I had a routine. I did the same thing almost every day. I packed my backpack for class. Then I walked to my favorite teashop at noon. The teashop was called Drop of Honey. Then I would walk to my class after tea. Christopher Summers was the owner of the teashop. He sold the best tea in Clearwater, Wisconsin. He was also the nicest man I knew. 

It was a sunny day. I wore my favorite black dress. I carried my backpack. My phone rang when I walked outside. It was Mom. 

I did not answer my phone. Mom had been calling more often. She wanted to talk about Michael. Michael was the son of Mom's best friend. I had met Michael twice. I thought he was arrogant. A snob. He bragged about his grades. Mom thought he was smart. He was going to medical school. He was going to become a doctor. Mom wanted me to marry him. 

Mom called again. I did not answer. I walked to Drop of Honey instead and arrived at noon. The same time, every day. 

My favorite tea was chamomile with honey and lemon. I drank it when I came here. It smelled sweet. It smelled like a field of flowers. It tasted a little sweet, too. I would drink two pots of chamomile tea when I was sad. Chamomile tea made me happy again. 

Christopher was there when I walked inside. He was tall and thin and balding at the top of his head. He smiled when he saw me. 

“Why, hello there!” Christopher said. “Miss Eva, you look beautiful!” 

I blushed. I could feel my cheeks turning red. I was relieved that other customers were busy. No one was watching us. 

“Thank you, Christopher,” I said. “How are you doing today?” 

“I am great! I cannot complain. Life is always good. Now, what will it be? The usual?” 

"Yes, please." 

Christopher had a wall of jars. The wall had many shelves of tea. He grabbed a jar that said “chamomile.” Then he scooped the tea leaves into a tea strainer. He put the tea strainer inside the teapot and poured hot water over it. 

“Why don’t you sit down?” he asked. “I can bring the tea over when it is ready. I will put honey and lemon in it too.” 

I thanked Christopher for my tea. Then I left $3 on the counter to pay. I sat in a quiet corner. The corner was in the back of the teashop. Sometimes Christopher sat with me. We would talk about our hopes and dreams. 

Once, Christopher asked me why I always sat there. I told him that I liked quiet places. The truth was that I liked to look at this painting. It hung across from my small table. It had a sunflower in a cup of water. The background was dark. It was blue and green. It made me feel sad when I looked at it. The sunflower was bright yellow, though. This made me happy. I loved that the painting could make me feel two things at once. 

“Here you go, Miss Eva,” said Christopher. He set the teapot down. “Can I get you anything else?” 

“No, thank you,” I replied. 

“You enjoy your tea now. Maybe I will join you before you leave,” he said. 

“Oh, Christopher?” I asked. “Wait. I was wondering. Where did you get this painting?” 

Christopher looked at where my finger was pointing. He stared at the painting for a while. “Do you like this painting, Miss Eva?” 

“Oh, yes! It looks sad, but beautiful.” 

Christopher laughed. “Well, Miss Eva, I will let the painter know.”  

"Who is the painter?" I asked. 

Christopher smiled. “Miss Eva, why do you think the painting is sad?” 

I was quiet. Then I said, "The colors are very dark. People are afraid of the dark. Maybe the painter wanted people to be afraid of him.” 

"Why do you say that?" Christopher asked. 

“Maybe the painter is scared," I replied. "I am not sure. I guess sometimes it is easier to be someone you are not.” 

Christopher looked like he was thinking. His smile disappeared. He looked sad. 

“I am sorry,” I said quickly. I did not want to make him sad. “The painter did a beautiful job.” 

“Thank you, Miss Eva. Again, you look beautiful.” Christopher smiled before walking away. 

I looked at the painting. Then I poured a cup of tea. I raised my cup to toast the painting. It was to honor its beauty and sadness. 

"To you,” I said to the painting. I took a sip from my cup. 

Professor Thompson taught my Positive Psychology class. I went to this class after I had tea. We learned about happiness. Professor Thompson could connect happiness to anything, including chocolate. I wanted to be happier so I took the class. 

Honestly? I wanted Mom to stop calling me. That would make me happy for now. Mom wanted to talk about the wedding. 

 I had no plans after I graduated from school. I had no dreams, really. My life felt boring. Mom said marrying Michael would be exciting. She called again while I was in class. I did not answer. 

Mom wanted the best for me. I listened to her a lot. Sometimes she did not listen to me, though. This made me sad. 

Mom had a plan. I would graduate from college. Then I would marry Michael. Michael was going to be a doctor. Michael would buy me anything I wanted. My life would not be boring. 

I hated Mom's plan. I told Christopher about it once. Christopher asked about my dreams. What did I want to do with my life? I did not know. This frustrated me very much. 

Christopher said he was living his dream. His dream was running the teashop. He hoped I could live my dream too. 

I called Mom after my classes. It was 4:00 p.m. "Mai?" Mom answered. That was her name for me. "What are you doing?" 

"What is it, Mom?" I asked. I was walking home. 

"Michael wants to see you. The wedding--" 

"No, Mom," I interrupted. "I do not want to talk about the wedding." 

