"Willow's Tail" 24

Perfidia placed a small plate of scrambled eggs in front of Willow and the cat licked her hand. She froze, unsure what it meant. She’d never had a cat lick her, or like her, but then she’d never had a…she was about to say ‘pet’ but hearing a guttural meow she changed her thought to ‘feline friend’ and earned an approving purr. She lifted her hand and smiled thoughtfully at the cat before turning to the tea kettle whistling on the stove.

“Are you ready for today?” Perfidia asked, placing a cup of aromatic tea in front of Martha along with a plate of eggs and bacon.

“I think so. Willow brought me flavor cuttings from my hidden garden.”

“Are you sure your hidden garden wasn’t tampered with?”

“I’m positive. The entrance through the willow tree doesn’t exist-”

“Without you or Willow,” Perfidia concluded, “I’m Impressed; so your blends will be superb and we’ll be one day closer to the unmasking and if it is Dillon, I’ll find the honey and I know Willow can gather the bees.”

“Maybe we should win before we plan a revenge.”

Perfidia shrugged. “I think we can do both,” she affirmed before taking a sip of her tea.

Martha wasn’t convinced; no matter where the clues seemed to point, she had serious doubts of their validity.

“This breakfast is delicious,” Martha complimented, hoping to draw the conversation away from havocs and festivals.

“I thought we’d need sufficient sustenance before today’s contests.”

Willow gave a soulful meow that conveyed her thoughts on that.

Martha and Perfidia agreed with the cat, deciding to relax and enjoy the morning meal, and if 'the calm before the storm' had entered their minds, none offered up the idiom.

 

Martha arrived at the auditorium and was directed to one of twelve makeshift kitchens set up on a large stage for the contestants. Two other entrants were already there setting up their stations.

Martha unlocked the cabinet and took out the container holding Odessa’s tea leaves. An alluring aroma escaped when she opened the lid telling her the leaves had not been tampered with. She took a few of the leaves placing them in a bowl then opened the glass container she’d brought with her that held cuttings of lemongrass and orange thyme; she added these to the tea leaves for what would become an exceptional citrus brew. She carefully blendied the tea then spooned it into a silk tea bag and tied it closed.

Perfidia took a seat in the front row and gave Martha a thumbs-up sign but nearly jumped out of that seat when Willow leaped onto her lap.

The cat kneaded her paws into the soft cashmere sweater Perfidia had placed on her lap and she was about to scold the cat for ruining her clothes when the feline settled down with a purr of contentment. Perfidia wasn’t sure what to do with the intruding feline and hesitated a moment before gently resting her hand on the feline’s back. The cat didn’t shake it off so she relaxed.

Willow looked at her human on stage and gave her a slight wink for luck before closing her sleepy eyes for a nap.

 

“Martha it is you!”

Martha turned at the familiar voice and was immediately engulfed in an ample embrace.

“Hello Odessa,” she mumbled into the other woman’s shoulder.

“It’s so good to see you Martha,” Odessa gushed before releasing her.

 “I’m happy to see you too Odessa. I wanted to thank you for those tea leaves. They were a gift I truly needed.”

“So you’re using them.”

“Yes, they’ll be the base for my entries.”

“Then I’m sure you’ll win.”

“Aren’t you entered too?”

“No, I took my name out of the competition; I was only going to enter so your leaves would be noticed.”

Martha felt humbled by her friend’s unselfish gesture; a more caring soul would be hard to find.

“You truly are a good friend Odessa,” she said with sincerity but noticed Odessa’s expression had lost its welcoming smile. “What’s wrong?”

“I thought I was a good friend too but…why didn’t you ever reach out to me after you left?”

Martha’s smile faded; she’d dreaded these conversations. She had left without a goodbye or forwarding address and coming back would open questions she couldn’t easily answer, and she had no time to properly answer now. Thankfully, at that moment, the judge announced a twenty minute deadline to prepare for the start of the competition.

“I’m sorry Odessa but I have to prepare; can we get together after the contest ends and talk over a cup of tea?”

“I’d like that,” Odessa nodded,” And good luck Martha, though I don’t think you’ll need it,” she said with a renewed smile before walking from the stage and taking a seat in the row behind Perfidia.

 

Miriam was directed to her kitchen set up and noticed Martha at the next station, her expression soured.

“Good luck Miriam,” Martha offered in a friendly tone, hoping to reassure her old friend.

“You too,” Miriam returned the good wishes but with a less than a chipper tone, and a rather shaky smile.

Percival walked onto the stage holding a small container that he brought over to Miriam and noticing Martha, he smiled. “Good Morning Martha,” he said giving her a brisk wave.

Miriam’s expression slid into annoyed and she grabbed the box out of his hands.

“You need to go sit down; the contest is about to start,” she whispered coldly.

Percival didn’t adhere to her request or notice her irritation; he took her hands in his and offered his encouragement.

“You’ve no need to worry Miriam, your tea is perfection, just like you,” he said with sincerity and placed a kiss upon her cheek.

