Killer Chocolate Pecan Pie

by Carolyn Q. Hunter

  “Oh, dear. I never knew that,” Bert admitted with a hint of embarrassment showing in her cheeks.

  “It’s fine, really.” The sound of the choir warming up came from behind the chapel doors.

  “What are you doing here this morning? Are those for us?” Janie asked, motioning toward the stack of pies.

  “Yes, they sure are. Pastor Chimney asked me to cater to the choir this week and, seeing as it’s Christmas, I agreed.”

  “Well, I look forward to having a slice. I better get in there or I’ll miss warm-ups completely.” With that, she disappeared through the doors.

  Once she was gone, Carla folded her arms and put on a sly smile.

  “What?” Bert asked.

  “I don’t know. Sometimes, people just surprise you is all. I mean, singing? I never would have pegged her for it.”

  “Oh, come on. She’s just trying to get into the spirit of the season. She doesn’t have anyone to spend the holiday with like you and me.”

  Carla raised an eyebrow. “You mean you’ve decided to spend Christmas with Harry, right?”

  Bert rolled her eyes, refusing to answer her friend. “Come on. Let’s drop these off in the kitchen.”

  “Wait. Hold on.”

  Getting tired of holding the stack of pies, Bert sighed. She loved her friend dearly, but perhaps bringing her along to the church hadn’t been the best idea. “What, Carla?”

  “Don’t you want to see who the new choir director is?” she asked.

  Bert paused, unable to help her curiosity. Spotting a small side table next to one of the couches in the foyer, she set the stack down. “You bet.”

  Chapter Four

  Opening the door slowly and quietly, the two women poked their heads into the chapel. The room was long with rows and rows of wooden benches. The church was an older building, so therefore, it had the older style of seating. The benches were notorious for putting your butt to sleep—or as Carla liked to call it TBS.

  Tired butt syndrome.

  There had been many a week at church when neither Bert nor Carla could stand up after the sermon was done thanks to their legs being uncomfortable and tingly while the feeling came back into them.

  The roof was vaulted with wooden arch supports. Green garland, red ribbon, and white lights wrapped each of the beams in preparation for the Christmas sermon coming up that Sunday.

  At the front of the chapel was an elevated stand with a built-in pulpit (standing even higher) for the purpose of delivering sermons. Against the back wall were rows of brass pipes, all connected to the organ. The stand had benches of its own where the choir stood during church performances.

  That’s where they were now, standing in front of their seats while they did warm-ups. Many of them were still bundled up in jackets and scarfs. The chapel could get pretty darn cold, all things considered. It was the result of an old boiler system that just struggled to pump hot air through the baseboard heaters in the large room.

  Standing at the head of the choir was a woman whom Bert couldn’t readily recognize from behind. “Who is that?” Bert whispered.

  “I can’t tell yet,” Carla answered. “You don’t think Pastor Chimney hired someone else outside the congregation to lead this year, do you?”

  Bert thought about this possibility for a second. The Christmas Eve at the Cathedral performance was a citywide event. Each year, it was held in the same place. Mother Mary’s Cathedral was the oldest and largest church in the city. Its traditional gothic architecture, right down to copycat bell towers that made it look like Notre Dame, gave it a grandiose appearance.

  The Culver’s Hood Symphony Orchestra played at the event. Various choirs, including high school, children’s, and church choirs all sang at the event. They all were accompanied by the orchestra.

  It truly was a magnificent event. The acoustics in the cathedral were unmatched, even by the local performing arts center.

  It wouldn’t be a surprise if Pastor Chimney had given in and gotten a professional director for the choir in order to make a big impression this year. On the other hand, it also seemed a tad out of character for him. He believed in having congregation participation wherever and whenever possible.

  “No, I don’t think he hired someone,” Bert finally answered.

  “Then who is it?” Carla insisted.

  They didn’t have to wait long for an answer. The side door on the stand nearest to the organ opened and much to their surprise, Gracie emerged. She stood there with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her lips.

  “Uh-oh,” Carla whispered.

  Almost as if her very presence sucked the holiday spirit from the room, the choir all went silent, their voices squeaking into silence as if they each were afraid of their former director. At the very least, they felt bad for her.

  This was an awkward situation to say the least.

  It reminded Bert of a scene from an old western movie when the outlaw all dressed in black walked into the saloon doors and the piano player stopped playing and all the poker players grew silent to stare at the dangerous stranger.

  The new choir director revealed herself as she turned to the side, looking at the intruder.

  “It’s Shay Hanson,” Carla gasped ever so quietly, not wanting to draw Gracie’s death glare in their direction.

  “I thought she looked pretty young,” Bert admitted.

