A Slice of Magic

Part of me wanted to shoo him away. ‘I can do it myself,’ had been my motto ever since I was a little kid and had read a Sesame Street book by that same title. But I glanced at the clock, and he was right. The shop was supposed to open in a couple hours. I had a feeling the town wouldn’t respond well to me just putting the ingredients in the display case and trying to sell them as a DIY pie kit.

‘Thanks,’ I said, a little reluctantly. I started peeling the apples.

He tossed the ingredients into the mixer, barely glancing at the recipe I had out on the counter. In no time, he had the ball of dough on the counter and was dividing it up.

‘Ah, ah,’ he began as if he was going to sneeze, then dazzled me with a smile. ‘Just kidding.’

I was tempted to throw a handful of flour at him, but I settled with fixing my withering glare towards him. I wasn’t quite ready to laugh at that yet.

‘So, tell me more about life at the nursing home,’ I said, as I slowly peeled my second apple.

‘They’ve all discovered social media,’ he said, darkly.

‘Really?’ I laughed.

‘Yup,’ he nodded. He had all the crusts prepared and had moved on to helping me peel apples. ‘Life used to be easy. I just had to set up bingo games and card tournaments. Now everyone is constantly handing me their phones and asking me to help them take selfies.’

I laughed. He was already on his fourth apple, and I was still struggling with my second. Tomorrow I would be sure to pick recipes that didn’t involve peeling anything. I wondered if with all the genetic engineering out there if you could buy peel-less apples.

‘That’s not even the worst part,’ he said. ‘Betty asked me to explain sexting to her.’ He shivered in horror at the memory.

‘Wow, no wonder you’re hiding out in here,’ I said.

‘I’m not hiding,’ he said, a little indignant. ‘I’m just doing a community service. The town needs their pie.’

He helped me make the apple pies and prepare the crusts for the blueberry pies. Soon the place was smelling like the pie shop it was.

‘I should probably get going.’ Henry headed towards the back door. ‘Remember to reduce the temperature in fifteen minutes.’ He pointed at the timer he’d set. ‘And here’s this just in case.’ He held up a handkerchief and set it on the corner of the desk with a wink before sliding out the back door.

I found myself still smiling after he left. I tried to wipe the smile off my face as I mixed the blueberries and sugar together. Sure, he was cute and he could bake, but I had to focus on the pie shop. Who knew how long I’d be here anyway?

I had a habit of ending up with boyfriends when I was lonely. Usually I chose them without much discretion. My mother disapproved of anyone I dated, so I had learned to accept her disapproval early on. As a result, it often took me longer to recognize when I disapproved.

I was startled out of my daydream by a meow, and to my horror I saw the same silver cat from yesterday sitting on the floor by the pantry. I lunged at it. Why had I left the door open? The cat smoothly sidestepped my grasp. I could hear Mitzy barking from behind the door at the top of the stairs.

Thank goodness I hadn’t unlocked the front door yet. The last thing I needed today was the health inspector stopping by while I chased a stray cat around the kitchen. I followed it as it ran under the kitchen island and around to the front of the shop. I stretched out my arms and felt the fur slip through my fingers. I grunted when I fell on my knees and prayed that Flora wasn’t looking in from her window just then. The cat disappeared under the display case. Out of breath, I dropped to my stomach and peered underneath expecting to see blue eyes staring back at me, but I couldn’t see anything. I ran back and found my phone so I could use the flashlight on it. I shined the light across the dark corners and saw nothing but a few dust bunnies. Mitzy continued to bark her encouragement from upstairs.

‘Here kitty, kitty, kitty.’ I tried to use a soothing voice. ‘I have tuna.’ I felt slightly guilty for lying, but I reassured myself that it was for a good cause. Where did the cat go?

I reached my hand underneath, cringing slightly as I imagined cat teeth taking off a finger. I felt nothing. Did she move when I wasn’t looking? I found that hard to believe, but as I flashed the light back and forth, I couldn’t figure out where she had ended up. I did four more laps around the kitchen dropping to the floor to check every nook and cranny. She must have gone out the back door when I wasn’t looking.

I closed the back door and locked it for good measure, then finished making the blueberry pies. Every now and then I thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye, and I turned my head expecting to see a cat. It was always my imagination.

