Odd Prompts: Slice of Pie

If you've read my story in He Was Dead When I Got There, you'll recognize the setting and a couple of characters. This is set in my Bluehills series, which will be released under my romance penname, Lilania Begley.

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Coffee and pie in hand, she stepped back out of the kitchen. She’d gotten halfway to the back to deliver them when a battered truck pulled into the lot, and up to the front of the diner. Drema recognized it, and the young woman who climbed out of it, hat mostly covering her brown hair. 

Drema finished serving her customer, and turned to greet her next customer. 

“Evenin’ Pattie,” Drema waved. “The usual?” 

“Please.” Pattie dropped onto one of the counter stools. “Family visits should last just long enough you always wish they lasted longer.” 

“Ayup.” Drema “What kind of pie d’you want?” 

Pattie grinned, her face lighting up. She stood, feet on the support of the padded stool, and shouted into the kitchen. “Ay! Hector! What pie should I have?” 

Hector Ilvan popped out of the swinging door. “I have a blood orange meringue you’ll like, Ms. Pattie.” 

“Knock it off with that Ms. I’m a Miss, and you know it. Serve it up!” 

She settled back into her seat. Drema, chuckling, slid a glass of milk to her. “You do favor that boy.” 

“Oh, not like that.” Pattie’s face was a picture. “But he’s nice and he’s had a hard time. Plus, he makes rockin’ pies.” 

“That he does.” Drema agreed. “What family are you wishin’ were moving along already?” 

Pattie made a face. Drema nodded. “That’s what I thought.” 

“And it’s not like I can leave.” The young woman, who had taken her hat off and rested it carefully, brim side up, on the stool next to her, slumped onto the counter. Her brown hair was pulled back into a neat braid that slipped over her shoulder. “Mom and Dad left the place to both of us, which, ok, I understand. But now?” 

“Two women under one roof.” Drema shook her head. “It can work. Mind, they have to want it to work.” 

“Oh, I do,” Pattie’s wail was heartfelt, and she looked around the Diner sheepishly and lowered her voice to a more suitable level. “I don’t know why I can’t make her happy. I spend all my time out in the barn or riding the fences. Whatever chore I can find out of the house. I don’t eat much in the house, even...” 

“Or at all.” Drema snorted and tapped Pattie’s arm with her little order book. “Let me take care of this table, you have your pie and milk now.” 

The older woman moved away, leaving Pattie to check out the pie from all angles, fork poised.

The quiet man in the back table, only a few feet from the counter, cleared his throat. She looked sharply at him. 

“It’s good,” he gestured at his own plate, which held a few crumbs. “Tart, but more nuanced than a lemon meringue.” 

Pattie blinked. “Well, thanks. Um. Don’t ‘member meeting you afore. I’m Patricia Sord.” 

“Ma’am.” He picked up his hat from the seat beside him. “Nice to meet you. I’m Dan... Smith.” 

She cut the tip of slice and carefully set it aside. “Best bite. Always save it for last.” 

“I’ll remember that.” There was a ghost of a dimple, and then he stood, towering over her. “

“You can’t go yet. You don’t know if I like it.” Pattie grinned at him, and took a piece on her fork, then popped it into her mouth. “Mmmm.” She swallowed a moment later, and told him, “Hector has outdone himself. I think it’s better than the fake apple pie.” 

“The... what?” The tall stranger cocked his head slightly. 

“I’ll tell him to make you one. You’ll be surprised.” She nodded emphatically, her braid bouncing. 

“I don’t know if I will be back...” He glanced towards Drema, who was laughing as she settled up with her other table. “It’s homey, though.” 

“Yep. Best kind of family. The kind you want to see and miss when you don’t.” Pattie sighed. “Anyway, you won’t find anything like Hector’s pies in five counties.” 

“Not even this side of Vienna and their patisseries.” He almost smiled, then, and the dimple made a pronounced appearance. “I have to wonder where he studied.” 

“Oh, here.” Pattie gestured in the general direction of the kitchen door. “Cookie taught him. Hector was a green-haired Fed when he came to town, but he got better.” 

Drema, had she been paying attention, would have caught the faint signals of astonishment on the tall stranger’s face for the second time that evening, the slight flare of the nostril and widening of the eyes. Pattie chattered on. 

“His boss set him up for a fall, and he wound up here, sayin’ he is happy for the first time in his life, baking things that really make a difference in the world.” She got serious, suddenly, and stabbed her fork in midair towards her new friend’s chest. “Pie makes folks happy, see? And happy people is nice people, mindin’ their business and the law. Foundation of society, Dad always said.” 

He blinked. “He wasn’t wrong, I suppose. Belly full of that pie will make the body peaceable.” 

Pattie nodded again. “Yep. It’s all that health-food that tastes like cow manure will make you bitter and dried up and angry-like.” 

Drema came up in time to hear that last part. “Can’t help, that’s for sure.” 

Now, he really did smile, then laugh. “Ladies, between you and the pie, my heart is lighter. I thank you.” 

Pattie stood up on her stool and hollered again. “Ay! Hector! You did good!” 

***

My prompt this week came from Leigh Kimmel with "Family visits should last just long enough that you wish they could last a little longer."

I prompted AC Young with "It was the tail end of the year"

You can read all of the prompt responses, and join in on the fun of the challenge, over at More Odds Than Ends. It's a new year! Time for new creative growth!