“I think it’s a little late to admit I can’t bake pies, don’t you?”
“No, honey. I think now’s the perfect time to admit it.”
“But he’s going to a lot of trouble to make dinner for Pansie and me. What do I serve for dessert?”
“You got Blue Bell?”
Sessa went into the pantry and opened the freezer. “Several cartons. Why?”
“There’s your solution,” Coco said. “Just toss a couple of them into a container and throw them into the freezer. Your fellow won’t know the difference between Blue Bell and homemade.”
“I cannot pass off Blue Bell Ice Cream as my own. This is Texas. It’s just not done.”
Coco laughed. “And yet you were planning on passing off someone else’s pie as yours? Really, Sessa. You need to get your priorities straight.”
She turned to lean against the cabinet. “Oh, Coco, I am hopeless.”
“No, you’re not.” She paused. “You’re infatuated.”
Coco went on, but Sessa’s ears must’ve stopped working, because all she could hear was the echo of Coco’s word. Infatuated.
Was she?
Who wouldn’t be? Trey was handsome and kind, but beneath the surface, he was so much more. He understood her conflicting feelings about Skye. They both grieved Ross.
Before, the realization of the depth of her feelings might’ve scared her, but with him here, feeling the same depth of emotion, somehow she felt … hope. Anticipation to see where this thing could take them.
Coco was still talking in her ear. “… here’s what we’re going to do. Carly is always making those fancy pies. I’m going to call her and see if she’s started her baking for book club next week.”
“She’s always on top of it when it’s at her house.”
“If she’s got something made and in the freezer, I’ll see if I can’t convince her to let you have it.” Again she paused. “You know I’ll have to tell her why.”
“Gwammy,” Pansie called. “I want a juice box.”
“After what Trey did for her and Jared, I don’t think she’ll mind feeding him.”
“Probably not,” Coco agreed, “although she won’t be getting the credit, will she?”
Sessa put the phone on speaker as she reached into the fridge for a juice box for Pansie. “I should tell him.”
“Only if he asks. Now get on out there and make nice while I do my magic. I’ll stop by and leave the pie in the mailbox then I’ll text you and let you know it’s there.”
“You’re a genius. I owe you, big time.”
Sessa put on her most innocent face and went back outside, once again with Pansie trailing a step behind. “Okay, all set for dessert. What can I do out here?”
“First you can tell me what kind of pie we’re having.” He paused to smile. “I do like homemade pie.”
“Well,” she said slowly, as she wrestled her conscience.
“We’re having box pie,” Pansie said with a grin.
Trey knelt down to be eye level with the little girl. “And how do you know that?”
“Auntie Coco does magic and leaves pies in the box.” Pansie tugged at her hand. “She said so, didn’t she, Gwammy?”
There had to be some truth in the little girl’s statement or Sessa wouldn’t look so red-faced. However, Trey had learned a long time ago not to ponder too hard on anything a woman said, whether she was 3 or 30.
Besides, Sessa’s embarrassment was adorable. And she managed to look gorgeous even with that flush of crimson coloring her cheeks.
Instead of asking, he put both females to work, and just about the time the rain started in earnest, it was time to eat. They gathered mismatched chairs around a battered farm table under the porch’s tin roof and spread out their feast. The softly falling rain creating its own symphony against the roof.
The steaks were a hit with Sessa, but little Pansie was more interested in trying to eat the corn on the cob. She wore more of the butter and corn than she consumed, but it was great fun watching her make the attempt.
Finally he pushed back from the table and surveyed the damage. While he’d managed to finish off two rib-eyes, Sessa had taken the smallest one and shared it with Pansie. Now the little girl was happily drawing on a piece of blue construction paper and Sessa looked plain nervous.
“I’ve been so busy talking about the Smithsonian horses that I haven’t even asked about you, Trey.” She paused and seemed to be assessing him. “Is there an update on your job at the hospital?”
“I’m going to turn it down.” There was much more to it than that, but ultimately the end result was he would walk away from his career in Houston without caring to look back. And he’d never felt better about a decision.
