by Kris Bryant
“I never really thought about it before. I usually just grab whatever’s at the store and go home and bake pies,” I say.
She rolls her eyes at me. “Would you like a recommendation?”
“Definitely. Tell me what you think is the best apple for the best pie.” My stomach wobbles when she smiles at me. Her eyes are always intense even though her smile lessens the sharpness of her features. I have this incredible urge to reach up and smooth the concentrated wrinkle on her brow. I get why she is intimidating on the ice.
She limps over to the different bins of apples. I take a moment to look around. This is such an adorable place. The store is built like a barn. Every corner has a cute display with haystacks, pumpkins, and everything autumn related. There are still several people in the store even though the doors close in fifteen minutes. Stone greets a few customers and high fives a little boy who apparently recognizes her from hockey. When she breaks free from them, she crooks her finger at me and I make my way to her. “Okay, for the best apple pie, you should mix the Cortland, Northern Spy, and Jonagold apples. All should add something different to the pie.”
“What about Red Delicious?” The disgusted look on her face makes me laugh. “Okay, apple-snob, what’s wrong with them?”
“Nothing as long as you don’t mind soggy, mushy pie. Red Delicious apples are for snacking on only. And that’s only if you are six years old. Trust me.” She grabs a cart and starts loading it up with entirely too many apples and I have to stop her.
“Hang on. I’m only going to make a pie or two,” I say.
“It takes just as much work to make one pie as it does five or six.” At least she stops adding apples to the cart.
“Peeling apples. Ugh.” She smiles at me and pushes me over to the wall display where there are several different kinds of apple peelers from manual ones that promise to peel the apple in thirty seconds just by cranking the handle, to the automatic kind that will core and peel the apple in five seconds. “Wait. This is cheating. Part of the whole process is sweating while peeling thirty pounds of apples over the kitchen sink, then spilling flour everywhere. The cleanup should take just as long as the prep work.”
“Who are you? You sound like my grandma. I thought you were my age. Congrats, though, for being beautiful at eighty.”
I smile and look away. She called me beautiful. I really need to leave the orchard because I’m starting to like being near her. I play it off. “Ha. Funny. I’m thirty-one and older than you so respect your elders.” I always say stupid things when I’m nervous. She must sense that I’m uncomfortable because she grabs one of the automatic peelers and wheels my cart to the front of the store, steering the conversation back to apple pie.
“I expect a pie, Doc. There are plenty of apples in your cart. Thanks for the ride home.” She tells the cashier to give me the family discount even though I protest.
“Stone, I can pay full price. You don’t have to give me any type of discount.” I feel like I’m taking advantage of her. She waves me off.
“It’s okay. You’re doing a lot for me, Hayley.” She doesn’t call me Doc so I know she’s serious. “This is my way of thanking you.”
I nod. “Well, I appreciate it and, even though I will be entirely self-conscious and nervous, I will bring you a pie.”
She leans close to me and I gasp at her nearness. “I’m sure I will love it.” She looks at my mouth for a few seconds, then makes eye contact with me. “See you tomorrow, Doc.” I exhale, not even realizing I’ve been holding my breath. She backs away slowly, her eyes never leaving mine. “Brian, can you please help Hayley out?” And just like that, our moment is gone. She winks at me and leaves the store. What just happened?
Chapter Seven
I make two trips to the car to get all of the apples and other ingredients up to the condo. Thankfully, we have an elevator and a wheeled cart for such an event. We are on the tenth floor and I can’t imagine having to haul thirty pounds of apples and flour up the stairs. Alison isn’t home yet. It’s seven fifteen. She usually gets home between eight and nine. Her late hours used to bother me, but now I actually enjoy the solitude most nights. I can move at my own pace and do what I want to do. I slip into comfortable clothes and tackle the apples. After fidgeting with the automatic peeler and finally getting it to work, I wonder how I ever manually peeled apples with a paring knife before. This is so much simpler and faster. I’m done with all of the apples in less than twenty minutes. I make up the recipe since I’m cooking with apples I’m not familiar with and pray everything tastes good. As long as the crusts are flaky and I douse them with enough sugar and cinnamon, the pies should taste great. I ignore the voice in the back of my head telling me to make the best pie ever for Stone. Not because I’m trying to impress her, but because it’s the nice thing to do since she gave me a steep discount. I have to wait on the dough so I throw some forbidden pasta on the stove and grate parmesan cheese for a quick dinner.
