by Rose Pressey
“You love it. Don’t tell me you aren’t a little excited at the prospect. You two would be perfect for each other. Movies and late night walks under the stars holding hands. A little smooching and…” I wiggled my brows.
“Stop it. Your eyebrows are going to fall off if you keep doing that.” Her cheeks blushed.
“Okay, I’m getting busy finding a new recipe.” I moved toward the kitchen.
“I heard he likes cherries.”
I turned around. Her face was still flush. “Is that right? And where did you hear that?”
“Through the grapevine.” She traced an invisible line on the table with her index finger.
“You’ve been checking up on him and haven’t told me? What’s wrong with you?”
“I haven’t been checking up on him, per se. Just asked a few people some questions, that’s all.” She studied her fingernails.
“But you don’t come to your best friend for a little help? I’m hurt.” I held my chest as if I’d been stabbed through the heart.
“You’re busy with other stuff. You don’t have time to worry about my love life.” She waved off my feigned hurt.
“I don’t have time? Mary Jane, you’re my best friend. I always have time for you. Don’t say such things. Now why don’t you help me find a recipe? Grab a few of those cookbooks.” I pointed toward the shelf across the room. “I’ve got some more in the back. I’ll go get them.”
I headed to the back room and collected a few of the dessert and breakfast cookbooks. I’d help Mary Jane find her happily-ever-after man. If I couldn’t help myself, I’d help her. Rallying around others was much more fun, anyway. Seeing a smile on Mary Jane’s face would make me happy.
When I returned, she’d sat at one of the tables. The sun shone through the window, casting a yellow glow over the area. Mary Jane whistled and swung her leg as she flipped through the pages, never looking up to notice me watching her. She was happy already just thinking about Sheriff Jasper. Wait until something really happened, she’d be over the moon. Mary Jane hadn’t been this excited since Ruby Hawk opened a nail and tanning salon across the street from her house.
“Here’s a few,” she said as I approached. “Cherries with lots of icing.” She pointed to the page.
“Sounds delicious. The more cherries, the better off we’ll be.” I set my books down and grabbed hers.
We settled on the cherry pie recipe. But not just any cherry pie, it was a new recipe—bigger and better. I decided to call it cherry crumble pie since I modified the ingredients from the original.
Earlier, I’d mixed together silky smooth flour with salt, butter, and water so I’d have dough waiting in the refrigerator for me when I needed it. As I placed my hands into the soft dough, I filled my mind with good thoughts. Having negative thoughts while preparing the crust wouldn’t help when I cast the spell. Grandma Imelda always said a loving heart made for heavenly cuisine. With one glide of the rolling pin, Rory’s smile popped into my head. Another slide across the dough, and Grandma Imelda’s sweet voice echoed through my mind. I rolled the pin again and the smell of my mother’s gardenia perfume filled my senses.
Once I finished with the rolling pin, I patted the crust down with my open palms. When I was sure my crust was smooth, I placed it into the pie dish, covering the glass as if I were covering a baby with a blanket. In the center of the pie, I’d added a little heart, made from extra crust and cut with a heart-shaped cookie cutter. This would be the ultimate love pie—the magic spell would come later. Proud of my work, I poured the filling into the crust. The smell of cherries filled the air around me as I dotted butter across them, then placed the top crust on. With a knife, I trimmed the top crust, then folded it under the bottom pastry.
I crimped the edges against the rim of the pie dish, making sure to leave a glimpse of the plate visible. I ran a clean cloth around the outer edge to wipe away any excess filling. With the finishing touch of egg brushed over the top, I popped my matchmaking creation in the oven.
I thought about the pie’s edges. When I baked a pie, I’d always been so careful with the sides; trying to make sure the filling never oozed over the boundaries of the pastry, making a mess. Without proper care, the contents would trickle down the sides and burn, but I was always confident that when I pulled the pastry out of the oven, it would be perfect. Why wasn’t I as careful with my life?
