Miracle Pie (21 page)

She lied, telling them how great they were,
that talent agents from Los Angeles would fly to Miracle to sign
them up. Making them laugh giddily, as if they harbored the hope
that it might really happen.

In truth, she couldn’t look at the videos.
Afraid they hearing his voice would make her ache too much. It
would make her miss him. Long for him.

Something miraculous happened when Gabe
asked questions from behind the camera. He called something from
people’s souls that showed up on film.

On the second day Rosa called her,
excitement in her voice, to tell her they had over $24,000
already.

“This is the miracle that was prophesied,”
Rosa said.

“It was Gabe,” Katie said. “He’s a magic
man.”

“I remember that song, and it wasn’t money
the singer was talking about. Are you in love with him?”

From outside the back door, Happy howled,
wanting to come inside. Katie crossed to it. “He’s good in
bed.”

Rosa laughed. “I would’ve guessed that. I’m
glad you had it with him. Do you want more?”

Katie opened the door and Happy trotted in.
Except for the white on her face and her limping walk, no one
would’ve known she wasn’t a young dog. Happy was an old dog with a
young attitude.

“To be with Gabe,” Katie said, “I’d have to
move out of Miracle.”

“You could just have an affair. You could go
to Chicago for a few days. Tony’s saving for something he’s not
telling me about. He could use some extra money, and he knows his
way around a kitchen. He could bake and deliver your pies. Leave
the recipes you don’t mind sharing.”

It’s not my recipes that make the
difference, Katie thought, it’s me.

“Other times,” Rosa continued, “Gabe could
come to Miracle and visit you.”

“You make it sound easy. I do one thing, and
he does the other. But I don’t think it would work.”

“Love isn’t easy. It’s messy.” Rosa’s voice
was flat. “I take back all my advice. I’m the last person who
should try to matchmake. I saw Amber at Wegner’s this morning. She
was wearing a maternity top.”

“Bitch.”

“She and Mike make a good pair. A bitch and
a bastard. I think Tony’s going to quit. He said he can’t stand
working with her still waitressing. Maybe that’s why he’s saving
his money. To tide him over.”

“He could get a job anywhere. Any restaurant
owner in the county would snap him up.”

“They would. But I don’t know if cooking is
his passion.”

“What is his passion?”

“If he has one, he’s not telling me.” Rosa’s
voice was sharp with worry.

Katie grimaced. It seemed everyone she knew
had troubles except Happy. She’d already sniffed her dog dish just
in case Katie had gone crazy and thrown in extra food while she was
outside. Finding nothing there, she was lapping up her water. When
that was done she would tour the floor in the cooking area to see
if she missed any crumbs on her last tour.

No wonder she lived for so long. All the
important chores she needed to do every day... She had
responsibilities. Who would do them if she wasn’t there?

“But this isn’t about me,” Rosa went on.
“Back to you—”

“No.” Katie snapped her attention back from
Happy. Rosa wanted to worry about Katie because it would keep her
from worrying about her sons and her own life. “I’m happy.”

“You’re a liar.”

“I have a wonderful life.”

“Maybe you do.”

“I do.” Katie imagined the words firm, like
the bricks in Sam’s fireplace. Firm like Rosa’s will power—which
was much stronger than Katie’s.

It was hard fooling Rosa...and impossible to
fool herself.

“Why is everyone trying to change my
life?”

“Because we want to see you happy.”

“I am.”

“Okay. If you really mean it.”

Katie laughed but heard the hysterical note
in her voice. Her laugh stopped in a gusty inhale, and she said
goodbye. She stepped out to Happy, scooped her up then headed
toward the living room.

“Come on, baby. You know I don’t need a man
to be happy, don’t you? It’s not because I’m afraid. It’s because I
know this will go away.” She plopped onto the sofa, Happy on her
lap. “I’ll learn to be happy without him. After all, being happy is
what everyone wants.”

Happy pushed her ear against Katie’s hand,
saying without words,
Pet me right here.

Obliging, Katie lowered her head and
whispered into the floppy ear. “So why is it so hard to find
happiness? And when we do, why is it so hard to hang onto it?”