Miriam’s expression brightened and her eyes softened on him.

“Thank you Percy, but you do have to go sit down so I can set up,” she scolded in a gentler tone.

Martha wished Miriam knew she wasn’t her competition, well, not for Percival anyway, but acknowledged it was another friendship in need of repair. She sighed and began to fill the teapot with water as the judges warned the contestants they had fifteen minutes.

Perfidia's eyes narrowed on Percival, recalling Martha’s story, as he walked from the stage. She wanted to ask him about his twin brother but knew Martha wouldn’t approve. Still, if she found the opportunity to ask a question out of Martha’s ear shot…what was that saying? If a tree fell in the forest and no one was around to hear it, did it make a sound? So if she asked Percival a question far away from Martha…did she ask it? Who would know? Not Martha.

Anyway it didn’t matter, she’d already decided she’d talk to Percival and, if Martha did hear of it, she’d apologize later.

Perfidia gently shifted Willow from her lap on to the chair keeping her cashmere sweater in place to continue the cat’s cozy comfort.

Willow gave a disgruntled meow but since the soft pillow remained, she allowed the transition.

Perfidia stood up and glanced at Martha who was filling a teapot with water and not looking her way. The contest wouldn’t start for another ten minutes so she had just enough time to corner Percival.

Perfidia walked down the aisle scanning the audience for Percival but he wasnt seated anywhere. She stepped into the entry hall but found it empty. There was a sign for the concession stands outside the entry hall doors and a sign directing patrons to the restrooms, but she had no clue which he’d followed.

Perfidia was about to give up when she saw, through the large glass entry doors, Percival walking outside. He was heading towards the concession stands and she quickly walked outside and followed him, dogging his steps until he turned around.

“Good day to you Perfidia; are you heading to the stands too?”

“Yes, I wanted a cool something while I watched the contest.”

“My intent too,” Percival nodded.

Perfidia stared at him. Was he trying to hide a smile or was it a burp he was trying to swallow; it was most likely the latter she decided.

“So, how are you?” she asked as they stepped up to the small queue at the lemonade stand.

“I’m doing well and yourself?” he responded with a slight chuckle.

Perfidia caught the levity and noted a humorous glint in his eyes. Okay, so he knew she was up to something, so what, it wouldn’t stop her questions.

“I’m doing fine and…how is your family?” She asked with casual interest.

Percival’s brow went up at her query, but it didn’t appear to be in surprise. If Perfidia had to define it, it appeared cynical; if a raised brow could be cynical, this one definitely was.

“Any member in particular you’re curious about Perfidia?”

The way he’d said it was unlike the congenial Percival she knew and she quickly looked down at his hands. No family crest to be found on any finger but he seemed different, or was Martha’s story playing with her perception of him? She brushed off the odd impression.

“Just asking, in general, but…is there a particular member you don’t wish to talk about?”

Percival laughed outright and it was a rich, deep laugh that skated over Perfidia’s nerve endings and stood them at attention. Was this Percival? It looked like him, but it sure didn’t sound like him.

Percival was next in the queue and turned away to place his order before turning back to answer her.

“My parent’s are doing well and they still live an hour out of town; my brother has his home in California. Does that answer all your questions?”

“Oh, I don’t think I’ve ever met your brother.”

“Pity, he’s rather a fun fellow,” he said as the vendor handed him the two drinks he’d ordered and he handed one of the large cups to Perfidia.

“Uh, thank you, very thoughtful, but you didn’t have to buy my drink.”

Percival handed her a straw and she reluctantly took it.

“You’re welcome,” he said with a half smile.

Perfidia fidgeted with the paper straw and felt she was missing a beat, something was off in this exchange; it felt like he had the upper hand in the conversation, and that was most unusual for her.

Percival cleared his throat and Perfidia looked up from her crushed and useless straw.

“Although I’d like too continue this little chat we’re having Perfidia; I should get back to the contest. I don’t want to miss the competition.”

“Of course not, we should get back.”

“Then I’ll see you inside.”

Perfidia mumbled some agreeable response and watched him swagger away, no other word could be applied to it; he was, in fact, walking with a decided confidence in his step. She’d never applied a swagger to Percival, never noticed Percival having a stride like that but, was she imagining it? Knowing he had a twin could be effecting what she thought she saw, skewing her perception of him, but…it would be easy enough to take off a ring.

Perfidia blinked and realized she was standing there in stupefied thought and Percival had already gone back into the building. She hurried to catch up but before she could, she was stopped by someone calling out to her.

“Perfidia, oh Perfidia…please wait.”

Perfidia looked around and saw Roger juggling three large soft drinks.

“Where are you going with these?” she asked when he caught up to her.

“My mother came to the fair today and I have to bring these to her and Gloria; they’re seated in the auditorium watching the tea brewing contest. I do hate to impose on you, but can you help?”

“Your mother is here?” Perfidia’s voice squeaked as she repeated his words.

“Yes,” he said putting one of the oversized cups into her free hand.