I found the plates in one of the upper cupboards, all stacked and clean. I stood on my tip toes and carefully pulled the whole stack down. Whew, no problem. I balanced the plates in my hands and turned to bring them out front.

Something wrapped around my foot. Oh no, it’s the cat, I thought. I danced around trying to free myself before I realized that my computer was sliding precariously towards the edge of the kitchen island. I was tripping over my computer cord. Instinctively, I lunged to save my computer, dropping all the plates I had in my hands. The crash was still ringing in my ears as I froze, holding my computer. Every single one had broken. ‘Into a million pieces’ didn’t seem at all like an exaggeration. I crunched through the plate bits and found the broom and dustpan. I swept it up all the while wondering what I was going to serve pie on today.

With the pies still in the oven, I couldn’t run to the store to buy paper plates so I searched the cupboards for the second time today. The best I could come up with was a stack of pie tins. I was hoping that word would get out that I was quirky and fun with my innovative idea of serving pie in pie tins instead of the truth that I was a bumbling butterfingers.

My phone beeped and I jumped for it. It was a text from my friend, Michelle, asking if I wanted to go out for a drink tonight. Michelle and I had been friends since college when I helped her fix the desk in her dorm room. It had broken after she’d danced on top of it during an overly enthusiastic round of karaoke.

She considered it her job to make sure I got out on the town at least one night a week. I guess we hadn’t talked for a couple days. I explained where I was.

‘Whoa, that’s major. Keep me posted,’ she wrote back. We texted back and forth a little more, and I already felt homesick as our exchange reminded me how nice it was to talk to someone who knew me so well. ‘I have to go, but hurry home and bring pie,’ she wrote.

‘Will do.’ I blinked back tears as I set down my phone.

Flora, Lena, and Mr Barnes quite literally danced into the shop that morning. Mr Barnes was singing a Frank Sinatra song and twirling Lena as he walked through the door. Then he dipped her. I was amazed at their grace considering she was almost twice his size.

‘Pie’s on me this morning, ladies,’ he said, pausing his singing for a moment. ‘I’m just lucky to have three such beautiful women in my life.’ He looked up at me. ‘Would you like to dance?’ he asked, extending his hand in my direction.

‘I think I’ll just stick to serving pie for now,’ I laughed.

They all ordered blueberry pie and insisted that I sit with them again. I tried to turn them down as I still had a lot of baking practice to do today, but in the end, they wore me down. I was hungry, and anyway, it’s pretty much biologically impossible for me to turn down pie.

Flora said that the pie tin plates were fun, but she gave me a look that made me think she knew what had really happened. She probably heard the crash all the way over at her shop.

‘Who cleans the kitchen at the pie shop?’ I asked. They all froze with their eyes wide, forks poised over their slices of pie.

‘What do you mean, dear?’ Flora asked. She set down her fork and adjusted the napkin on her lap.

‘Last night when I went to bed, the kitchen was a disaster zone, and this morning when I woke up it was sparkly clean,’ I said.

‘Oh, that’s just…’ Lena began and then paused.

‘Minerva,’ Mr Barnes said just as Flora said, ‘Jane.’

‘Right, Minerva and Jane,’ Lena said. ‘They clean the kitchen every night.’

‘What time do they come?’ I asked. I wanted to be ready so I would know not to be panicked if I heard noises coming from downstairs. It would be best to know when to write it off as the cleaners and when to call the police.

‘They come different times each night,’ Mr Barnes said. ‘Usually when you’re sleeping.’

‘Like Santa Claus,’ Lena offered with a forced laugh.

‘OK,’ I said. I wondered why they were so acting so strangely. It seemed like a simple question.

My attention shifted, and I watched them all closely as they took their first bites of pie.

‘Did any of you read today’s “Ask Elodie”?’ Flora asked. She put her first bite into her mouth and sucked her cheeks in for a second before chewing. She glanced at me and gave me a big smile when she saw I was watching. Maybe I should have steered them all away from the blueberry pie and towards the apple pie that Henry had made.

‘Yes, of course,’ Mr Barnes said, and Lena nodded. They turned to me, and I stared at them all blankly.

‘It’s a column in the local paper,’ Flora explained. ‘It’s fantastic! Elodie gives out amazing advice.’

‘There’s usually a little gossip about the happenings in town too,’ Lena said. ‘Which of course we all love.’