***

The need to make a Mourning Pie hit Katie as
she was about to go to bed. It would mean a loss of an hour’s
sleep, so she went to her bedroom, Happy bobbing along behind her.
She could make the pie tomorrow morning.

But in bed every time she closed her eyes
they immediately popped open. And her mind was wide awake though
this was the same time she went to bed nearly every night. And it
had been a busy day, as usual.

Finally she got out of bed and gathered the
ingredients. Flour, sugar, butter, eggs, vanilla, milk and
coconut.

It must be something in the coconut, she
thought, that made it her Mourning Pie. She didn’t know what it
was, just that it worked.

It didn’t take long to make it, but she had
to stay awake while it baked. While she waited, she finally watched
the videos Gabe had filmed. They were short, most under three
minutes. She watched hers last and saw it had more than 20,000
views. Amazing.

She wanted badly to call Gabe. Instead she
pressed the arrow to bring the video to life. As soon as her video
image started to talk, she put her hands over her mouth. This was
her second video, and she still felt odd watching herself.

When it was over, she brought her hands
down. It hadn’t been too bad. She had a great feeling about the way
the village had come together. It was a good thing that they had
done. It had changed the village—at least for a short time. People
were smiling at each other like they were in Mayberry.

When the pie came out, it looked perfect.
She set it on the counter to cool, sent silent prayers to whoever
was going to get the pie, then shut down her laptop and went to bed
where Happy was still snoring softly, not even aware that she’d
gotten up.

As she lay down, she wondered for one second
who was going to get the bad news. Not Trish, she thought fiercely,
not her best friend.

Then she closed her eyes and that was the
last thing she remembered before something woke her.

She lay stiff for a moment. It was usually
dark when she woke up, but tonight it seemed darker. And it didn’t
feel right in her bedroom.

Slowly she turned her head to look at the
clock with the red LED numbers. 2:19. Definitely not her normal
wake up time.

Her heart pounded and she kept her breath
shallow, the better to listen for any sounds that shouldn’t be
there.

Nothing. No footsteps, no breathing, no
creaks.

No snoring.

Her heart breath caught and she rolled out
of bed then stumbled to the light switch.
No, no, no
.
Not
Happy.

The snoring didn’t mean anything, she told
herself. Happy didn’t snore all the time, just most of the
time.

Katie blinked at the sudden light and
hurried to where Happy lay on her side in the corner. She knelt and
put her hand on Happy’s head. She was warm.

A breath of relief shuddered out, then she
put her head closer to Happy’s to drop a kiss on her head...and she
didn’t hear any breathing.

The
oh no
chorus in her head changed
to
Please, God, let her live
as she slid her fingers under
the loose folds of Happy’s neck to feel for a pulse.

Nothing. There was no movement, no
breathing, no heart beating.

Her knees dropped onto the short-napped
carpet. Bending forward, she leaned her cheek against the back of
Happy’s head and sobbed.

Chapter Thirty-eight

“You look like hell.” Sam waited in his back
yard for Katie to reach him, the early morning sun showing the
crags and valleys in his face. Behind him was the barn and behind
that the cut fields. A ginger cat strolled out of the barn to give
Katie a curious look. It turned away, not interested. After all,
there were mice and squirrels to hunt this time of year. What human
could compete with that?

Smart cat, Katie thought, then shifted her
gaze back to her dad. “I feel like hell. Do you want pie?”

“You gave me two pies on Sunday.”

“This is my coconut pie.”

“Your Mourning Pie? Who died?”

Tears heated her eyes, but she kept staring
at him. “Happy.”

“Oh shit. I’m sorry, honey.” He stepped
forward and hugged her, holding her for a long moment. She closed
her eyes and allowed herself to lean against him. To listen to the
wind and the rustle of the leaves on the ground, an animal running
through the yard. Somewhere a caw sounded. Crows. Vultures.

She pulled away from Sam, sniffing, her eyes
damp, though she’d cried too much already this morning. “I’m sorry,
too.”

“She was old. It’s amazing she lived this
long.” One side of his mouth kicked up slightly. “Maybe it’s your
pies. I always said that your pies are magic.”

She smiled even as her eyes filled again.
She’d only given Happy a few bites now and then, a few crumbs.
Sweets weren’t good for dogs, but eating was Happy’s joy. And even
with the occasional treat, she’d outlived every other dog that
Katie had known.

