I was making myself a cup of coffee when I noticed Pandora’s favorite mug sitting on the drying rack beside the sink. That wasn’t unusual by itself. She’d probably washed it before leaving for work. What caught my attention was the little stainless-steel tea infuser sitting next to the kettle. Pandora always put everything away the moment she finished making tea. If there was one thing you could count on in our kitchen, it was that Pandora’s tea station looked exactly the same every single day. Seeing the infuser sitting out was a little like finding one shoe in the refrigerator. It wasn’t alarming exactly, but it certainly encouraged questions.
My first thought was that she’d simply forgotten it, but that explanation lasted all of three seconds before my imagination wandered off in another direction. John Mercer had been experimenting with herbal tea lately after declaring coffee was making him “too energetic,” which remains one of the stranger things I’ve ever heard someone say while voluntarily living with me. Maybe he’d borrowed Pandora’s infuser. It would explain why it was sitting there instead of tucked neatly into the drawer. Of course, if he had borrowed it, he probably would’ve asked first. John isn’t the kind of person who quietly helps himself to other people’s things. Then again, maybe he’d asked while I wasn’t home. Or maybe Pandora had offered it. Suddenly I realized I was constructing three different explanations for a tea infuser before I’d even finished pouring my coffee.
Mr. Whiskers wandered into the kitchen just then, jumped onto one of the chairs and looked from me to the counter with obvious interest. “You know anything about this?” I asked him. He blinked once, yawned dramatically and began washing a paw. Cats have a remarkable talent for making you feel ridiculous without saying a single word. I looked back at the infuser and noticed there were still a couple of dried mint leaves caught inside the mesh. Pandora hadn’t been drinking mint tea lately. John had. That seemed significant for almost five seconds before I remembered that the last time Pandora made mint tea, she’d joked there were enough leaves in the container to last until retirement.
The front door opened, and John stepped inside carrying a grocery bag. “Morning,” he said. “Morning,” I replied, trying to sound casual. “Random question. Have you been borrowing Pandora’s tea infuser?” He looked at me for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah. She told me I could use it whenever I wanted. Mine fell apart last week.” Well, that was disappointingly straightforward. “Oh.” He reached into the grocery bag, pulled out a brand-new tea infuser still in the packaging and held it up. “Actually, this one’s for Pandora. I figured I’d replace the old one since I’ve been using it.” That was unexpectedly thoughtful.
Just then Pandora walked in from work, spotted the box in John’s hand and smiled. “You didn’t have to do that.” John shrugged. “I appreciated borrowing yours.” She laughed, took the box and set it on the counter before giving me a curious look. “Why are you staring at the tea kettle?” I took a sip of my coffee and decided honesty was the safest policy. “I spent the last ten minutes convincing myself there was a mystery involving your tea infuser.” Pandora laughed so hard she had to steady herself against the counter. John shook his head with the familiar expression of someone who’d watched this happen before. Mr. Whiskers chose that exact moment to bat Pandora’s old tea infuser off the counter onto the floor with one perfectly timed swipe of his paw. All three of us looked at him. He looked back as if to say, Now there’s your mystery.