched again, that electric current returned. "What a beautiful place…" Giulia said, admiring the entrance decorated with bamboo and small water fountains. "I hoped you'd like it." I took a deep breath. "I thought it would be… special." We walked in and were greeted by a smiling hostess, who led us to a private area. There were tatami mats on the floor and low wooden tables, with soft cushions to sit on. Small lanterns hung from the ceiling, creating a warm, cozy light. When she saw the reserved table, a mix of surprise and enchantment took over her face.

Everything was just in place and felt like a perfect place to really chat over tea and maybe take a nap. “Hey ladies… She’s here” Aneesa beamed, walking closer. I held my breath as I decided to give my attention to the ladies in room. My lips stretched into a faux smile. All the ladies rose in unison, dropping whatever was in their hands. Like a way of showing respect for my presence. Okay that’s nice of them. Aneesa gestured for me to come closer to the table and take up the empty seat that was meant for me. The table is oval shaped and decorated with linearts of flowers and in front of each chairs are cute teapots and teacups.