  Shay was a new addition to the congregation, having only joined a few months earlier. However, if Bert’s memory served correctly, Shay was a music teacher at one of the local schools and had gotten the job that same school year. She couldn’t remember which one school she taught at but did remember attending one of the concerts. Bert had been impressed with how Shay could shape those kids voices into something so coherent—for kids at least.

  Honestly, though, if there was a good replacement for Gracie—who had proven to be a talented director through the years—it was Shay.

  Based on the sour grape look of Gracie’s face, she didn’t agree with that sentiment.

  “Gracie, how good to see you,” Shay declared, putting on a big smile and using the voice she likely used in her classroom with the children. “The pastor told me you’d be sitting in on the rehearsals to help me out.”

  Gracie huffed.

  “Do you want to sit down?”

  “Ha, you’d wish,” she snapped, refusing to take a seat despite visibly shaking.

  “What is she doing?” Carla wondered. “Why doesn’t she sit down?”

  “I don’t know,” Bert admitted, but she had a good guess. Gracie wanted to show she was still capable by remaining standing. Perhaps she thought if she showed how she was more qualified than Shay in front of the whole choir she could win her position as director back.

  “Well, did you hear them sing the last number? We’d love your feedback.”

  “I have some questions for you, young lady,” she said, not answering the question.

  “What do you mean?” Shay inquired, tilting her head to one side and keeping her sweet tone going.

  “I went on that thing you kids call the social media and had a look at you and your recent activities.”

  There were uncomfortable murmurs from the group, all wondering what they’d signed up for. When agreeing to sing in the choir and to help spread some Christmas cheer, they probably didn’t factor in a catfight between one of their oldest congregants and one of their youngest ones.

  “Social media is a great tool for connecting people. It is a vital part of my job as a teacher, in fact. I even made an online group for the choir. I could add you to it if you like.”

  Gracie let out one loud, “Ha,” that echoed off the church ceiling. “A likely story, my dear.”

  Shay patiently folded her hands in front of herself, looking ever more like a school teacher. “Now, Gracie, if you have a suggestion, I’d love to hear it.” She was being very patient. Bert figured Pastor Chimney had arranged all this and Shay had agreed to collaborating.

&nbs
p; “No.”

  “Or if you would like to take a turn directing the next number, that is fine as well,” she offered, a little more generously than Bert would have ever been.

  It was a kind gesture. In fact, the whole set up was a perfect solution. If Gracie really had been replaced due to health, even working together as joint directors would mean less stress and strain on the older woman.

  “Like I would ever take a back seat in my own job,” she retorted angrily.

  “So much for kindness,” Carla whispered.

  “No, I wouldn’t work with someone with bad habits like yours, my dear.”

  There were audible gasps from the choir members. It was a rude quip, even for Gracie.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Shay said, still politely, but more firmly.

  “I saw those pictures of you.”

  “Pictures?”

  “The ones of you at the slot machines in Vegas,” Gracie declared loudly, her eyes bugging out and a big smile coming to her lips as if she’d said something worthy of blackmail.

  Shay’s lips twitched, and Bert could tell the young woman was holding back a chuckle at this revelation. Additionally, there was a sense of relief, of humor even, among the choir members. While no one suspected Shay of anything dubious, Gracie could have said anything to try and embarrass her.

  “You mean my trip with my sorority sisters over the summer?” Shay inquired.

  Bert suddenly remembered that was why Shay seemed so young. She’d literally just graduated college that year, turning around and getting a teaching job right away for the new year. If she graduated with a group of her sorority sisters, it would make absolute sense that they would celebrate the success of getting their degrees by going on a girl’s trip together.

  Not to mention, Vegas was a popular vacation spot for college students.

  “So, you admit it,” Gracie erupted, pointing one long bony finger at the young woman. “Not to mention confessing to being a part of one of those sororities.”

  “What’s wrong with sororities? I was in one,” Carla chuckled.

  “Those types of organizations are known for bullying.”

  What did she mean by bullying, Bert wondered. Could she mean some of the old hazing practices that were being phased out on most campuses? If anything, sororities were a great way to make friends and have an instant community the first time you moved from home. Bert had heard stories about it from Carla.

  “Do you gentlemen and ladies want a bully leading you this year?” she continued, hoping this new fact might sway them.

  There was silence for a second, and then a chuckle broke out from the choir. It was Janie, struggling to keep the giggles in.

  “What are you laughing at?” Gracie demanded to know.

  “Being a part of a sorority doesn’t make her a bully. Not to mention, there isn’t a thing wrong with enjoying the slots once in a while.”

  “But it’s gambling,” the old woman reminded them, shaking a finger in a shaming motion at Shay.

  “Gambling isn’t wrong, Gracie. I know you’ve enjoyed going to the casinos in your day,” Janie said flat out.

