404: Thought not found

As alongside the Quill, and separated by an open archway, was the Kettle. A tea shop and cafe all rolled into one, it had the appearance of an old apothecary with its shelves lined with a varied assortment of teas. But before the shelves and next to the checkout counter was a bright display of pastries that rested behind glass, all freshly baked that morning. On one wall, a giant chalkboard took up much of the space where a local artist had handwritten a beautiful menu of all the teas offered, though hot cocoa and mulled cider also had a space. Everything that could be locally sourced was handpicked to fulfill the owner’s mission to give back to the community as much as he could.

The rest of the space in the Kettle was taken up by round tables of dark wood that were a mix and match of styles, all picked up from estate sales and flea markets. The chairs too were an eclectic mix, though all had been reupholstered to have dark blue cushions with gold accents. The Kettle was just as cozy as its counterpart. Guests who came into the Quill were drawn in by the scents that wafted from the Kettle, while guests in the Kettle were inevitably called to wander into the stacks of books that the Quill offered.

For where the Quill smelled of pine and citrus, of books and earth, the Kettle was awash with the scent of baking and tea. There was cinnamon and apple, warm bread and vanilla, but also something both herbal and floral. It was both warm and inviting, a perfect sanctuary against the rain that often fell upon the outside town and its sleepy streets.

Within its walls - of both the Kettle and the Quill - they housed paintings by local artists that could be purchased. The owner kept none of the profit of these paintings for himself and it was not unlike a rotational gallery. Artwork rarely lasted very long upon the walls, snatched up by regulars and new patrons alike. The Quill too often hosted signings for local authors. It was in this way that the Kettle and Quill was a shining gem of the community and it seemed like it had always been there.

Then there was the owner himself. Aldric Fjolnir was his name, strange to be sure. Still, he was young - perhaps in his mid-thirties - and very tall. Wide at the shoulder and with all the strength of a bear. His dark hair was kept long, though he would often pile it up in a messy bun. His beard he kept cropped close and well groomed. Aldric had a penchant for dark vests and white button ups, his arms decorated with tattoos under rolled up sleeves. The little old ladies that came about often gossiped about how he did not seem the type to own a tea shop and bookstore, but he greeted each one with a smile and knew their usual orders or what books they had purchased recently.

Yet even a capable man as Aldric still needed help to keep the shops open. Especially when it became such a favourite spot for many of the locals. So that was why Ash had been hired. Ashlyn Forde was a new transplant to town, down on their luck and very thankful for the opportunity that Aldric had presented them. And it was just Ash, thank you very kindly.

“You’ll fit in well here, Ash,” Aldric had said as he handed over the uniform to the newest employee. And that was that.

Ash took shifts in both the Quill and the Kettle, though the Kettle was a particular favourite. Aldric would have the day’s pastries ready in the morning before the shop even opened and so Ash could rearrange them in the display cases until they were a rainbow of sweets and delicacies. There was always something new to try and Aldric always let Ash or the other few employees take home any leftovers at the end of the day.

It was after a month of working at Kettle and Quill that Ash had noticed that Monday afternoons tended to be the slowest. After the rush of the mornings where regulars would hurry to get their teas to aid them through the beginning of the workweek, the rest of the day would be slow with few that came through. But always, without fail, elderly Mrs. Geist would arrive at one o’clock in the afternoon right on the dot.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Geist. Would you like your usual?” Ash asked as she appeared at the counter after a herald of the tinkling bell on the door.

“Oh, please, dearie. I’ve told you that you can call me Bea. And, yes. That would be wonderful! You are too kind, hon.”

Ash always found it odd that Mrs. Geist would always order two Earl Greys with lemon glazed shortbread. It wasn’t strange for guests to order multiple drinks to go, but Mrs. Geist would always take the table in the far corner with her two drinks. One she would set across from her and the other she kept for herself. No one ever joined her as she enjoyed her tea, though she kept up a one sided conversation all the while.

“Oh, you know, the usual, of course,” Mrs. Geist chortled as she lifted her teacup. There was a pause then before she took a sip of her drink, her gaze on the empty chair across from her. “You know Jim. Always on one of his projects. He brought home an old table off the side of the road the other day, but I just didn’t have the heart to tell him no.”

Ash tried not to eavesdrop as they wiped down counters and machines, as well as rearrange the pastry case for the third time, but it was hard not to listen in while in the empty cafe. Mrs. Geist was just so lively and full of life that it was difficult not to be drawn in.

