One Cuppa Brew: Book 1 in The Thyme for Tea Series by J. Louise Powell

CHAPTER ONE
    Iris Potts glanced up as she heard “Have a Cuppa Tea,” the jaunty jingle signaling the door opening. Most of her customers didn’t recognize the chorus of the Kinks song, but the few that did were sure to stay and chat, others just thought the “Hallelujahs” were a nod to her former career. Have a Cuppa Brew and Books was her dream retirement business, well earned after a long career in the ministry. She had hoped to become a church elder here, in Florida or Alabama when she retired, but religious politics in the Southern states weren’t at the same level as the ones in the North, and she didn’t have the time or energy to focus there anymore. She found that by serving tea or suggesting books to customers she could lend an ear and offer a good bit of wisdom. Being a widow meant she didn’t have to be managing a home for anyone other than herself, so she enjoyed her unconventional ministry.
    The bell probably meant her usual first customer, Mr. Winthrop, who came to the shop each day after his morning walk and before playing tennis. He generally arrived during the first morning break, so they had a chance to catch up. Due to his exercise schedule, he rarely ate anything at this time of day. But he was always sure to catch up on the newest titles and place his order for his post-tennis treat, which he would come back for in about an hour.
    “William, how was the beach this morning?” she asked as he crossed the small space to the food and beverage area.
    “Simply delightful, Pastor, I wish I could get you out there with me more often.” He blushed as he said the last part. “I mean, my words don’t do it justice, and you are simply steps away from the beauty.”
    Pastor was as much a part of her as her given name of Iris. Born Iris Marsha Thompson, she was sure anyone who did official documents would laugh when they saw her married name of I.M. Potts. Becoming a minister had aided that, when people began addressing her as Reverend Potts. But Pastor Potts had come off the tongue more easily, and rather than argue with it, she just stuck to it. In fact, she had former parishioners who probably believed it was her name. Since her father-in-law had been one of the first big developers in Perdido Key, and she had begun vacationing here years before retirement and the bookstore, she was known to locals as Pastor. That was enough for her to keep it. Names carried weight. Luckily she didn’t think William wanted her to call him “Spy,” as she was pretty sure that was what he had been. “I take my moment every morning and evening, but someone has to be here, right?” she replied, neatly sidestepping his words.
    “I know, Pastor, you like to be there to make sure the sun comes up and goes down, don’t you? How will you handle the beginning of daylight savings time?”
    “I’m sure God will get the sun up without me for a few days, William, so I can be on time to open the shop,,” she said with a smile. “Is today doubles or singles?” She knew that he might barely break a sweat in doubles play, but on the days he played singles he always drank an extra glass of water as soon as he stopped by for his brunch.
    “I’m not sure yet. Joe was talking about playing mixed doubles today, just for something different. But those women can be poor sports, always blaming us if they lose, even if we make every hit. It gets old, but I think he likes one of the new girls.”
    “Well, maybe it will be good for him. I assume she’s unmarried and new to Oyster Creek?” Pastor replied.
    “She’s newly widowed. I knew her husband years ago, and it’s hard to imagine him gone. His first wife died just a year after childbirth and she raised the twins, never had any kids of her own. They’re old enough to be on their own now. It was just a surprise to see her here, I guess.”
    Pastor could hear the hesitation in his voice, “Was there something else, William? I assume your friend died of natural causes? We