Free The Diva Serves High Tea by Krista Davis

door open. “Good morning.”
    â€œI would like to see my mother, please.” Natasha brushed by me.
    She was already on the staircase when I said, “Wanda’s not here.”
    Natasha’s eyes reduced to mere slits. “I’m not that stupid. Where else would she go? Of course she’s here.”
    I didn’t bother to argue. I could hear Natasha’s heels clacking on the hardwood floors upstairs as she searched the bedrooms. I poured myself a bracing mug of Newman’s Ownorganic black tea and stirred in sugar and milk. Daisy reached a paw in my direction, not touching my leg, but letting me know she wanted a treat.
    â€œOkay, but only one. And then we’re going for a walk. As soon as Natasha leaves.” I fed Daisy a cookie in the shape of a bunny.
    I could hear Natasha coming down the stairs. The sounds of her heels on the floor had slowed considerably. She dragged into the kitchen and burst into tears.
    â€œWhat’s wrong with me, Sophie? Mars left me and now even my own mother has abandoned me.”
    Tempting as it was to mention that she had claimed she left Mars, not the other way around, I resisted going in that direction. There was no need to depress her even more. She was going through a rough time. I poured her a mug of tea and ushered her into the living room, away from the den where Mars slept. “You’re too hard on yourself, Natasha. And you hold everyone else to the same high standard. People are flawed. We’re not perfect.”
    She sipped the tea. “I can see why you would think that. I mean, look at you. That bathrobe is just sad.” She frowned at me. “Your living room is dated, and you refuse to hear me when I tell you the portrait over the fireplace in your kitchen is tasteless. I keep offering to help you redecorate but you always turn me down.”
    I smiled at her mention of the painting of Mars’s Aunt Faye. She had left the house to Mars and me, and I had bought him out in our divorce. Faye had loved her home, and I liked her portrait in my kitchen, even if it did slide to an awkward angle once in a while—mostly when Natasha was in the house. Mars’s mother thought she could talk to her deceased sister in my kitchen and a psychic had confirmed Faye’s presence, but then the psychic also got some major things wrong. Maybe it
was
just a draft that shifted the portrait.
    I was a little bit insulted by what Natasha had said. Who wouldn’t be? I rubbed my hand across my forehead. “Think about what you just said, Natasha. Isn’t the world a betterand more interesting place because we all like different things?”
    â€œOh, Sophie! It’s just pathetic that people have no taste. I have no idea why anyone takes decorating tips from you.”
    I was about to spew a retort when it occurred to me that I could say the same about her. “We like different things, Natasha. There’s no right or wrong.”
    She tilted her head and patted my arm. “You keep telling yourself that, Sophie.”
    I clearly hadn’t convinced her.
    â€œHave you seen Mars?” she asked. “How’s he taking our breakup? He won’t know how to tie his shoes without me.”
    I couldn’t tell her he seemed to be pretty happy. Thankfully, she didn’t wait for an answer.
    â€œHe never loved me, Sophie. I should have realized that much sooner. I had a long talk with Robert about him. For the first time, I’m seeing everything so clearly. Robert is quite brilliant, and he’s deeply intellectual in a way that Mars will never be.”
    At her mention of Robert, I feared I might know where her mother had spent the night. I wasn’t about to tell her and give her the opportunity to make a scene, though. “Does Robert
know
Mars?”
    â€œI don’t think so. But he pointed out to me that when someone loves you, he supports you in the things you want to do. The things that