I ignored the edges of my life, taking for granted that everything would stay within the boundaries of my own pie crust. Did I believe my pie plate would expand, allowing the contents to go on forever? Never did I dream of the mess it would make once my life baked to a boil. I was now at that boiling point. The fillings of my life were seeping over the edges, and if I didn’t stop it soon, the mess would be so bad, it would be almost impossible to clean.
****
When I pulled the yummy goodness from the oven, Mary Jane wasted little time pinching off a forkful, testing it out for accuracy.
“He’ll love it.” I inhaled the scent of golden crust and warm cherries. The scent of cinnamon tickled my nose.
“I think he will.” Mary Jane smiled. “Now, how do we get him in here?”
“You leave that part to me. I have a plan.” I didn’t really, but I didn’t want her to be discouraged, she seemed so happy.
“Should I be afraid of this plan?” She sliced off a sliver of pie and dug her fork in for another bite. “You know I’ve gained ten pounds since working here?”
I scoffed. “I’ll have you know I’m a fantastic planner.”
“This is so good.” She gestured toward the pie with the fork.
“I’ll be back in time for the breakfast crowd. Put on your lipstick because I’m bringing one hunk of a sheriff back with me.”
“Oh.” She jumped up in her seat a little. “I’ll be ready.”
A few fluffy clouds dotted the sky and the sun shone, blanketing the area in brightness. I stepped out onto the sidewalk and headed toward the police station. I’d seen Sheriff Jasper’s cruiser parked in front of the building when I drove by this morning. My fingers were crossed he was still there. Now I had to come up with a way to get him back to Mystic Café without him catching on. He’d probably think I was flirting with him.
I made my way down the sidewalk, cutting across the church parking lot to avoid the hotel where I thought Kim might be staying. Only a few cars dotted the lot but luckily, I didn’t see her lime green VW Bug. I crossed back over to the corner of Summer Drive. I avoided the cracks in the pavement and enjoyed the flowers the Mystic Hollow Women’s Club had placed in various planters at the beginning of summer. Geraniums were my favorite.
The police station was housed in the courthouse, an imposing gothic style structure that loomed tall over town with its ornate stained glass windows, intricate archways, and bell tower. The puffy clouds hung so low that they almost appeared to touch the roof. Sheriff Jasper’s car was still there, parked out front in the same spot. As I neared the courthouse, I noticed a man leaning against the building.
When he spotted me looking his way, he approached. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“Um, walking.” I glanced over my shoulder to make sure he was talking to me.
He wore dirty pants that may have been a light shade of khaki at one point. His wrinkled blue and white plaid short-sleeved shirt was buttoned all the way to the top.
“I know you.” He wiggled his finger as he fell into step beside me. “You’re Imelda’s granddaughter, Elly. She told me about you. You came back to tend the café.” The smell of whiskey hung around him like the little dirt cloud hung around Pig-Pen. “Your grandmother’s a fine woman.”
“Well, thank you, I’m sure she appreciates that.”
“I may be a drunk, but I hear and see more in this town than anyone.” His lips twitched into an all-knowing smile.
I thought it an odd announcement and I wasn’t sure what his statement meant, but for someone drunk he seemed awfully sharp.
&nb
sp; The man inched closer. “Your grandmother had that book. It must have been something special.”
I stopped in my tracks. “What do you mean?”
He reached out and touched my arm with his rough, leather-like hand, then hiccupped. If there was any question whether or not he’d been drinking, he just answered it.
“She had that big ol’ book in the café. I asked every now and then, but she never would tell me what it was.” He smiled, displaying the gap where his front teeth used to be.
So maybe he didn’t know the true meaning of the book. “She keeps her recipes secret.” I chuckled, avoiding his gaze.
“I think there was more in there than recipes, but I don’t know what.”
“Nope. Just recipes.” I moved forward and he followed.
“Well, have a nice day, Elly. I think I’ll take a little nap. No rest for the wicked.” He chuckled.
“Do you live in the hotel?” I stopped and pointed toward the inconspicuous building.
“Sure do. It’s nice.”