“Will you bury her?” she asked, her voice
thick. “By the apple trees? She really liked apples.”

He nodded. “I’ll do that first thing.”

“And, Dad.” She put her hand on his arm.
“I’m going to Chicago.”

“For how long?”

She shrugged. She didn’t even know if Gabe
wanted her there. She just knew that she wanted to be with him.
There was an ache in her heart that wouldn’t heal until she saw
him. Kissed him. Held him.

She wanted Gabe to wrap his arms around her,
hold her against him and whisper words of comfort in her ear. She
wanted him to tell her that Happy was in heaven, waiting for her.
As if he really was her angel and knew about dogs in heaven.

“What about your pies?” her dad asked.

“I called Tony. He’s taking over for me.
Rosa has the key to my house. I’m leaving my recipes and
instructions. Everything I could think of.”

“What will his dad say?”

“Tony doesn’t care. He quit.”

Sam nodded approval. “I bet Rosa’s
happy.”

“I imagine she’s not too upset.”

Sam chuckled, and she smiled weakly. “I’m
leaving my van. Tony will need it for deliveries. Can I borrow your
car?”

He agreed, as she knew he would. She had
uneven parents. One was the best in the world. The other was a
stranger.

Maybe that was life, the good and the bad.
Burying her dog was very, very bad.

“Did you call Gabe?” Sam asked.

She shook her head. She didn’t know why the
reluctance. Fear that he’d say no? Fear that she might get halfway
there and not be able to drive the other half. The place she didn’t
even like to think of.

Her only good memories of Chicago were the
ones of Gabe.

“He might not even be there. And then where
will you be?”

“Chicago.”

The furrows on his forehead deepened. “Call
him.”

She nodded and slowly walked to the house
with the memories of her dead dog and her absent lover in every
room.

Instead of picking up the phone, she stared
at it. Maybe he was seeing someone else already. For all she knew,
he might be with several women.

But the thought didn’t make her want to run
inside her house and make a Cheating Pie.

Then she remembered Happy’s body, wrapped in
her favorite blanket like a taco on the front porch. Happy always
liked the front porch, especially on sunny days like today, with
the rays of light shining down on her.

The thought of Happy and her resiliency, the
way she plowed through life even in old age and never whined, the
way she accepted each indignity—the arthritis, the cataracts, the
loss of hearing—and kept on going, gave Katie strength. Her
shoulders squared, she grabbed the phone and called Gabe. He picked
up on the fourth ring.

“Katie,” he said, his voice gravelly with
sleep.

Immediately her eyes filled with tears and
she turned into a wuss.

Happy was a better dog than Katie was a
woman.

“Happy died last night.”

“Baby, I’m sorry.” His voice was clear now.
She pictured him sitting up in bed, swinging his legs over the
side, a frown of concern on his face. The face she wanted badly to
see in person.

She sniffed noisily. “I’m okay.”

“You don’t have to be brave. Not with me. I
have two interviews this morning, but I’ll leave right afterward.
I’ll cancel my appointments for tomorrow. I’ll be at your place
this afternoon.”

Relief shuddered through her. But instead of
assuaging her grief, it intensified. As if he’d given her
permission to mourn. Hunching her shoulders, she rocked back and
forth to keep from crying.

“Katie?”

“I’m here.” Her voice came out high and
wobbly. “I have a better idea. I’ll drive to Chicago.”

There was silence on the other end. Then he
said one word. “Come.”

Chapter Thirty-nine

Chicago was bright and shiny, and Chicago
was dingy and dirty. Katie saw cars and buildings and stop signs
and stop lights and traffic. Most of all there were roads.
Highways, side roads, alleys, toll roads, expressways. She drove on
a side street now, gripping the steering wheel and breathing
shallowly, driving slowly to read the street signs. Something the
man behind her didn’t like, apparently, as he squealed past her
dad’s car.

Oh God, there was the sign for Gabe’s
street. She felt like a used dishcloth, but she turned the wheel
and kept driving, looking anxiously at the addresses of the brick
apartment buildings that lined the street. Toward the end of the
block she saw a man standing on the sidewalk, looking her way. Was
it—?