‘That Elodie seems like a real spitfire,’ Mr Barnes chimed in taking his first bite and chewing only twice before swallowing.

‘Seems like?’ I asked. ‘Don’t you know who she is?’

Flora shook her head, ‘No, it’s a big mystery!’

‘Every now and then, Crazy Jackie claims it’s her, but that woman couldn’t find a shoe in a shoe store, much less give coherent advice like Elodie,’ Lena said. When she took a bite, her eyebrows rose for just a fraction of a second.

‘Anyway, we talk about her columns a lot, so you should probably keep up with them,’ Flora told me.

‘Of course, I’ll start to read them,’ I said, hoping that I would remember to do it when the day was over. It felt like it was non-optional homework. I took a bite of my blueberry pie, and slowly chewed as all the wrong flavors burst into my mouth. This didn’t taste like Aunt Erma’s pie. It was too sweet and the crumble topping wasn’t crumbling at all. It was too hard and crunchy. I would have to try a different recipe tomorrow. Or maybe I would have to just practice more.

When there was a lull in the conversation, I asked questions about Aunt Erma. ‘Didn’t she give you any idea where she was going?’ I asked.

‘I’m sorry, but she didn’t say,’ Flora said.

‘Don’t worry, she’ll probably be back before you know it,’ Lena offered.

‘But how did she sound when she left?’ I asked, remembering the anxious pitch of her voice in the message on my phone.

‘I didn’t actually see her before she left,’ Flora spoke slowly. ‘She taped the note for you and one for me on the back door of my shop.’

‘But you didn’t see her?’ I was hoping Flora would tell me that Aunt Erma seemed just fine and had a perfectly logical explanation for leaving me here alone. ‘What did she say in the note to you? Can I see it?’

‘She wrote that she had to go take care of something. I think I tossed the note out, but don’t worry, she sounded very calm and said she’d be back soon,’ Flora explained. She glanced over at Mr Barnes.

I wanted to believe her. I got up to serve two customers some apple pie.

‘It’s in a prime spot. It won’t be empty long,’ Lena was saying when I sat back down at the table.

‘What’s a prime spot?’ I asked.

‘There’s an empty storefront in the town square. It used to be McCullen’s Dress Shop until Stewart ran off with that woman who was passing through. What did she do for a living?’ Lena asked.

‘Pinball machine maintenance,’ Flora chimed in.

‘That’s a job?’ I began to wonder how many pinball machines there were in the world, how often they broke down, and how one would train to become a pinball maintenance person.

The conversation slid along while I pondered these things, leaving me no time to ask my suddenly burning questions about pinball machine maintenance.

‘I hope it’s a pet store,’ Mr Barnes said. Apparently, the only thing holding him back from getting a cat was the lack of easy access to pet supplies.

‘He’s been using that excuse for ages,’ Lena said. ‘He’s never going to get a cat.’

‘There’s a cat that’s been hanging around the back door. You could probably adopt her,’ I offered.

‘I think I’ve seen that cat. The one with the silver fur?’ Flora said.

‘Yes!’

‘I hadn’t seen her until recently but I don’t think she’s a stray. She looks well cared for,’ Flora said, shoving the last of her pie into her mouth and washing it down with a big gulp of coffee.

‘I wish she’d spend more time at her home then,’ I grumbled.

‘Maybe it will be one of those fancy wine bars. I’ve always wanted to sniff and swirl a glass of wine and talk about the various subtle flavor notes,’ Lena said.

‘I just hope it’s not another bookstore,’ Flora said. ‘It’s a tough market already.’

‘Even if there were a hundred bookstores in town, yours would still be the best,’ Mr Barnes said, patting her arm.

‘I just hope that whatever it is, they’re ready to deal with the idiosyncrasies of this town. That takes a special person,’ Lena added. ‘Like Susanna.’

I nodded, giving them a weak smile as I thought about my packed bag upstairs.

Chapter 4

Day 3 ― Friday, November 4th

Dear Elodie,

I just started a new job, and it’s not going well. I’m over-motivated and under qualified. I feel like everyone is watching, waiting for me to make a mistake. Unfortunately, I give people a lot to talk about with all the mistakes that I make. Should I just go back to my old job? Or should I stick it out and hope that I get better?