“Something smells delish.” Alison walks in and heads for the giant bowl of sliced apples on the counter.
“Don’t touch that. I’m baking pies.”
“What’s the occasion?” She tosses her messenger bag on the table and grabs a bottled water from the refrigerator.
“I just felt like it. One of my patients owns an orchard and I wanted to pick up some cider and apples to make pies.”
“A five-year-old owns an orchard?” I know she’s teasing, but I haven’t told her that a twenty-eight-year-old has been thrown my way.
“Well, Gloria gave me an adult patient who is recuperating from a fibula break and fractured ankle. Kind of a personal favor for her.” I downplay it like it’s no big deal even though my heart hammers inside of me. Guilt washes over me for no reason other than to serve as a reminder that I’ve had more than one lustful thought about Stone.
“What happened?” Here’s where it gets tricky. I don’t want Alison to know who it is. She has always been the jealous type. I don’t see what good will come of me telling her that my newest patient is a beautiful, famous athlete who also happens to be a single lesbian.
“A dropped cell phone which led to a car wreck.” I shrug to downplay it. I also don’t mention pronouns. “Do you want to take a pie or two to work? I have enough here if you do.” I deflect and hope she doesn’t continue to press me.
“Sure. How many are you taking?”
“I’m taking three. You can take the rest, or we can dole them out to people we know,” I say, thankful that she seems to be over my new patient.
“Jesus, how many are you making?” It’s ridiculous that I went a little crazy on the apples, but I blame Stone. She was very adamant about what kind of apples I should use. “Why are you smiling?” Busted again.
“I did get a little crazy, huh? Oh, well. I’m sure it will be easy enough to get rid of…” I pause to guess on my count. “Six. Six pies.” Alison shakes her head at me and heads into the living room to work. I don’t even ask her if she’s hungry. I know she probably grabbed a salad at the hospital’s cafeteria. I fix a plate of pasta and gobble it down before I start rolling the dough out. Twenty minutes later, I have four pies in the oven baking with two waiting in the wings. I’m pleased with them. I just hope they firm up like Stone promises they will. I should be spending time with Alison since she leaves tomorrow afternoon for her Chicago trip, but I’m still kind of upset about the whole deal. When I unloaded the car earlier, I found the box of invitations that I have yet to mail. That has to be my priority tomorrow.
“I’m going in early so that I can get some stuff done.” Alison heads over to me, pajamas already on, and kisses me softly on the lips. “Don’t stay up too late.” She puts her phone on the charger and heads back to the bedroom. I guess alone time isn’t going to happen for us tonight.
* * *
I place one of the pies in Elite’s break room for the employees who want a slice. The second one is for Gloria. The third one I keep in my office. I’ll give it to Sto
ne when we’re done with our session today. I tell myself that she gets the tastiest looking pie because of her apple snobbery, not because I’m trying to please her. I look at the clock and realize she’s probably already waiting for me. Tomorrow is our last day in the pediatrics wing. Next week, we will try water therapy, which means we’ll move to the main gymnasium where she will really be put to the test. I think she’s having a lot of fun with the kids.
“Hi, Doc.” Stone waves to me as I walk into the gym.
I can’t help but smile as I walk over to her. “Hi, Stone. How are you feeling?” My eyes travel down her bare legs. I try to ignore her muscular thighs, but fail miserably. I can’t even imagine the shape she is in when she is healthy. She’s lost a lot of muscle mass, but she’s still fit and gorgeous. Next week, when we get into the other gym, we will work on strengthening her thigh and calf muscles with grown-up size weights. I know she’s chomping at the bit to push herself even harder, but, true to her word, she’s done everything I asked her to do. She’s ahead of schedule and I’ll suggest getting on the ice late next week, assuming her progress remains steady.