I smiled. “It seems nice.”
He held out the bottle of whiskey. “Do you want a drink?” He wiped the top with the bottom of his shirt.
“Thanks, but I’m good.” I waved my hand.
He shrugged. “If you say so. No hair off my back.”
“My name’s Henry, by the way.” Henry leaned close and stuck out his hand.
I almost passed out from the whiskey on his breath.
I shook his hand. It scratched like sandpaper. “It was nice to meet you, Henry. Come in the café any time. Breakfast with hot coffee is on me.” Maybe there was a magic spell for sobriety? If there were though, I’d bet grandma had already tried it.
“That’s sweet of you, darlin’.”
He glanced over his shoulder, then stood a little taller. “Beware of that woman in the green car, she’s trouble.” His eyes widened, seeming to sober up a tad.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Henry had to be talking about Kim. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, and I thought maybe he’d drifted off to sleep. I reached out to touch him, but before my hand reached his arm, he snapped open his lids. “There are bad people in this town.” He lowered his voice, as if calming down and continued, “Of course, a lot of nice ones, too. Like you, beautiful lady.” His eyes remained half-shut.
“Thank you, Henry, but what do you mean by ‘bad’ people?” Grandma Imelda hadn’t mentioned anyone I should avoid. Sure, some people were nosy, but bad?
“The new ones. Strangers coming to this town and causing a ruckus.” He gestured with a tilt of his head toward the hotel.
Did he mean Kim? I’d thought she had lived here for a little while with Rory. But with small towns like Mystic Hollow, if you hadn’t lived here all your life, then you were considered a stranger indefinitely.
Henry turned around and shuffled back toward the hotel. I stared for a second, then continued on my way, contemplating as I walked up the steps of the building how Henry had arrived at this dark place in life. Maybe if I could get enough coffee in him, he’d sober up. I’d certainly give it a shot.
My stomach jumped with anticipation. What made me think I could play cupid? If I messed this up, Mary Jane may never forgive me. I pushed open the big door and walked into the station, a blast of cold air hitting me in the face. About five or six desks sat around the room. File cabinets were flush against the left wall. The smell of new plywood lingered in the air as if they’d recently remodeled. The walls were painted a soothing beige color, probably to ease the anxiety of anyone who entered.
Sheriff Jasper sat behind the desk right up front. “Hi, Elly, what can I do for you? Is anything wrong?” His brown uniform was crisp, the shirt starched to attention with shiny collar pins, and cuff links. His nametag and badge rested over his breast. He smiled, showcasing his white teeth. He had thick dark hair, and long, full lashes outlined his gorgeous brown eyes. No wonder Mary Jane had her eye on him.
Stacks of papers covered the top of his desk, exposing only small glimpses of wood. I picked out a piece of peppermint candy from the jar on the edge of his desk, attempting to appear casual.
“Oh no, nothing wrong. I was just walking by and thought maybe you’d like to stop in for some breakfast? I got coffee cake, doughnuts, pastry, omelets, oh, and cherry pie. I made a special recipe just this morning. I’m trying to drum up some business. I can use all the business I can get, you know how it is.” I popped the candy into my mouth and grinned.
Continuing my nonchalant act, I studied a few wanted posters covering the wall next to his desk. It made visions of a magical wanted poster with my face plastered on it pop into my head. Thank goodness there was no such thing, or I hoped there was no such thing. Was there?
“I hear that. We’re sure going to miss your grandmother around town. You say you got cherry? It’s my favorite. How did you know?” He slapped a few papers down on the desk and snapped me out of my trance. Shifting in his leather chair, he smiled, folded his hands together, and placed them in his lap.
“It is? I had no idea. Well, isn’t this your lucky day?”
“As much as I’d love to, I’m afraid I can’t come by, I’ve got too much work here.” He picked up a pen and flipped it between his fingers.
“Well, maybe next time.” I smiled and turned to head toward the door. I wouldn’t give up that easily, though. As I reached the door, I turned and said, “You know, I could have Mary Jane deliver you a piece. If you’d like? She has a few errands, anyway.”