Sincerely,

A Success at Failure

Dear A Success at Failure,

‘Fake it till you make it’ is a phrase for a reason. You can succeed at your new job. It just might take a little time, and even though you may not realize it, there are people around you who want to see you succeed and will be happy to help you. Put a smile on your face and move forward with confidence. I have no doubt you’ll be successful at anything you put your mind to.

Ask and I’ll Answer,

Elodie

I could still see the flames dancing behind my eyelids every time I blinked. Day two of baking my own pies was not going better than day one.

‘The fire extinguisher is right here. Try to remember that next time.’ A man with cropped blond hair pointed to the red canister on the wall while two other firefighters opened the windows to air the place out. I certainly hoped there wouldn’t be a next time.

‘Yeah, I see it now. Thanks.’ I couldn’t keep the edge out of my voice, and my hand shook as I brushed the hair out of my face. I vaguely remembered seeing it there, but I had never been one to react well in a panic situation.

When I’d first started working at Hal’s Handyman, I drilled a hole in a water line when I was hanging some pictures in a bathroom. Water was spraying out of the wall, and I ran around in circles yelling and slipping in puddles until my friend and coworker Josh walked in and calmly turned off the water at the shutoff valve. Josh was one of those people who never got riled up about anything.

‘I heard this little guy whimpering at the top of the stairs.’ The redheaded firefighter came over carrying Mitzy. She handed me the wide-eyed dog.

It had happened so fast. Smoke poured out of the oven. The smoke detectors screeched loudly. When I opened the oven door, the bottom was on fire. I ran to the sink and filled my hands with water and splashed it inside, which of course did nothing. So, I’d grabbed a towel, got it wet, and threw it on the flames. It wasn’t wet enough because it ignited immediately. Finally, I got a bowl of water and managed to douse the flames, but not before getting a visit from the friendly neighborhood fire department.

‘Could you turn the flashing lights off?’ I asked. A crowd had begun to gather in the street.

‘Yes, but everyone in town will still know we were here within the hour,’ the guy said.

‘Don’t worry. They’ll have something else to talk about tomorrow.’ The last firefighter came over carrying a clipboard. He took his helmet off and tucked it under his arm. His gray hair was slicked back, and his piercing blue eyes gave me a good-natured wink.

I’d found Aunt Erma’s sales records in one of the files in the bottom drawer of her desk. My first day in town, when everyone came to gawk, I had sold more than she did on an average day. Yesterday, I had only done about a quarter of the business she usually did. I was hoping I could do better today. I was not off to a good start.

After the firefighters left, I set Mitzy on one of the red chairs out front and surveyed the kitchen. I coughed a little. The smoke was thinning now that they had all the doors and windows opened.

I could still hear the excited chatter of the lookie-loos outside. Why didn’t they just go home?

I finished putting together and baking the other pies. I stared through the window of the oven, panicked that some juice might spill over and start an oven fire. I couldn’t have the fire department out twice in one day.

The Morning Pie Crew were my first customers of the day. Mr Barnes and Lena teasingly sang a few rounds of ‘Ring of Fire.’ Flora, with her brow wrinkled, kept asking if I was OK. Finally, they changed the subject.

‘The Fall Festival is next week!’ Flora said, clapping her hands.

‘I know! I can’t wait!’ Lena squealed. ‘I heard that they are going to have dueling pianos as the entertainment this year. There’s something about two people playing the piano that really gets me going. I’ll be ready to shake my money maker!’ She wiggled a little in her seat, giving us a preview of things to come.

‘What’s the Fall Festival?’ I asked.

‘It’s our town’s celebration of fall,’ Mr Barnes offered helpfully. ‘Really, just an excuse to eat mini donuts and drink Lena’s special lemonade.’ He gave her a wink.

‘My lemonade will put hair on your chest,’ Lena added.

‘Erma’s Pies has a booth there,’ Flora told me. ‘You should probably start preparing in case Erma’s not back in time.’

My eyes widened. How could I prepare for this when I could barely keep the pie shop running?

‘Erma made eighty pies last year,’ Lena chimed in. ‘And she sold out before noon!’

I tried to speak, but I think I just let out a little squeak. Eighty pies? At the rate I was baking, I would have to start now to be ready … for next year’s festival.