“Good. I’m ready for more.” Her smile is lopsided and I feel a flutter inside of me. When she winks at me, I can’t help but laugh. I know she’s just innocently flirting with me, but it still makes me feel good. Her trail of broken hearts must be at least a mile long.
“Let’s get the massage out of the way, then stretch you. I’ve something special for later.” I groan when she gives me that wicked little grin of hers.
“Oh, yeah, Doc? Why do I like the sound of that?” She cocks her head at me. Flutter again.
“Well, actually, I have a pie for you, but you might not want it after today’s exercises.” We both ignore the pie remark even though it’s right there between us. We stretch her and I’m impressed again with her progress.
“What are you doing this weekend?” Stone asks.
“I’m headed to New York to see a play and eat really good food.”
She gives me her genuine Stone smile. “That sounds like fun. I love New York. And I love the theatre. What play are you going to see?”
“You love the theatre?” I stop my massage and feel her body relax.
“Why does that shock you? Do you really think I’m just a dumb jock?” She leans up on her elbows to see me better.
“It doesn’t shock me. I just don’t know a lot about you yet. I know hockey is your life and your family owns an orchard.” I resume the massage.
“You know, I did go to college and I’ve been known to attend a play or two. I even like museums and art and all that stuff. I do have other interests besides sports.”
I hold my hands up in defeat. “I’m sorry. That’s not fair of me. Okay, what do I know about Elizabeth Stone besides her love of hockey? I know she likes to cook and bake and that one day she will bake me the finest cookies known to man, woman, and child.”
Stone laughs and lies back down. “Baking is very calming. You might not know this about me, but I can be pretty intense. I cook as a way to release my negativity.”
“You must cook healthy because you are so fit. I like to cook with cream and real butter and I love carbs and I’m going to order anything I want this weekend regardless of the fat or calories,” I say.
“I say eat whatever you want. Are you and Alison going to New York as kind of a pre-honeymoon?” I can’t help but roll my eyes. Stone notices. “Or not.”
“It’s just me and my parents. Alison decided to go to a conference in Chicago instead.” I want to tell her more, but it’s personal. I have to stay professional, something I keep forgetting.
“What does Alison do for a living?”
“She’s an orthopedic surgeon at Regional.”
Stone nods her head. “That’s great. Both of you are doctors. Makes for fun dinner conversation and probably gives you a lot to talk about. How did you two meet?” I tell her about the fund-raiser coming up and how we met at it when Regional Hospital was one of the sponsors. “Tell me more about the fund-raiser.”
“We raise money to help grant wishes and dreams to the local Children’s Dream Maker organization.”
“Are all the children there terminal?” Stone’s voice is low and serious.
“Most of them are, but some defy the odds and pull though.” She smiles at that.
“Okay, finish your stretches. I’ll be right back.” Knowing how competitive Stone is, I’m going to end her session on a high note. I briefly talk to Matt and head over to the storage area. I walk back to Stone who thinks she is done for the day.
“Before you leave, I’m going to challenge you to a duel of sorts.”
She laughs. “Whose heart are we fighting for, Doc? I’m pretty sure yours is taken.”
That makes my body warm. “Cute, but not that kind of duel. You and Ethan are going to pick up marbles with your feet. Sounds easy, huh?” I wave Ethan and Matt over to the mat. Ethan, a bulky eleven-year-old football player, broke his ankle while riding his bike.
“Are you kidding?” she asks.
I wink at her and drop several marbles in front of her and Ethan. “First one to collect five wins. One, two, three, go!” Ethan grabs his first one with ease. Stone struggles to get her foot over the marble.
“No fair. He has long possum toes. Like hands. Is this even fair?” Ethan laughs at her comparison. “Are your parents humans or raccoons?” Stone finally grabs her first marble. She and Ethan are tied.
