Aromatic Memories

The kettle whistled its familiar tune, shooting out piping-hot steam as the boil switch automatically clacked down. Elsa poured the boiling water into two mugs and placed paper bags filled with green tea leaves into them. As she inhaled the herbaceous aroma wafting up from the mugs, Elsa recalled the time she discovered she liked green tea.

The sun's early morning light was peeking into the kitchen when Elsa and her husband John left their room to go about their usual routine of having coffee and reading a book before breakfast. However, the coffee jar was empty when John found it in the spot where it had been every day since they moved into their first home three years earlier.

"Honey, we're out of coffee," John sleepily said to his wife. "I'm just going to make some tea."

"Ew!" said Elsa.

"What's the matter?" John asked while mechanically grabbing the green tea leaves and paper tea bags he kept near the coffee jar. "You don't like tea?"

Elsa looked at her husband with a look of offended astonishment.

"You really don't like tea?" John asked again, looking at his wife with genuine curiosity.

"We have been married for five years, been dating for seven, known each other for ten, and after all this time, you never noticed that I don't like tea?"

John weighed how much his response might incite his wife's fury, but not knowing what else to say, he replied with the truth.

"No. Never."

Elsa looked at the man she loved most in the world as if he were the dumbest man on it. John, knowing his wife, knew he should proceed to grab the kettle to boil water while she gathered her thoughts.

"How is it even possible that after all this time, you have no idea that I hate tea?" Elsa asked.

"I am kind of surprised myself," John replied. "I guess we never stop learning about each other, right?"

"Well, yeah, but," Elsa stuttered. "This is a really basic preference. Have we really never encountered a situation where you learned about my dislike of tea? You never noticed that you are the only one who uses those tea leaves?"

John set the kettle on its base while he tried to remember a scenario where he possibly could have learned about her aversion to tea, but could recollect nothing of the sort.

"No, I suppose we have never run into that kind of situation. I also never noticed that I was the only one who used the tea leaves."

They both looked at each other, stupefied. A few seconds passed in confused silence before a thought occurred to John.

"Do you really not like tea?" John asked. "As in, are you saying you don't like it because you have never tried it, or have you tried it a few times and just didn't like it?"

"I tried it once when I was six," Elsa said. "I hated it. I told my mom it tasted like dirt."

John laughed, saying, "Firstly, how do you even know what dirt tastes like? Second, you can't judge something based on the one time you tried it at six years old."

"I will have you know that I was a curious child, and one time, I tasted the dirt in our family garden because it looked like chocolate," Elsa said, blushing with embarrassment.

At this, John broke down laughing at his wife. He was leaning on the kitchen counter as if it would save him from the fit of laughter he was stuck in.

"It's not that funny!" Elsa said, beginning to giggle. "And it doesn't change the fact that I don't like tea."

"Let me make you a cup, and perhaps I can change your mind," John said, finally collecting himself. "I don't think your mom made you a good batch. After all, these tea leaves are really high quality. Also, there are ways to make it taste better."

Seeing his wife was still not wholly convinced, John added, "If you don't like it, I will take you to that café you like."

"Deal," said Elsa with a rapidity that suggested she was going to want to go to the café regardless of the outcome of John's experiment.

John shook his head with a smile as he took the kettle of boiling water and poured it into the two mugs he had set down next to the stove. He put the tea leaves into the small paper bags and put one in each mug, clipping them to the sides. After 2 minutes, he took the bags out of the tea, and after throwing them out, he grabbed the bottle of honey from the top shelf. He then squeezed out a bit of honey into each mug and mixed it in with a spoon.

John grabbed the mugs and placed one in front of Elsa. She eyed the tea with the look of suspicion so frequently seen in picky eaters upon encountering an unfamiliar plate of food.

John rolled his eyes, saying, "It doesn't bite, I promise. Give it a little time to cool and then try it."

Elsa did as she was told and waited until John started drinking from his tea to drink from hers. When she sipped the tea, she was surprised to find that it was actually decent. The flavor was sweetened when mixed with the honey, but the earthy taste that had solicited her disgust all those years ago was shockingly palatable. In fact, Elsa enjoyed noticing that the grassy flavor had a subtle sweetness in and of itself, which was complemented nicely with the honey.

"I admit, this isn't bad," Elsa said begrudgingly.

"See?" John said with a smug smile.

"Yeah, yeah," said Elsa, waving her hand at him. "I still want to go to the café, though."

"I figured," John said, giving a kiss on the forehead to his wife. "I will go get dressed."

Elsa pumped two squeezes of honey into the mugs and carried them out to where her husband was seated on the front porch watching the grandkids play.

"Thank you, my love," said John, looking at his mug. "Ah, no coffee?"

"Nope," replied Elsa with a smile as she joined John in the seat next to him.

"Good thing we had some tea then," John said with a playful smile, grabbing his wife's hand.