‘Remember six years ago when the clown snuck up on Gerald?’ Lena hooted. ‘Gerald is the town wrestler,’ she explained to me, as though ‘town wrestler’ was an actual title that should make sense to me.

‘Oh yes,’ Mr Barnes said with a chuckle. ‘Gerald is a big guy, as you can imagine, and he ran screaming from the town square. We had to send out a search party! We finally found him in the lilac bushes behind the old church.’

‘You guys shouldn’t be laughing at him,’ Flora tsked. ‘Fear of clowns is a legitimate thing.’

‘Even Gerald laughs at it now,’ Lena said. ‘Though we haven’t had a clown at the festival since.’

I stopped listening as I began to wonder how I could make enough pies for the festival. On the plus side, my baking wasn’t as good as Aunt Erma’s yet, so maybe I wouldn’t sell as much. Perhaps I could get by with baking forty, or maybe even thirty pies. But the thought of baking even thirty pies all at once made my head spin. When I finally tuned back into the conversation, they had moved off the topic of clowns and phobias.

Just before closing time, a customer came in. She was much shorter than I was and very muscular. She wore a bright yellow workout shirt with the name Gina’s Gym embroidered in the corner. I greeted her with a smile.

‘What can I get for you?’ I asked. ‘The blueberry crumble has been mighty popular today.’ I tried my best sales pitch even though most customers today had only come in to order coffee so they could ask me about the fire.

At that, she wrinkled her nose. How dare she? Who wrinkled their nose at blueberry crumble pie? I could already tell that she and I would not be friends.

‘I’m not here for pie,’ she said. Clearly, she wandered through the wrong door. ‘I’m here to discuss the possibility of you serving healthier options at your establishment.’

‘What?’

‘The town is participating in a statewide weight loss challenge,’ she told me. ‘It’s going to be great publicity for my gym, but so many people have been coming into your shop every day and overindulging on empty calories that we’re having trouble making much headway.’

I stared blankly at her, which she took as a sign that she should continue talking.

‘I’m certainly not suggesting that you close your doors completely,’ she said, though the look on her face made me think she would like to suggest that. ‘I’d just like to recommend you try some of these recipes for healthier alternatives.’ She pushed a booklet across the counter towards me. I read the title: Fat Free Pies and Desserts. She had to be kidding. I wanted to throw her out, but despite my height advantage, I was pretty sure she could take me. So, I tried a different approach instead.

‘I’ll have to discuss it with my aunt when she gets back. She is the owner, after all. I don’t really have the power to make these decisions,’ I told her with a forced smile.

‘Well, every day counts,’ she said brightly. ‘Maybe you could call your aunt and then start implementing some changes. After all, obesity is a growing epidemic, and we all need to do our part to keep our town healthy.’

‘Pie makes people happy,’ I said through gritted teeth.

‘Ah, you’re one of those people. You probably eat chocolate when you’re sad too.’ She sized me up, her eyes rested for a moment on my thighs.

‘Oh look, it’s closing time,’ I said, even though there was still twenty minutes to go. ‘I have to lock up. Thanks for stopping in.’ I was unable to keep the hint of sarcasm out of my voice for the last part. I forced a polite smile, straining my cheek muscles, as I ushered her out the door. I picked up the booklet she left by the corner as though it might bite me and carried it directly to the garbage. I was pretty sure Aunt Erma wouldn’t be changing any of her famous recipes to low fat options. Even the thought made me shudder.

I was relieved to flip the sign at the front door from open to closed and lock up as soon as the clock switched from 5.59 p.m. to 6 p.m. I waved to Flora who was sitting in the window of her bookshop. Her open sign was still lit up.

Upstairs, I found Mitzy drooling on the newspaper that had been sitting on the kitchen table from this morning. She cracked an eye open when she heard me come in.

‘Oh, come on,’ I said, pulling the newspaper out from under her. She stood up with a sniff and stretched. I brought her outside, fed her, and took her outside again. She seemed to enjoy lying on my stuff, and I was worried what else she might do if given the opportunity.

After I was convinced Mitzy’s bladder was empty, I decided to stop at Flora’s bookshop to see if I could find a cookbook. Maybe something there would spark my inner Aunt Erma that I couldn’t seem to find on the internet. The sun was beginning to set on my short walk over to Flora’s, giving the streets a nice orange glow.