Coffrett said, swinging his spectacles by one earpiece in his hand. He looked different in the shadows of the oaks. How old was he, anyway? She didn't even know what he did for a living. Maybe, since he lived in that enormous house, he had money hidden away and didn't need to work. "Hi, Mr. Coffrett." She stopped at the bottom of the porch stairs. It was much cooler in the shade of the giant trees. "Sorry to bother you." "I was just having tea." He nodded to where a ceramic tea service sat on a wrought-iron table a little ways down the porch. "You can join me if you like." There were already two thin china cups beside the teapot, and a little sugar bowl and pitcher. Simon Coffrett walked over, lifted the pot, and poured one cup, then the other. "I don't get many visitors. It helps to be optimistic." She climbed the steps and crossed hesitantly to the table. "I don't know if I should. Have tea." Natalie sat and looked at the teacup. "You're sort of strange." The second it was out of her mouth she felt her face go red.