His eyes lit up. “You’d do that?”
“Sure thing. Cherry pie, right?”
Now he’d want cherry pie delivered all the time. This plan could backfire on me if I wasn’t careful. Mary Jane would be making deliveries here all the time. I’d lose a waitress. Maybe I should have thought this through more. Oh well, too late now.
“I’d love cherry pie. Do you think I could get a cup of your coffee? We have some here.” He pointed to the tiny coffeemaker set up in the corner. “But it’s nothing like yours.”
“Sure, no problem. Coffee and cherry pie coming up. Mary Jane’ll be here with them soon.”
I hurried out the door like a kid with a secret to tell. I couldn’t wait to see the look on Mary Jane’s face. Sure, she’d be nervous, but she’d have to go. I hoped I didn’t have to push her all the way there. I hurried my steps and made it back to the café. Mary Jane was looking out the front door like a kid on Christmas Eve, waiting for Santa.
She opened the door and let me in. “Well, did you talk to him?”
“I did.” I nodded.
“So, is he coming?”
I smiled. “He wants cherry pie.”
“Oh.” She looked toward the door. “Will he be here soon?”
“Not exactly.”
She scrunched her face. “What does that mean?”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“I kind of told him you’d deliver it.” I stepped back in case she wanted to punch me.
“Oh no.” The color drained out of her face.
“It’ll be okay. Breathe.” I patted her on the back.
Her expression was somewhere between a grin and a grimace. She sputtered, “I don’t think I can do it.”
“You can do it. What's the big deal? It’s not like you haven’t talked to him before.”
“But he probably knows what we’re up to. Not the magic part, but the fixing up part.”
“He doesn’t know. How could he? I told him I happened to pass by and was trying to get more business. His eyes lit up when I told him you’d bring it back.”
“They did?” She stood a little straighter.
“Uh-huh.” I wiggled my eyebrows, proud of my matchmaking abilities.
“Don’t toot your own horn just yet,” she said.
I held my hands up. “I’m not, but…it does sound promising. Now get back there and let’s get this pie ready. The lipstick looks nice, by the way.”
She rubbed her lips together.
“You think? This shade’s not too dark?”
“No, it’s perfect. It looks really good on you and I’m sure Sheriff Jasper will be dying to kiss it right off.”
She blushed. “Oh, stop it.”
I sliced a piece of the pie, then took down the spell book and the spices. Casting the spell on the whole pie would have been easier, but I didn’t want to be overly ambitious. Heck, Mary Jane might decide she doesn’t like the guy, then I’d have wasted a whole pie. Besides, one slice should do the trick.
Pinching out a dash from each one of the spice jars, I sprinkled them on top and waited for the sparkle. I was getting the hang of this magic thing even if Tom and his magical associates didn’t think so. The familiar feeling radiated through my body, whizzing and swirling. The zing of energy ran through my whole body like tiny zaps of static electricity. The wind whipped above the pie, blowing my hair away from my face and propelling items around the pie onto the floor. The light show eased until it vanished just as suddenly as it had appeared. The wind departed leaving nothing but tranquil air, and the power inside my body faded, leaving that somewhat drained feeling that came after doing a spell.
Finishing the spell, I placed the slice of pie in a bag. I poured coffee into a cup, put on the lid, and rushed Mary Jane out the door.
“Go on, he’s waiting for you.”
A look of horror spread across her face.
“Everything’s fine. He’s not going to bite.” I placed my hands on my hips.
“That’s what I’m afraid of. I want some nibbling on my ear,” she deadpanned.
I laughed. “Well, with any luck, that’s what you’ll get.”
“How do I look?” She adjusted her clothes and repositioned her black Fedora.
I picked a piece off lint of her shoulder. “Fantastic. Remember, men can’t resist food. You know, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach or some such theory.”
She wiggled her hips. “Sure there’s food, but adding a little sway to my walk wouldn’t hurt, either.”