Perfidia had no desire to see his mother but she was sure his mother would just love to see her.

She’d have made an excuse if it would do any good but, since Gloria was in the flower contest with her later this afternoon, they were bound to run into each other sooner or later. She may as well get it over with now.

“Sure I can help you,” she mumbled.

“Thank you,” he said with a sigh of relief.

They walked into the auditorium and Perfidia followed him to a row mid-way down.

“Here you go,” Roger said handing one cup to his mom and the other to Gloria, “And Perfidia was kind enough to help me carry them in.”

Perfidia shrank behind him and wished he hadn’t given her credit because, just as she’d suspected, Roger’s mother turned around at the mention of her name.

“You,” Mrs. Appleton exclaimed with sizzling accusation.

“Yes, it’s me,” Perfidia responded brightly, “and I’d love to stay and catch up but I promised to be front and center to support Martha so…toodle-oo,” she said the last as she handed Roger his cup and then wiggled her fingers as she trotted away.

Perfidia was in such a hurry to get away from the Appleton’s she raced up the aisle and nearly tripped over a foot extended into the aisle. She turned to look back at the owner of said foot and noticed Percival tucking his back into the row with a slight smile.

Excuse me?” She demanded; her tone waspish.

“I’m so sorry Perfidia, I was just stretching; didn’t mean to trip you up.”

He offered the apology, sounding repentant enough and sounding more like Percival. She stared at him, thinking she must have imagined those differences earlier.

“Just watch it, okay?”

“Of course,” he nodded.

Perfidia made it back to her seat wishing she’d never left it and lifted Willow carefully up from the chair to place her and the cashmere sweater back on her lap.

The cat looked up at Perfidia and shook her head.

“Yes, I know. I should have stayed here as your pillow.”

Willow purred in agreement and promptly went back to sleep.

 

Martha poured hot water into a delicate teapot over the silk teabag within then placed the small lid on the teapot to let it steep. She'd noticed Perfidia retaking her seat and wondered if she’d been up to something but the judges were making their way to Miriam’s station so she couldn’t dwell on that curiosity, her brew would be judged next.

The judges tasted each brew and conferred before returned to the stage to advise the six entrants who’d be moving on; Martha and Miriam were among those returning.

“See you tomorrow,” Martha said giving Miriam a sincere smile as she walked from the stage.

Miriam grudgingly acknowledge her with a slight nod.

 

Perfidia and Willow were waiting for Martha by the exit door.

“Now it’s on to Willow’s amazing cat competition,” Perfidia said breezily.

Willow made a sound much like a grunt as she walked ahead and out the door.

“Yes but first, what was going on Perfidia?”

“What do you mean? Oh, when I was helping Roger carry in drinks to his mother and Gloria?”

“Hmm, was that all you were doing?”

“Why, what did you think I did?”

Martha only had an intuition, no facts, that Perfidia was up to something. “I’m not sure, but yes, we should head over to Willow’s contest and then, you’ll be up next.”

“Not worried, that cat’s got it covered and your orchid has no competition,” Perfidia replied with confidence just as she walked into the path of someone she hadn’t noticed and fully collided with.

Martha’s eyes widened when the man turned to face them.

“Oh excuse m-” Perfidia’s apology unfinished as she stared into the too well remembered, piercing, blue eyes of Jonathan Fairchild.

“Jon?”

“Pleasure to see you Perfidia.” He nodded.

“What are doing here?”

Jon noted her shocked expression and shrugged. “Sorry if I stunned you.”

“Stunned? Why would I be stunned? I’m just curious that’s all.”

“It is nice to see you Jon,” Martha interjected to give Perfidia time to compose her reaction.

“Hello Martha and congratulations; I hear you’re winning in the tea contest.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m winning; there’s more competition tomorrow.”

“You needn’t be concerned; I remember your excellent brews, you’ve no competition.”

Martha smiled at the compliment and thanked him while Perfidia grew suspicious. How had he known Martha had competed and won? He hadn’t been there. 

Perfidia narrowed her eyes on him. “So why are you here?”

Jon shifted his gaze to Perfidia and stared at her for a heartbeat before he answered.

“I received an invitation to the festival from a friend and thought it would be nice to return to my old hometown.”

“Oh,” she mumbled, feeling her heart flutter at his direct stare and hating her heart for its traitorous rhythm.

“And I’ve entered my cat in a competition too.”

“What?” Both Martha and Perfidia asked in unison.

“And I have to go, the feline competition is about to start but I’ll see you there; I noted Willow is competing too.”

He’d said it all with an affable smile then walked away.

“If his cat is named Max; then we have a new suspect,” Martha whispered.

“Jon a suspect? No, it isn’t possible. Why would he? What purpose would he have?”

Martha glanced at her, noting her bewilderment, but she had a good idea why that man might want to interfere in Perfidia’s life; she just didn’t see why he’d interfere in hers, but she had to admit, the suspect pool had increased by one.

 

 

 

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