“Oh?”
He could tell she didn’t know what to say, so he decided to help her. “I’m going into private practice. At this point in my life, I would rather be spending my time helping people on a more personal basis. When I did surgery, I rarely got to know my patients.”
“So you’re thinking of slowing down?”
He shrugged. “As slow as a doctor’s pace can be, but yes. I would like that very much.”
They shared a smile.
“Well,” he said slowly, “I guess it’s time for pie.”
“Pie.” Her eyes went wide then, quick as that, she shed her expression and put on a smile. “Yes, let me just go get that pie.”
“Out of the box,” Pansie said. “From Coco.”
Trey watched the exchange between his two hostesses with amusement. Something was going on here, and it appeared Pansie knew more than Sessa wanted her to.
Sessa allowed her gaze to linger on the little girl and then shook her head. “Would you mind keeping an eye on her, Trey?”
He nodded. “Absolutely. I’m just going to let her tell me some stories while you’re getting that pie.”
Sessa stepped away, moving toward the back door, though he didn’t miss the look she sent over her shoulder or the lip she held between her teeth.
“Say, Pansie.” He leaned down toward the tot. “Can you tell Uncle Trey about how you and Grammy made pie today?”
He could tell she wasn’t going to answer. The set of her jaw and the way her attention was clearly on her work told Trey he could say anything but the little girl would hear none of it.
“I bet you like making pie, don’t you?”
Still nothing from Pansie, but out of the corner of his eye, he watched Sessa linger in the doorway. She might be surveying some dust on the doorframe, but he knew good and well that she was feeling guilty about something and hoping that little girl didn’t tell on her.
Finally, Sessa disappeared inside.
He caught Pansie studying him and grinned. Maybe she had been listening.
“What do you figure she’s doing in there?” he asked her.
“Going to the mailbox,” the girl said matter-of-factly.
Oh, this was going to be good. “Why’s that?”
She shrugged. “’Cause Coco said to.”
“How about we go see what Coco left in the mailbox?” This was going to be fun even if Sessa wouldn’t appreciate it. Trey rose and motioned for Pansie to follow, pressing his index finger to his lips.
Pansie grinned and copied his gesture and then tiptoed off the porch to follow him around the side of the house. As they passed the kitchen window, Trey ducked so that Sessa, who seemed to be pulling plates out of the cabinet, wouldn’t see them. Again Pansie mimicked him although at her size there was no way she could be seen from the window.
Getting from the side of the house to the mailbox without being spotted was going to take some doing. He paused to lean down and whisper to Pansie. “You and I are going on an adventure to the mailbox. Follow right behind me and be really quiet, okay?”
“Okay Uncle Trey! Let’s go!” she said loud enough that Sessa surely heard.
“Shhh ….” He crouched down and then took off briskly walking, stopping only
when he knew he was hidden behind his truck. True to her word, Pansie kept right behind him. Another sprint to find cover behind an overgrown azalea bush and then they were at the mailbox.
“Okay, Pansie,” he said to his co-conspirator. “Let’s see what Coco left in the mailbox.”
“I want to open it!” she demanded.
He loved little kids, though he rarely spent time with them. Pansie’s honesty and her wide smile melted his heart. “All right. You can open it, but Uncle Trey’s going to have to lift you up so you can reach.”
After hefting the tiny thing up to the mailbox, he watched her fumble with the latch and then open it. “What’s in there?”
“Coco’s pie,” she said as she wriggled out of his arms. “Told you.”
He looked inside and sure enough, there was a pie. And judging from the temperature inside the mailbox, it was still warm.
“Well, how about that.” He looked down at Pansie. “Now it’s time for the next adventure. Are you ready?”
“Yeah,” she said with an enthusiasm that melted his heart. This little girl was wiggling her way into his affections almost as quickly as her grandmother. “Where we going now, Uncle Trey?”
“Oh, well, this is going to be extra hard.” He knelt in front of her. “See you and I, we’re going to take Coco’s pie and we’re going to surprise Grammy by bringing it to the table for her. What do you think about that?”
