he was in control of his own destiny, his own future, and maybe it was time to let old hurts go. Maybe it was time to focus on the new. Reel off and cast in.
As he ate the slice of pie—he’d had one and a half slices, Veronica remembered—he told her that he did have a bit of a crush on Jenny, the dark-haired waitress with the big blue eyes, and maybe he’d ask her out. The Cast-Out Pie had been a success and so Veronica had stuck with the peanut butter and coconut.
“I call that Cast-Out Pie,” Veronica said into the phone.
“It’ll really work?” the woman asked, the voice suddenly more hopeful.
“I’ll be honest—it’s one of my special elixir pies that doesn’t always do its job. I suppose you really, really, really have to want that person out of your heart for it to work. You have to be ready. If you’re not, it doesn’t seem to work. Some people are ready, they’re there, but memories keep pulling them back. Others truly aren’t ready to let go, even if it’s self-destructive.”
“Well, sometimes you don’t always know what’s best for you,” the woman snapped.
Veronica had a feeling this person was not ready, that the pie wouldn’t work. But the pain in the woman’s voice had gotten under Veronica’s skin. The woman was prickly. Prickly was a very uncomfortable way to be. Veronica wanted to help her.
“I’ll tell you what,” Veronica said. “When you pick up the pie, don’t pay me. If it works, you can leave the money in my mailbox. Fair enough?”
The woman was quiet for a moment. “All right. Tomorrow then?”
Tomorrow? She had her résumé and cover letter to go back over, the little photo shoot at Shelley’s tonight, and class to prepare for tomorrow. Plus, she was working the morning shift tomorrow and had to bake two special pies for clients after work and her own salted caramel cheesecake Hope Pie for herself. Tomorrow afternoon she’d need a good couple of hours to do some grocery shopping for her pie class and get everything set up.
And had the woman even said thank you for Veronica’s offer not to pay if the Cast-Out Pie didn’t work for her?
“Please,” the woman said, and again, something in her voice seemed so desperate that Veronica couldn’t say no.
Veronica breathed out a silent sigh. “If you come by around five p.m. tomorrow, I’ll have your pie ready.”
“Thank you,” she said finally, and hung up.
For a full minute, Veronica couldn’t shake the woman off, there had been something unsettling in her voice, something Veronica couldn’t pinpoint. She couldn’t get the woman’s bitter voice off her mind. Then again, that would be very helpful in making a Cast-Out Pie.
Chapter 6
GEMMA
On Monday morning at nine thirty, Gemma left the office of Dr. Laura Bauer, OB/GYN, with a confirmation of pregnancy—a second positive urine test anyway—a prescription for prenatal vitamins, and a due date.
January 3. A New Year’s baby.
The doctor had answered all of Gemma’s questions about what foods she should avoid (deli meats, high-mercury fish, and Caesar dressing because of the raw eggs) and whether she could drink just one cup of coffee a day (she could). She’d been lucky to get the appointment; June had discreetly asked Isabel for the name of her OB, and thanks to a last-minute cancellation this morning, Gemma had herself an appointment. She’d get the results of the blood test in a few days, but the doc had told her that with two positive pregnancy tests, she was most definitely pregnant.
She touched her stomach, still relatively flat. When would it feel real? When the baby kicked for the first time, maybe. Her wedding ring glinted in the sunshine as she walked down Main Street. I’m pregnant, she said to herself. I’m having a baby. It was real, even if it didn’t feel real yet. Perhaps it was better for Gemma that it didn’t feel real just yet. Part of her, the part that loved her husband like crazy, wanted to call him and share
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley