The tea room was bustling, between customers and the construction next door; but all of it gave Sandy and the staff an excited energy. Outside it may be a chilly, gray winter, but inside it was warm and bright with no shortage of food and Southern charm that made it feel like you were right down on the Carolina coast. 

Sandy was taking up dirty dishes from empty tables, greeting customers that entered and waving goodbye to those leaving when she saw the stunning brunette with piercing eyes come in and take a seat. Jane came and took her drink order, and Sandy approached just as the young waitress finished up.

"Why lord, yes, you sure can! They are so good, and we don't get a lot of folks trying them. I think it's because they don't know what it is- but it really ain't all that different from bacon. What makes it special here, though, is the house-made seasoning. Norris makes it himself, it's his own blend. Got a nice kick to it, but not so much that you need a fire hose to wash them down with. We'll get you set right up honey. Thank you for stopping in!"

Turning toward the kitchen, Sandy started back when another customer caught her attention with a terribly sweet compliment.

"You've done your Mama proud, I'll say that much."

Now, there are plenty of things you can say that will make a Southern girl blush, but you have to really know where to aim to hit her in the heart; and telling her that her Mama would be proud of her is the dead center of the target. Stopping dead in her tracks, Sandy's smile grew a little and her eyes rounded a bit as she looked at the well-dressed gentleman who gave it. She put down the tray of dishes and wiped her hands on the dish towel hanging from her apron strings.

"That is a very high compliment, sir. Thank you very much! I worked real hard to make this a place that felt like home- not just for me, but for anyone. It warms my heart to hear that it's doing that."

She offered her hand to shake his.

"I'm Sandy Sullivan."

The streets of Detroit had their fair share of bars, lounges, and smoke-filled backrooms, but a Southern-style tea room? That was something Tony Soprano hadn’t expected to see. Bright coral paint, dark blue shutters, a front porch with rocking chairs? It looked like someone had picked up a Charleston house and dropped it in the middle of the Motor City.

Tony stepped out of his black Packard, adjusting his coat as he took in the strange but inviting sight. He had to admit—it had character. Different, but in a way that stood out.

Pushing open the white-paneled door, a small bell chimed overhead. Inside, the air smelled of fresh coffee, lemon, and something sweet baking in the back. The walls were a soft yellow, the tables set with crisp white tablecloths and fine china. It was the kind of place that felt deliberate—every detail placed with care.

A young waitress—Jane, he figured—glanced up from setting a table. “Good afternoon, sir. Have a seat wherever you like.”

Tony gave her a nod, taking off his fedora and settling into a corner table near the window. He wasn’t the tea and pastries type, but sometimes you went places to be seen, not just to eat.

A few moments later, Sandy Sullivan herself came over, a warm but knowing look in her eyes.

"Well now, Mr. Soprano, what brings you to my little piece of the South in Detroit?"

Tony smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Figured I’d check out the place. Heard good things." He glanced around. "You got a nice setup here. Different from what I’m used to, but I respect a place that knows what it is."

Sandy chuckled, setting down a cup of coffee and a glass of sweet tea. “That’s the idea. Ain’t no point in tryin’ to be something you’re not.”

Tony took a sip of the coffee—strong, smooth, not bad at all.

“You do alright here? Business steady?”

Sandy gave a knowing smirk. “Steady enough. Different crowd than what you’re used to, I imagine.”

Tony chuckled, setting his cup down. "Yeah, I’d say that. But even in a place like this, people talk. They feel comfortable, they let their guard down.** And information? That’s just as valuable as a good meal.**"

Sandy didn’t flinch. “And are you here for information, or just a good meal?”

Tony smirked, reaching into his coat and pulling out a few crisp bills, setting them lightly on the table. "Right now? Just the meal. But next time? Maybe we talk business."

Sandy studied him for a moment before nodding. She understood the game.

"Well then, Mr. Soprano, let me get you something to go with that coffee. You ever had pecan tartlets?"

Tony grinned. "Can’t say I have. But I got time to try something new."

As Sandy walked back toward the kitchen, Tony leaned back, taking in the strange but welcoming little tea room. Different? Sure. But even in the quietest places, there was always room for business.

TheWeatherman Walks into Mrs. Ruthie's Palmetto Tea Room after a long days work on the streets of Detroit selling umbrellas to all which left the house unprepared. he takes off hit hat and puts it on the coat rack and hands up his jacket

A fine you lady comes over to take his order

I will take one coffee please black no sugar. Oh and while you're there i'll take an Egg Salad Sandwich please

Walter checked his calendar instinctively as he looked up from his desk for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. The bold three one stood out to him as he recalled the ad he saw in the paper just the other day.