“Oh, did I tell you?” Mrs. Geist’s bright voice drifted over. “Julia is getting married soon! Just engaged. Her partner Henri apparently popped the question just last month, though it’s the first I’ve heard of it.” There was a pause and Mrs. Geist rolled her eyes it seemed by the exasperation that came from her next words. “Yes, yes, Ethel’s daughter. I do remember telling you about her, you know. I might be old, but I’m not senile.” She wagged her finger at the empty chair and then broke off a piece of her shortbread to dip it into her tea.

Half listening to Mrs. Geist prattle on about mundane life and what had happened to her that week, Ash had to feel bad for the elderly lady. They thought she must have lost somebody close to her and could not quite get over the loss. Perhaps she didn’t have friends she could talk to, though Ash thought that was strange with how friendly Mrs. Geist always was. She was harmless though, so Ash tried to keep their thoughts to themself.

And Mrs. Geist did have the aura of a storyteller. When she told the tales of her otherwise mundane activities, Ash couldn’t help but be captivated. It helped to pass the time, though their eyes always seemed to catch the untouched cup across from Mrs. Geist.

The door jingled merrily then and Ash made their way to the till to greet the new customer, a patron they had never seen before. “Good afternoon and welcome to the Kettle,” they welcomed the individual. “Would you like to try our special for the day? It’s a honey vanilla chai that pairs well with our fig and cream cheese tartlets.”

“Oh, no thank you,” the person dismissed as they looked over the menu board with interest.

A ripple of laughter drew Ash’s attention back over to Mrs. Geist, but they quickly pulled their eyes away and gave the newcomer a polite smile. “Of course. Take your time, and please let me know what you would like for me to get started for you. If you have any questions, I’d be happy to answer.”

The guest ended up with a fruity green tea in a takeaway cup printed with a quill dipped into a vintage copper kettle, the logo of the conjoined shops. The tea had been paired with a scone topped with clotted cream and sliced strawberries, carefully placed into a box and tied with a ribbon. As they left finally, Ash wasn’t distracted any longer. They cleaned up their work space to the sounds of Mrs. Geist’s laughter and entertaining stories. Ash never thought the trek to find raspberry jam could be such a riveting adventure. Just another slow Monday afternoon.

Aldric came through at some point and popped behind the counter to check in on things, though he spared Mrs. Geist a fond smile. “Her usual?” Ash only nodded mutely in response to the question. “It’s good to see her doing so well.” Ash thought that may be stretching it a little, but it wasn’t their place to question it. Mrs. Geist did seem to be happy at any rate, so they could only nod once more.

Mrs. Geist remained at her table for at least another hour before she stood up. Just like clockwork on every Monday afternoon. “It was good talking to you, hun. Same time next week?” She said to thin air and that caught Ash’s attention.

“Have a good day, Mrs. Geist. See you again next week,” Ash said with a little wave as they leaned against the counter.

“Thank you, dear! I hope the rest of your shift goes by well!” The old woman adjusted her shawl about her shoulders and then left out the door with a sweet little chime of the bell in her wake.

Ash smiled to themself and then looked over to the corner table where two cups remained. Aldric was usually around to pick up the abandoned dishes, but he had been called away to the Quill for help at the till. So Ash rounded the counter with a tray and a wet rag.

Mrs. Geist’s cup was empty, and plate cleared off, so Ash set them on their tray and wiped off the spot where she had sat. They turned then to the empty chair and reached for the untouched cup of tea.

Ingredients:

4 Eggs

1/4 Cup Milk

1 Cup Cottage Cheese

1 Tablespoon Sweetener (I use Splenda Monk fruit)

1 Tablespoon Garlic Powder

1 1/2 Cups Whole Wheat Flour

2 Teaspoon Baking Powder

1/2 Teaspoon Salt

1 1/2 Cup Grated Parmesan divided

Jar of Pesto (I like Filippo Berio and it comes in a 190g jar)

1.) Preheat oven to 400F/200C

2.) In a large mixing bowl, combine eggs, cottage cheese, sweetener, and garlic powder

3.) Add flour, baking powder, and salt. Mix well!

4.) Add pesto and 1 Cup of parmesan

5.) Pour into 9x9 square pan. You can line it with parchment if needed, but the oil in the pesto means I've never had problems with the bread sticking to the pan myself.

6.) Top with rest of parmesan