"Oh, you are just nervous," Mom said. "Do not be scared. Michael is a very nice young man." 

"Mom," I said. "I cannot-" 

"Sue said it takes a long time to plan weddings. Michael has some great ideas. I will-" 

"Mom, no!" I yelled. "I am sorry. I cannot do this right now. I love you. Goodbye." 

Mom was not listening. I did what I often did. I hung up the phone. Then I walked past Drop of Honey. I looked through the window. Christopher was talking with a customer. He waved. I waved back. Then I continued walking home. 

I prayed before I went to bed. I asked God to help Mom listen to me. I prayed that Mom would stop talking about the wedding. Then I prayed that I could find my dream. 

That night, I dreamed about traveling the world. I sailed across the ocean. I touched the ocean for the first time. I ate delicious meals from other countries. I made new friends. I tried new things. I was not following my old routine. 

 I was happy in my dream. Mom was happy too. 

I woke up the next day. It was Tuesday. I had a good dream. I felt refreshed. I felt happy. 

I got ready for class. I packed my backpack. Then I walked to Drop of Honey. 

When I arrived at the teashop, it was closed. That was odd. Drop of Honey never closed. It was noon. My class did not start for another hour. Drop of Honey was a part of my routine. I always got chamomile tea before class. I did this every weekday. 

I peeked inside the window. No one was there. The teashop looked very dark. I hoped Christopher was okay. Maybe he went on vacation, I thought to myself. 

I continued walking to class. 

On Wednesday, Drop of Honey was still closed. I started to get worried. Where was Christopher? I peeked inside the teashop again. No one was there, again. I continued to walk to class. 

I wondered if I should go to Drop of Honey on Thursday. What if it was closed? Then I would be early to class. I packed my backpack on Thursday morning and headed to the teashop. It was about 12:00pm. And yes, the teashop was closed, again. There was no one inside. I continued walking to class. 

“Christopher,” I whispered as I walked away. “Come back. I think I found my dream.” 

I missed my chamomile tea with honey and lemon. I missed sitting in the quiet corner. I missed looking at the sunflower painting. I missed Christopher. I wanted to tell him my dream.

Drop of Honey had been closed for almost two weeks. I walked past it every day on my way to class. And every day I peeked inside. Christopher was never there. 

One day, I decided to wear my favorite black dress. Maybe it would bring good luck. I might see Christopher. 

I started my routine. I packed my backpack. Then I started walking to Drop of Honey. I arrived around noon. The teashop was still closed. But this time, there was a woman outside. She smiled at me. “Are you here for tea too?” she asked. “You look beautiful in that dress!” 

“Oh, thank you,” I replied. “I come here for tea a lot. It's been closed for almost two weeks though.” 

“Yes, it has,” the woman said sadly. “Christopher died last week. He had a heart attack.” 

"Wait, what did you say?" I was shocked. 

“Christopher had a heart attack," the woman said again. "He died before he got to the hospital.” 

I heard movement inside the teashop. Three men were cleaning, two of them much older than the first. They had gray hair. The third man was young. He looked a little older than me. Maybe 28. He was tall and thin, like Christopher. He did not seem happy. 

“What are they doing?” I asked. 

The woman thought for a bit. “I guess they have a new owner. Someone has to take care of the place. Christopher owned it for many years.” 

“Who will take care of it?” I asked. 

“I do not know. I hope the new owner is nice like Christopher. Christopher loved his teashop.” 

The woman told me to have a good day. Then she left. I looked at the teashop. I thought about Christopher. I thought about our dreams. I thought about my dream. I wanted to try new things. I did not want a routine anymore. And now Christopher was gone. I could not share my dream with him. 

I watched as the three men swept the floors. The two older men laughed. The younger man looked tired. He was very quiet. When he looked at me, I glanced away. I thought about walking to class. 

My feet, however, did not move. I looked back at the young man. He was no longer facing me. He was wiping the tables. 

One of the older men walked over to the front door. He smiled. Then he unlocked the door. “Can I help you, Miss?” he asked. 

I did not know what to say. No words came out of my mouth. I smiled. “Would you like to come inside?” he asked. 

“Oh, no thank you,” I answered. “I am sorry to hear about Christopher.” 

“Well, thank you, miss. Christopher lived a good life.” 

“What will happen to the teashop?” I asked. 

“It will open again soon. We are cleaning it. Maybe you can get your tea next week.” 

I told the man that I would come back. Then I walked to class. I thought about my life. I'd lived in Clearwater for all of it. With Mom. Dad died when I was little. Mom and I shared a tiny yellow house. 

Then I'd started college. I moved to an apartment. The apartment was closer to school. I did not have a car, so I walked everywhere. I passed Drop of Honey every day. 

I first met Christopher standing outside of the tea shop. He was enjoying the sunshine. He asked me to have tea. Just like that, Drop of Honey was added to my routine. I came almost every day after that. 

Christopher loved the teashop. He said it was his dream. He was living his dream. 

I prayed to God that night. I prayed that the new owner would love Christopher's dream too.