Chapter 17
Visitors and Coffee
The Samuels family arrived home from the Morgan’s place to find lights on in their kitchen. People in Syracuse did not lock their doors. There was little to steal, but Mo went on ahead to scope out the situation. He retrieved a hunting rifle from the greenhouse. Seated at the kitchen table were Lily Yang and John Oxford. “Don’t shoot,” John said.
Mo lost his manners for a minute. “How’d you get here,” he blurted. Then he said, “sorry and welcome you two. I’m just so surprised to see you here in the East. Let me get my parents. I hope this is good news. You must have been traveling so long.” Mo went back out the door and signaled to Henry and Bea to come on in.
“Bea,” Henry said pretty calmly considering, “this is Lily Yang from California and John Oxford from Oregon.”
Bea took a hand of each visitor and offered her greetings. “What can I get you,” she asked?
“Tea would be perfect. We brought you some coffee but it’s probably a bit late for coffee, especially since you’re not used to it right now.”
Just the thought of waking up to a cup of brewed coffee had everyone wishing it was already morning.
“Thank you so much, Bea said, “What a lovely surprise, you two here in our kitchen and coffee. I don’t even know where the percolator is but I’ll find it before morning. I will obviously be in big trouble if I don’t,” Bea laughed. All the while she was putting on the kettle, setting out cups, getting the teapot ready, putting loose tea in the strainer.
“Tell us all about your travels,” Henry said.
“Traveling with Lily is an experience, John said. We were treated like rock stars. Tickets on trains appear like magic, luxurious hotel rooms await, always with fresh flowers. There are long black cars with drivers. It’s like traveling with 007 if James Bond was a woman.”
“You’re exaggerating John,” Lily said.
“Not by much,” John said, “All I can say is that must be some pretty great wine. I have yet to taste any, but then I am no oenophile.”
“When we had such an easy time crossing Canada we decided to keep going. We stopped at Minnesota, Michigan, Wisconsin, and got positive responses from every governor. I didn’t even have to ply them with wine, which was lucky because I wasn’t traveling with wine, only business cards and order books. I would hand out my business card at the border and we were allowed to hopscotch back and forth from the CSA to Canada and back. Canadians still call America the USA.”
“We thought it might be good to talk in person,” John said.
“And we have been invited to Las Vegas; we leave tomorrow from Newark. And then we get to take the Hyperloop home from Las Vega,” Lily said as if these were not at all gifts she was used to receiving.
Mo said, “About the only food I know how to make is BLT’s. Mom made fresh bread. Does anyone want a BLT?” Everyone wanted a BLT.
“You have all those things,” John asked, amazed. “You have the B, the L, and the T?”
“This is a farm community,” Mo said, “and those greenhouses are not empty even in winter. We have all the fixin’s except for mayo and my mom can whip that up in no time. Dad will show you to your rooms and you can settle your bags and then come back down and we’ll eat. Sorry there isn’t time to cook up anything more nourishing.”
Lily was a very entertaining guest. While they ate their sandwiches, she told them about a hotel in Canada where every room had a working fireplace and the dining room had a cathedral ceiling made of pine and exposed rafters with giant windows looking out at winter wonderland. Of course, winter wonderland was not unfamiliar to the Samuels family but on the West Coast it was a rare sight. The maid showed up after you checked in with your own down blanket. There was a frozen river nearby. All that beauty and comfort, she said, is a memory that she has tucked away forever.
John told a story about a restaurant owner they visited who treated John like a king and Lily like his queen. Since they were introducing themselves as a couple this proud restauranteur kept telling them risqué jokes, meanwhile putting himself between the two of them, arms around their shoulders as if he was planning a threesome. He even made Lily blush. But it turned out that Lily could drink anyone under the table without so much as a wisp of hair escaping from her chignon. After aperitifs and cordials and cocktails and champagne, not necessarily in that order, John would never have made it home if he wasn’t cheating by sipping so slowly that no one brought him another drink. Mr. Rudolf was so attentive to Lily that he never noticed that John wasn’t imbibing. Rudy ended up being hauled away by several servers who perhaps had done this duty before. Everyone gave Lily props for her hollow leg, a metaphor she had never heard before and which they had to explain.
“We’re going to go upstairs now,” Lily said, speaking for John also. He offered no protest. “It’s so nice to be here because we already think of you as family and now you are three-dimensional.”
Henry and Bea wished them a good night’s sleep and said that they would all go to the Morgan’s house tomorrow and have a chance to share news. Mo was clearing the table as he also said good night.
“Well that was exciting,” Bea whispered making sure their guests were upstairs, “and somehow exotic. Do you think they are becoming a couple? Is there still a Mr. Yang?
Henry and Mo knew nothing about whether or not there was a Mr. Yang and they hadn’t even wondered. Now they wondered why they never thought about that.
Perhaps a guy thing.
There was coffee for breakfast, real brewed coffee with fresh Amish cream. For just a moment there was no “prison” state. They were back in 2010, before things went so badly awry when there was Starbucks and Tim Hortons, and Dunkin’ and McDonald’s and lazy Sunday mornings with newspapers, and homemade breakfasts with home-brewed coffee. It got so quiet as everyone played his/her personal movie of “before.” Of course, Mo’s before didn’t include coffee, but it had pastries and hot chocolate.
“Those BLT’s were great,” John Oxford said, breaking up the memory trance moment. “They were,” everyone agreed.
After meeting Drew Morgan’s parents and going Underground to hear all the only half-believable good news it was time to take Lily and John to the train station, a place people in Syracuse rarely went these days. It was right next to a Farmer’s Market though where they had been many times. There were hugs and handshakes and promises to offer the Samuel’s family updates from the West Coast soon.
Las Vegas was like a fantasy location to people in the NYS prison. It had no place in their lives right now and was tucked away in the recesses where useless memories go until they are useful once more. Mo had no memories of Las Vegas tucked away except for the name and the words gambling and slot machines.
“Say hello to Theo and Nathan,” he called after Lily and John, but it was unclear if they heard him.