The Tea Party

April 14, 2013
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Today was the annual tea party. The cold wind blew with a rushed urgency, ruffling the tree branches like a child being scolded. Above all the other houses, the grey mansion stood tall with its long roof stretching out and pink windows open. The three aged widows walked up the wide, spacious walkway with their heels clicking and clacking. The sun didn't dare to come out into the open but instead hid anxiously behind the clouds.

The taller woman stood in front of the large oak door, raising her delicate, pale fingers to knock. She clutched her purse, brushed off her thick, pink dress, and stood a little taller. The door was opened by an inexperienced maid.
“Can I take your coats?” the maid asked flustered.
The women simply nodded and handed the coats to her, wrinkling their noses with disgust.
They made their way to the grandiose room where the tea party was always held, every time before. The bright, periwinkle room contained a table covered by a lavender tablecloth. The sandwiches were in the middle, the tea cups put ever so slightly to the right of the plates, and silverware placed to the left. The women sat down, where they had sat every year before and placed the satin napkins on their laps.
Ms. Levitt arrived a moment later. She took her place at the head of the table and decided to begin.
“Hello, how have you all been?” she asked in her booming voice. She had two pairs of twins so her loudness was naturally expected.
“Been fine, thank you. Rosie started college a few months ago and her grades are
spectacular. At this fine rate, she will graduate at the top of her class,” Ms. Carol commented, taking a sip of her tea.
“Yes, Edward is doing even better at his job in the government. He has a meeting with the president next month. Imagine that! My Edward meeting the president. I shouldn't say I was surprised. He’s always been such a bright boy,” Ms. Landon boasted, fanning herself with her red embroidered silk fan.
“Elizabeth mentioned that a few weeks ago. Speaking of my Elizabeth, have you heard she has a solo for the musical? Mr. Rosen described her voice as angelic. Isn’t that something?” Ms. Civet bragged, adjusting her dark brown ringlets.
“Yes, yes. I have an announcement, ladies. We have a new member,” Ms. Levitt interrupted, her cruel, red lips pulling into a smile. She rose from her seat, smoothing her white, lace dress.
A woman appeared at the doorway. She was young, very young. Her brown hair was pulled back from her pale face. She wore a thin, navy, cotton dress with worn, black heels and clasped her flimsy purse tightly. Her hand glinted with the round diamond ring upon her finger, catching the room’s attention immediately. She quickly took the empty seat laid out for her.
“Hello,” she said politely, keeping her eyes trained on her plate. Her hands were clenched tight, knuckles growing whiter.
“Ladies, this is Lily Matthews. She came to me with all the same needs and desires as you have come once before. I assured her we would help her,” Ms. Levitt said hoarsely.
“I need money. I need freedom. I need independence,” she said through gritted teeth.
The women around the room exchanged a few apprehensive looks with one another.
“How much does he have?” Ms. Civet questioned, curious.
“Millions. He barely lets me spend a dime of it,” she said, shaking her head.
“Reminds me of my husbands,” Ms. Landon convulsed, laughing.
“So how shall we do it this year? We haven’t tried poison in ages!” Ms. Carol exclaimed.
“Oh dear, I remember Carlton’s face when it kicked in,” Ms. Civet chuckled, reminiscing.
“Well last time, we used the rope. Hmm…poison does sound alright,” Ms. Levitt considered.
“What do you think, Lily?” the women asked.
Her eyes darted from one woman to the next. Her face had drained of color and looked as though she would faint. “Well….this is my first time. Whichever is easiest,” she said drumming her fingers along the edge of the table.
“Poison it is, ladies,” Ms. Levitt concluded, closing the meeting.
The women cordially said good bye to one another for this year and began their journey back home. Lily trailed behind the three women outside the mansion, nervously pulling on her dress.
On the day of the funeral service, the grass was afresh with dew. The sun was finally out for play, gleaming its relieved rays along the people in the graveyard. The women stood there,
dressed in black, like every time before. They said a quiet prayer and walked behind one another with their black heels and black dresses, which they wouldn't wear for another year.

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This article has 3 comments. Post your own now!

Alyssa-the-only said...
Apr. 17, 2013 at 4:46 pm
great story :)
l0velife replied...
Apr. 17, 2013 at 11:43 pm
Thanks! :)
Alyssa-the-only replied...
Apr. 18, 2013 at 4:16 pm
you're quite welcome :) keep posting stuff :)
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