“Yeah,” she said again. “Can I carry it?”
“Well honey, I think Uncle Trey ought to carry it.” When she stuck her lower lip out as if to protest, he had to think fast. “See, carrying the pie, that’s not the important job. The important job is being the leader. Now, I could be the leader if you wanted to carry this pie, but then you’d miss all the fun.”
“I want the fun,” she demanded.
“Okay then. Here’s what we’re going to do. I want you to run fast as you can to that spot behind the azalea bush where we were hiding a minute ago. Can you do that?” When she nodded, he continued. “When you get there, you motion for me to follow you.” He showed her how to wave him forward. “Then I’ll come over there. Ready?”
Before he could say go, off she went. Thankfully, Sessa was nowhere near the window, because there was no precision or planning to their return to the table. With him trying not to drop the pie and Pansie just running as fast as she could, they would have been pitifully easy to spot.
Just as they rounded the corner of the house, Trey heard the front door open and close. “Hurry.” He cradled the pie with one hand and herded the little girl toward the porch with the other.
“Okay now, Pansie,” he said as he settled back onto the chair where he’d been sitting during the meal. “Now we’re going to play pretend. You color a picture of this pie, and I’m going to hide it.”
“Why are we doing that?”
He grinned. “It’s part of the surprise.”
“We’re surprising Gwammy!” Her brown eyes widened. “Yay!”
“Okay, you start drawing that pie.” Once the girl was too involved in her work to notice, he slid the pie toward him and hid it on the seat of the chair to his right. A few minutes later, Sessa walked out looking particularly worried.
“Welcome back,” Trey said. “We missed you, didn’t we Pansie?”
She ignored him and continued to draw. He shrugged in Sessa’s direction and motioned for her to sit.
“No, I can’t,” she said. “I’m still …” A phone rang inside. “Still working on the pie. Will you excuse me a minute?”
She hurried inside, and Trey had to contain his laughter as snatches of Sessa’s frantic conversation drifted toward him. “No, I checked. Gone. Yes, I’m sure.”
He switched his attention to Pansie. The dark-haired darling was oblivious to her grandmother’s distress as she put the finishing touches on an interesting looking piece of art. He could see that the circle was probably the pie, but the rest of the design—from the dashes of yellow to what looked like a jar and a red hat—baffled him.
“So, change of plans,” Sessa said as she came through the door with a container of Blue Bell Homemade Vanilla ice cream, a bowl of strawberries, and a smile that was pretty but probably not sincere.
“Oh,” he said innocently. “Trouble with the pie?”
“About that pie.” She set the ice cream and strawberries on the table and turned to head for the door again. “It’s a funny story, actually. But let me go get the bowls and spoons and then I’ll tell you all about it.”
“Can’t wait to hear it,” Trey called as she disappeared inside. “How’s that drawing coming, Pansie?” She held it up for him. “Oh, that’s nice. Now fold it in half so Grammy can open it like a present when she comes back out.”
Pansie complied then aimed a broad grin in his direction. “I like adventures, Uncle Trey.”
“Me too.” Life with these two would be a constant adventure, one he happily considered. He heard Sessa’s footsteps approach. “Now remember. Don’t show her the drawing until I tell you to, okay? That’s part of the adventure.”
She nodded.
Sessa stepped out onto the porch and deposited three bowls and three spoons on the table. “Who wants strawberries and ice cream?”
“I want pie,” Pansie demanded. “But ice cream too. And strawberries.”
Trey shrugged. “She wants pie. Too bad that didn’t work out.” He let out a long breath. “What was that funny story about the pie you were going to tell us?”
Her smile wavered, and he wondered if he’d done the right thing in playing this joke on her. “Well, see—”
“Sorry to interrupt so early into your story,” Trey said. “But what kind of pie was it exactly?”
“Kind of pie?” she echoed as if buying time. “Well, it was … you know, a pie.”
“Not very descriptive, but go on.”