"Jack!" He shouted as he stood to make for his bedroom. A slender man with slicked back jet black hair rushed up at his call, "Let the pilot know we are going on a trip." He said as he stepped into his closet.

"Where should I tell her we are headed?" asked Jack as he called over another man from the hallway.

"We're headed to Detroit."

Time passed quickly between Walter checking himself in the full length mirror found in his room, to boarding his plane and taking to the skies as he sipped on a glass of bourbon. His eyes shot across the cabin to the neatly wrapped box in the seat near the door as they descended into Bricktown.

Upon landing, Walter scooped up the box under one arm and shifted off the plane and into an awaiting car destined for the evening's event. Knowing he would be quite early, they took their time en route to the venue, taking in the sights of the motor city as Walter has not been around these parts in some time. It was quite refreshing to see all the changes and the every bustling streets as they leisurely made their way to the tea room.

The car came to a gentle stop in front of a coral pink building accented with dark blue shutters on the second floor.

"What an odd color pairing." Walter mumbled to himself as he reached into his coat to free a cigar from his slick black holding case. His passenger door opened for him as he struck a match, a flame dancing to life before being drawn into the end of the fresh cut cigar. The bitter tobacco caught flame, glowing a dull red and releasing a steady trail of thick gray smoke as Walter stepped free of the car and mad his way for the white plank deck. With each step he straightened his sage green blazer and the hunter green vest beneath it, ensuring he showed no sign of the trip it took to get here.

Walter quickly looked himself over one last time in the faint reflecting in the glass of a nearby window before the door opened for him granting clear passage into the tea room. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the change in light levels as he crossed the threshold. His deep blue eyes scanned the room, taking in the vibrant atmosphere as patrons  went about enjoying their orders as they were systematically brought to their table.

With a simple nod to Jack, Walter moved for a free table and took a seat, the box that had been under his arms now having been set on the table as he continued to take in the establishment.

It was the day of the big event, and Sandy had arrived early to the Tea Room to serve the usual morning crowd for coffee and light breakfast. She found a new face there among the crowd- a very well dressed gentleman in quite a fetching green ensemble. With a bright smile and a fresh pot of coffee, Sandy made her way over.

"Good morning, sir. I'm Sandy- welcome to the Palmetto Tea Room. Can I bring you anything specific? Coffee, tea this morning?"

Walter turned his attention to the beaming woman standing before him. His own face lit up as a he shifted in his chair to properly face her.

"A coffee would be divine right about now. Seems I am a tad too early for my business in this city." He chuckled as he extended a hand out to Sandy.

"The name's Walter, its a pleasure to make your acquaintance Sandy." He said, his eyes softening as they found hers. "I take it you are the Sandy hosting tonight's event?"

Sandy's eyes and ears tugged at her memory, making something like recognition wiggle itself out of her early morning mind. As she shook his hand with her free hand, it started to come together. He had the most unique, piercing eyes she'd ever seen, and nearly caught herself staring until he mentioned the event.

"You're here for the Mardi Gras ball! Now, would you happen to be here from Philadelphia? I do believe I've heard of you before, and it's a right pleasure to have you here, sir. I'm just pleased as punch!"

Reaching out, Sandy flipped the coffee cup on the table upright and poured fresh, hot coffee into it. 

"There's sugar in the table, and if you'll give me just a second, I'll come right back with creamer if you like. Do you prefer milk or half-and-half?

Dreams was hungry and he knew there was a place he could get tea and deviled eggs at in Detroit which was one of his favorite things to do. He took his car down to Mrs Ruthie's Palmetto Tea Room, as he parked and walked inside his stomach started growling. He walked up to the end of the line and waited patiently.

After a few minutes it was his turn where he asked for a sweetened ice team and an order of deviled eggs. He waited patiently as he was served and took a seat to enjoy them. It was always good and very consistent which is why he kept coming back here. Once he was done he got up and walked out to carry on with the rest of his day.

Walter smiled has he wrapped his hand around the quickly heating cup Sandy had just filled for him.

"Black is fine, like it nice a bitter most days." He said, the smile not fading in the slightest. "Thank you for this, it is much needed as you are quite correct." He started before lifting the cup from the table and brining it to his lips. He sipped at the dark brown liquid as the aroma filled his nostrils.