  “I have not,” Gracie insisted. Although, by the flustered manner she was wringing her hands, Bert deduced otherwise. It wasn’t all too out of the ordinary for elderly folks to get a discount trip to a casino where they gave you free tokens to spend on the slots. Many friends of Bert’s had done it through the years and they never spent any of their own money, just the coins they’d been given. It was a fun and cheap vacation for many people with a limited income.

  Clearly, Gracie had simply hoped someone would get offended by Shay’s enjoyment of the trip and suggest she take her place as choir director.

  “It’s only a problem if you get addicted, which I don’t think happens over one vacation,” Janie continued with a warming smile, attempting to be polite as possible while also defusing the situation.

  Pretty soon, other giggles began coming from other choir members. They quickly silenced themselves, feeling bad for their minor outburst.

  Gracie turned as red as a tomato.

  Bert couldn’t help it, but she felt bad for Gracie.

  Almost as if he sensed something was wrong, Pastor Chimney finally showed up behind Bert and Carla. “Excuse me, ladies,” he requested, pushing through the chapel door and marching down the aisle toward the stand. “What’s going on here?” Upon seeing Gracie, he smiled. “Ah, Mrs. Jones, you did decide to come help after all. I’m so glad.

  Gracie set her jaw, sniffing back tears. “No, this was a mistake. I should go.”

  “Gracie, are you sure? Shay said she’d love you to back her up,” Pastor Chimney offered.

  “No, this will not work, Pastor Chimney. I came to give it a try and I just won’t have it. If I can’t do it alone, I don’t want to do it at all.” Turning, she left the stand the way she came through the side door.

  Chapter Five

  “Well, that was crazy,” Carla chuckled as she accompanied Bert down to the kitchen in the basement of the church. Diffused gray light filtered into the small windows and a chill wind whispered through the cracks of the outside door.

  Setting the pies down on the kitchen counter, Bert sighed. “I feel bad for Gracie.”

  “It was a little like watching a soap opera,” Carla added, glancing at her wristwatch. “Oh, goodness. Is that the time?”

  Bert quickly checked her own watch. “It sure is. I guess that whole fiasco upstairs took longer than we expected.”

  “I have to get to the airport.”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll stop by and grab your things and I’ll drop you off, so you don’t have to worry about parking your car and paying for it.”

  Carla quickly wrapped Bert in a big hug. “Oh, thank you. You’re a life saver.”

  “I’m just glad to have gotten a little bit of time before you left for Christmas,” she admitted. “Now, let’s hurry up.”

  The sound of feet on the stairs drew their attention and the two women turned to see Pastor Chimney coming down behind them.

  “Pastor Chimney? Are you all right?” Bert wondered, seeing the pale and haggard expression upon his face.

  “Fine for now. Gracie is just a little hurt about being replaced this year,” he admitted, folding his hands.

  “A little?” Carla scoffed.

  “I can’t help but feel partially responsible.”

  “Oh, you shouldn’t. You can’t please everyone,” Carla said.

  “If you don’t mind, I need to talk to you,” Pastor Chimney said, pointing at Bert.

  “Oh, we’re in a hurry. I have to get Carla back downtown,” she responded, pointing toward the outside door. A concrete staircase led up to the parking lot from there.

  “I have a flight out to see my kids for Christmas,” Carla noted with a big excited smile.

  “Oh, okay. I see. Family comes first, of course,” he agreed. “Do you think you can make it back here sometime today?” he asked, turning his attention back on the pie baker.

  “Today?” Bert wondered.

  “Yes, there was an emergency favor I needed to ask you for. I’ll be here all day long, except for lunch. I’m going to a little Italian place with an old friend who is in town.”

  Bert twisted her lips in thought, trying to figure out her day ahead. It was such a busy time of year. She still had pies to make. They were having sales for Christmas which meant more last-minute customers coming in to purchase gifts. Not to mention she hadn’t done any shopping herself for either of her two employees . . . or for Harry.

  She was overwhelmed with things to do.

  Still, she had difficulty saying no to Pastor Chimney when it came to a church service. She didn’t know what the favor was, but she’d at least listen to what he said.

  “If you can’t make it today, I understand.”

  “No, no. It’s fine. I’ll just ask one of the girls to cover me for half an hour while I come back here.”r />
  “Great,” he beamed. “I’ll see you then.” Turning, he headed up the spiral stairs to the main floor.

  “You’re a popular lady,” Carla laughed.

  Bert smiled, rolling her eyes. “Come on. Let’s get you to the airport.”

  Thankfully, the drive to and from the airport was uneventful. They’d swung by Christmas in July where Carla had all her luggage waiting. Bert couldn’t help but note just how much her friend had packed. Nearly three bags worth of stuff were going with her on the plane—which seemed excessive and even a bit expensive considering the price of luggage these days.