The Great Gatsby | A Winrina Story

Tea

[A/N. Reference to self-harm.]

After doing the dishes, after dinner I decided to take a walk as it was a gorgeous summer evening. As I turned to lock the door, I was startled by Gatsby, who apparently had been waiting outside my cottage to speak to me.

"Hello old sport," she said absentmindedly. "I thought I'd come by and make sure you have everything you'll need for tea tomorrow."

"It isn't glamorous, but I have enough for the three of us. I picked up some cookies as well."

Gatsby frowned. "That's great, old sport, but I'd like to have my man come by tomorrow to make sure everything is as nice as possible. I want you to make a good impression on Karina, too."

"Jaye, what is the story between the two of you?"

"It was during the war. Her parents threw parties for servicemen at their plantation. I was broke and back home on leave, and didn't know anyone, so I tagged along with a friend and when we walked in, Karina was standing at the top of the stairs."

"What was your first impression?" I asked.

Gatsby smiled very slightly and looked in the direction of Karina's dock, even though it wasn't visible from my home. For a moment she was at a loss for words. She smiled broadly. "She... she was just hope, old sport. Just hope. I was a broken toy after four years in the trenches, and Karina just... just saved me. At first we were merely friends, but after countless walks and hundreds of hours of talking, we fell in love. We had agreed we would marry, at least symbolically, but then everything changed."

"What happened?"

"I proposed to her. She took my hands and said 'Rich girls don't marry poor boys.' The next thing I knew I was in the park staring at my service revolver. I didn't want to live without her. But then I realized that if I became rich and powerful, I could talk to Karina once more and we could pick up where we left off."

"Jaye, forgive me, but you can't recreate the past."

Gatsby was dumbfounded. "No, no, no, old sport. You're completely wrong. Of course you can recreate the past. That's what the past is for. It belongs to us."

I smiled. "Well, point taken, and if anyone can do it, it's Jaye Gatsby."

"My men will be here at 7am, if that's ok."

"Of course. I look forward to it."

They shook hands and parted ways, Gatsby toward his mansion, and Ryujin toward the street to take a walk.

"You're wrong about the past," Gatsby yelled.

"I hope you will prove me wrong!"

"Goodnight, RJ."

"Sleep well, Gatsby."

. . . . .

I was finishing my morning coffee when there was a knock on the door. In the yard were at least 25 groundskeepers, including a man on a riding mower, already working on my lawn. The first of a seemingly endless train of men bearing giant white flower arrangements paraded into my living room as if I wasn't there and placed the bouquet over the fireplace. I quickly realized that I was powerless to direct any of this -- Gatsby's fingerprints were all over. She was paying them, after all, not me.

I sat in the kitchen reading the paper and trying to ignore the commotion. Behind me, a man cleared his throat. He was carrying a massive silver tea set that had been polished so brightly it almost hurt to look at it. With that, any sense that I was a participant in this tea dissolved. I was going to be a spectator of the love drama between Jaye Gatsby and Karina Buchanan. At the same time, I didn't want to be studying them at the most important point in their lives. If it came to it, I'd just go for a walk.

Tea was at 11am. At 10:45am, Gatsby arrived, trembling with nerves and sweating profusely, but in an expensive and stylish suit -- with a faded herringbone tie.

"Would you like another tie, Jaye?" I asked.

"No. No. Karina gave me this. I want her to see that I've never given up."

I smiled. "Relax, Jaye. It's just tea. This could be a really good chance to catch up."

He exhaled and looked at his pocketwatch and stood up. "I don't know. This is a mistake. She's not coming --"

Outside we heard the putter of a car. Gatsby tilted his head as if to say "You go welcome her." So I did.

"Ryujin, are we meeting because deep down you are sweet on me?" Karina asked in her usual sing-song voice.

I laughed. "You've solved the riddle. But only this morning I realized that I am not good enough for you, and neither are the crowned heads of Europe!"

Karina also laughed. "Of course you're not, but let's pretend we had a seedy little affair that's just our secret. I love it! Now I've got to see this little hobbit-hole you call home." Karina ran into the house, as I followed slowly behind.

She was standing in the center of my living room, which had been stuffed with flowers. I panicked -- Gatsby was nowhere to be found. Had she left?

"These flowers are simply delicious, RJ. Where did you--"

She suddenly stopped talking and stared past me. I turned slowly, and there was Gatsby, a terrified look on her face. Tears welled in Karina's eyes but the two just stared at each other in silence.

"I think I'll go for a walk," I announced, but neither of them paid any attention. I hiked around Gatsby's estate for an hour before returning to the cottage. I tiptoed to the living room and they were still staring at each other in silence.

"I think I'll go for another walk," I announced louder.

Within 15 minutes it was pouring. Nonetheless I walked another hour in the rain, growing a bit irritated at being so taken for granted.

"I'm back," I said loudly but politely.

"RJ!" Karina yelled.

"Where have you been, old sport?" Gatsby asked. "The tea got cold."

"Jaye, we didn't have any tea."

"I guess I just assumed it was cold," Jaye replied. "Say! Let's go to my house. I can show you around and Marcel in the kitchen can cook something hot for us."

"That sounds like a dream, Jaye," Karina said.

For two hours we toured Gatsby's mansion. I asked her if she wanted me to stay home so she could have some privacy, but she said "If it wasn't for you, the nerves would have gotten me a long time ago. Please, always feel like this is your home, too."

I'm embarrassed to say that had I lived with Gatsby, my reputation at Gatsby's parties would go to the moon. She lives with him. No one knows him better. "That's very generous, Ms Gatsby. I'll keep it in mind if I get tired of my cottage."

The night ended in the grand ballroom of the mansion. The room was the size of a basketball court and the walls and trim were century-old mahogany. A massive gold chandelier hung over everything, and the floor was walnut panels that bore the gold initials "JG."

Gatsby put a 78 on the victrola, and Debussy's "Claire de Lune" played. She took Karina's hand tenderly and the two of them began to turn slowly to the music as they looked in each other's eyes.

I pretended to yawn. "Well, I'm going to head home. Thank you for a beautiful day."

Silence.