"Ahhh, intoxicating." He sighed as he set the cup back down and return his gaze to Sandy. "We did just complete a trip from Philly for the evening's event. I'm rather looking forward to seeing what you've pulled together. I'm sure you must have been quite busy putting this together for some time now, no?"

"I've been working with my two chefs to make it just perfect for a few weeks now. Remi and Norris are originally from Louisiana, but spent most of their lives in South Alabama before moving to Detroit to work in the Ford plant. Awful waste of their talent, though. I've been lucky to be able to hire them full time now, and this is their debut event as full-time executive chefs."

Sandy grinned proudly for the brothers in the back. They really were something else. Remi and Norris had a life that most people from their background wouldn't see, and they worked very hard to get where they were. Sandy knew they sent almost every penny of what they made home to their families, too. And even with all they accomplished here, they were still met with terrible treatment at times, and it made her blood boil. Not here, though. At Sandy's establishments, Remi and Norris were as good as partners, in her mind.

"The decorating I've done myself. I have to admit, I've had the idea in my head since we started the expansion project, so it's been bubbling around for a while and it's exciting to finally get to pull it off. Should be a grand old time. And the musical entertainment is supposed to be some of the best around."

Just talking about it made Sandy's eyes glitter with excitement. She really was looking forward to it, despite the jitters. It was, after all, the biggest event she'd ever hosted.

"Anyway you gentlemen are welcome to stay as long as you like. We'll keep the coffee coming, and anything from the breakfast menu as well. We're serving a limited selection this morning because of the preparation for the party, but there are plenty of things to choose from if you get hungry."

Lucy walks in a tea room, admiring the decor for the special occasion. As usual, Jane comes over to greet her.

"Welcome! Please sit anywhere you like."

"Thanks Jane. You guys have done quite well. Also sorry I am late. Last night was a little rough. You know how it is."

"I do. It's ok though. Sandy will be glad to see you show up."

Lucy takes a seat near the window and places her order.

"Let's start with a banana pudding and some coffee yes?"

"I'll bring that right up for you." Jane said, taking off.

Lucy couldn't help but light a cigarette.

"Goddamn it. I really have to quit these soon." she said to herself.

Walter flashed a smile once more, seeing Sandy's eyes light up as she told him all about the effort and passion poured into the grand event this evening. He couldn't help it, he just enjoyed seeing people talk about the things they feel passionately for.

"Well I can't wait to see it for myself, Sandy." He started as he took another sip of his warm coffee. "I appreciate the hospitality and will for sure sample some of the wares here while we wait. You take care, I'm sure we will se each other again this evening." 

Walter grinned before turning his attention to one of the menus placed neatly on the table. His eyes scanned over the choices before finally waving one of the staff over.

"Could I trouble you for an apple pear crisp?" He ask in a hushed voice before looking over to Jack across the table. "Actually, make that two, please." 

"That's a fine choice, especially with black coffee. As it happens, that's how I take my coffee, so I speak from experience."

Sandy winked and headed toward the kitchen. On the way, she looked up, almost instinctively, to Lucy's usual table. This time, she found her friend there. Catching Jane, Sandy passed off the coffee pot and Walter's order to the young lady and then stopped by to chat with her friend.

"You know I keep some of that in the icebox reserved for you at this point, right?"

Giggling, Sandy sat down across from Lucy and snagged a spoon.

"You're coming tonight, right?"

"Of course I am. I am not missing this for the world."

As Lucy was taking another puff of her cigarette, she started coughing.

"Ah what the hell." She said.

"You know, I heard they were saying that these things are bad for our health. Don't know if it is true though. You know how people are."

Lucy glanced at her cigarette one more time, and quickly put it out.

"If that's true I am screwed." she said jokingly.

Jane comes over with her order. Lucy slides $40 into Jane's pocket.

"Keep the change. You've been very nice to me."

The coral coloured Tea Room at stood in Detroit for longer than Tussy could remember. Once run by a kind, Southern lass, it now seemed to have taken on a life of its own. As though a permanent part of the Motor City's history, this place had become an institution. As he sat sipping his coffee, Tussy took the time to watch the crowds go by outside - women with their prams, men in suits, children playing in the streets....this city had it all. 'Strange I've never spent much time here....' he thought to himself.

Naturally, for those who knew him, this wasn't strange. The glow of the night, the weather, and his work ethic were things that kept him from settling down anywhere. 'She's running late.' he grumbled, checking his pocket watch. 'She's never late......'