The Grim Steeper: A Teapot Collector Mystery by Amanda Cooper Page B

from the front of the tearoom. It had not gone as her granddaughter had hoped and worked toward, which was unfortunate, since it was one more “failure”—not really, but that was how she would see it—that she had caused. Rose wished she could impart the wisdom of over eighty years, that few things were as important as they seemed at the time, that failure was never final, that success in life was often not felt until the twilight years. Sophie was young but, burdened with a mother who seemed to deliberately misunderstand the stellar value of her daughter’s work ethic and talent, she mistrusted herself, underestimating her own value.
    Sophie toted in another box and set it down on the kitchen counter, unloading the empty treat plates and trays to wash by hand in the deep stainless steel sink.
    “Honey, sit for a moment,” Rose said, patting the table opposite her. The kitchen blinds were drawn and just the light over the sink was on; the kitchen felt cozy and intimate.
    “I have some stuff to do, Nana,” Sophie replied, taking off her stained chef’s coat and draping it over the back of a chair. “I want to get it all done and go to bed.”
    “Sit! I need to talk to you.”
    Sophie obeyed, sitting down in the chair opposite her grandmother and slipping her phone out of her jeans pocket, glancing down at it. She was likely waiting for a text from Jason. She was worried, Rose knew, that the events of the evening had damaged whatever little reliance remained between the dean and Jason Murphy. She was blaming herself for not noticing Thelma’s creative interference, which Rose would deal with on the morrow, and for speaking up in her friend’s defense, ill timed as it was. “Honey, listen to me,” Rose said.
    Sophie looked up from her phone, then laid it screen down on the table, folding her hands and paying attention.
    “You did everything you could to make it all work out. Jason’s career does not hang by the slim strand of a tainted cup of tea. Jason is a good man; even if things go badly, he’d never blame you for something so silly. I know Thelma did this somehow, but in the end it won’t be what hurts Jason’s career, nor will it be your harangue at the chairwoman. It will be someone who sabotaged him at the college, or the dean, too lazy to find the real culprit behind the changed grade.”
    “That’s what Jason said. He’s not going down without a fight.”
    “He’s a winner, honey, and he’s like you; never count him out.”
    Sophie sighed. “I guess you’re right. I feel like I let him down.”
    “You didn’t. Put that thought right out of your head. I’ve learned the hard way that you can’t single-handedly make or break someone’s life. If I could, I’d have changed myrelationship with your mother long ago, but it has to be a two-way street.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I handled Rosalind all wrong when she was a teenager, minimized her feelings. Didn’t take her worries about her weight seriously. I feel like I created, in a way, her obsession with her looks, her aversion to fat. If I could go back, I’d change things. I have tried to talk to her in the years since, but I believe now that it has to come from her. She has to be prepared to talk and to listen. I’ll keep telling her how much I love her. Someday I hope she’ll come around.”
    “I don’t understand what that has to do with this.”
    Rose thought for a second. She was tired, and had to take her time to sort her thoughts out. “I guess I’ve been thinking about your mother a lot lately. You’re right; it doesn’t have much to do with this. What I’m trying to say, honey, is that we’re all doing the best we can in a difficult world.
You
did the best you could, and Jason knows that. If the dean is going after Jason, it won’t be because of salt in his tea or a miffed board member.”
    “Okay, message received,” Sophie said, springing up and kissing her grandmother’s cheek.
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    L averne