“Your feet are bigger,” he says, grabbing his third marble. He showboats by lifting up his foot and showing Stone. I love that they are both smiling and working hard. Stone is having difficulty with this task, but this is her first time. It has to be frustrating. She starts to work up a sweat again. She ties him after only a few seconds.
“Stone, Ethan only has one more marble left,” I say as he nabs the fourth one. Stone growls at both of us. Ethan laughs. “Ethan, Stone just tied you. This is it. Both of you have one more marble left. Who’s going to win?” I watch as Stone looks at Ethan out of the corner of her eye. Her foot is over the marble. She is letting him win. I almost hug her until I remember that’s not a good idea.
“I won! I won!” Ethan fist pumps the air, high-fiving all of us. He also shakes Stone’s hand and congratulates her on a job well done. Nice manners. Stone acts sad, but nods her head when he tells her she did a good job. We watch him leave the room.
“That was really nice of you,” I say.
“I don’t know what you are talking about. And this?” She points to the marbles and leans closer to me to whisper. “This is fucking hard.”
I laugh. “I noticed you worked up quite the sweat there.” She wipes her brow.
“I sweat at everything I do. Ethan didn’t even sweat at all.”
“He has yet to hit puberty. Come on. Let’s head to my office. I want to give you the pie.” She wags her eyebrows at me. “Leave your brace off.”
“That’s what I’m talking about, Doc.” I lift my eyebrow at her. “Pie,” she says.
I shake my head at her and don’t even slow down for her to catch up to me. “Hop up on the table.” Stone sits down and leans her crutch against the wall. “I forgot to check your incision to see if it’s healed enough for what I want to do next week.” She jerks slightly when I run my fingertips over the incision. “Sorry. Are my hands cold?”
“No. It’s the touch thing. It still feels really sensitive. So what’s going on? I’m not getting it too wet during showers. I’ve been careful. Patting it dry, wrapping it well. All the right things.”
“Some sensitivity is normal. There’s nothing to worry about.” I examine the incision. The cut is pink but slender. “Next week, I want to take you and another patient in the pool. Can you get here earlier on Monday and Tuesday so we can give it a try?”
“Sure. What should I wear?”
I feel my pulse quicken. I’ve seen her in shorts and a T-shirt and she looks great covered up. The thought of losing half
of the material makes my mouth turn dry. I didn’t think about seeing her in anything less. It’s too late to rethink this. Besides, this is the best treatment option for her. “Just a one piece or practical two piece.” I hand her the pie carrier and her face lights up.
“Oh, yum. Dinner,” she says.
“Here, let me carry it for you.” I reach for it again, but she stops me.
“No, I’ve got this, Doc. Thank you so much. I’ll give you a full report next week.” I hold the side door open for her and watch as she carefully hobbles to her ride, the pie clutched close. Now I’m nervous. I tasted one of the pies last night and loved everything about it. I hope the one I gave her turns out to be just as fantastic.
Chapter Eight
I love the excitement of being in the big city. Alison is crazy to pick a convention over being in New York. My parents and I just had lunch at Alexander’s. They are ready for a nap and I’m ready to shop. I’m going to have fun even without Alison. I’m pissed that I haven’t heard from her. I know that she gets busy and forgets time when she’s at a convention, but who doesn’t call their fiancée when they land or reach their destination? I sent her a message when we got to the hotel. She told me to have fun. That was the last I heard from her.
I round the corner and plow into a woman. She grabs me to steady herself, which causes me to spill coffee all over myself. “I’m so sorry,” I say. She looks at me, her blue eyes remind me of Stone’s. She’s tall, attractive, and I take a liking to her instantly.
“No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. Are you okay?”
I notice that we are still clutching one another. “I’m fine, thank you.” I’m ignoring the warm liquid that is seeping into the sleeve of my shirt. Thankfully, my clothes are dark so the stain won’t show. I pick up my cup that has now been crushed by a few people on the sidewalk.