She nodded. “Yes, well, see I have been a member of the Pies, Books & Jesus Book Club for years. Whoever hosts that month makes four pies.”
“Yes, Jared told me about it. He was rattling on about it the night their baby was born.”
“Well, anyway, I have a confession to make.” She paused to look at Pansie. “See, I’m a good cook. Just ask anyone. I can make just about anything. But …”
“You can’t make pies?”
Her face fell. “How did you know?”
“I didn’t.” He nodded to Pansie. “Give Grammy your present.” Trey returned his attention to Sessa. “You can’t make pies but your granddaughter can.”
The little girl leaned forward to watch Sessa unfold the paper. “See Gwammy, it’s pie with lightning bugs.”
“Why, yes it is,” she said with a genuine smile. “And what’s this?”
“That’s Daddy’s hat.” Pansie turned to Trey. “It’s on the high shelf in my room, so I can’t touch it ‘cause I’m not big enough yet. It’s for somedays.”
Sessa’s eyes softened, and Trey knew the little girl had said something that touched her deeply. “Waiting for somedays is important,” Sessa said. “But don’t ever give up on someday coming, sweetheart.”
Oblivious to her grandmother’s change in mood, Pansie giggled as a few weak rays of sunshine peeked through the clouds. “Uncle Trey, your turn.”
“Your turn for what?” Sessa asked him.
“For the surprise,” Pansie said. “We went on an adventure, didn’t we, Uncle Trey?”
“We sure did.”
“We had jobs, and I was the leader,” she said, nodding. “That’s important.”
“Yes it is.” Sessa shifted her attention to Trey, her eyes narrowing. “And what was your job?”
He couldn’t contain his grin as he reached under the table. As much fun as he was having, it was time to give poor Sessa a break. And he really wanted to taste that pie.
“Trey?” she said.
“He carried the pie!” Pansie exclaimed and then clasped her hands over her mouth. “Oops, that was the surprise.�
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Trey slid the pie out from its hiding place and set it on the table in front of her. “Look what Pansie and I found in the mailbox.”
Sessa turned the prettiest shade of pink and then laughed. Trey joined her, as did Pansie, although he doubted whether the little girl had any idea what was so funny.
“So, Sessa,” he said. “What kind of pie is it?”
She swatted his arm with her napkin and reached for the knife. “I have no idea. I told Coco I’d take whatever Carly had.”
“Pansie.” He looked past Sessa to the little girl now busy coloring on another page of blue paper. “Time for another adventure.” She sat up at attention, her grin firmly in place.
“What’re we doing now, Uncle Trey?”
“We’re having pie.” A few fat splatters of raindrops indicated the next round of showers had arrived. “And then maybe we’ll go have that dance in the rain. What do you think?”
“Yay!”
As it turned out, the pie was some variation of blueberry, possibly with goat cheese and rosemary, according to Sessa’s description. It was hard to tell, and yet the flavors blended to fill the flakiest crust he’d eaten in a long time.
While Sessa dabbed daintily at the corner of her lips—lips he intended to kiss again very soon, if she’d let him—Pansie seemed to be wearing a good portion of her slice of pie on her face. A trail of blue splotches decorated the front of her pink dress and covered her hands.
“Oh goodness, Pansie,” Sessa said. “You’ve made a mess of yourself. Sit right there and I’ll go get a wet washcloth.”
As soon as Sessa disappeared inside, he felt the void of her absence. Trey gestured to Pansie. “Come on,” he told her. “Let’s have another adventure.”
She climbed down from her seat, leaving a smear of blueberry on the edge of the table and down the back of the chair. “Where are we going?”
He took her hand and felt a blueberry mush smash against his palm. Oh well. It was worth it to hold onto the little girl who held Sessa’s heart.
“We are going out in the rain. It’s time to dance, Pansie Chambers.”
Sessa returned to find a grown man and a little girl carrying on like fools in the rain. Not just dancing, but twisting, turning and jumping. Pansie’s blueberry-stained dress stuck to her, and Trey’s pearl snap shirt was drenched to his skin.
Firefly Summer Page 18