Hurricane Season by Phillips BJ

Author:Phillips, BJ [Phillips, BJ]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Desert Palm Press
Published: 2016-06-05T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-two

CARRIE OPENED THE DOOR just as Shawn reached out to hit the doorbell. “Hi, I saw you coming.”

“Hi yourself.” Shawn tried to not stare at the undone button on Carrie’s blouse, showing a bit more cleavage than usual. She made a point of looking right into Carrie’s rich brown eyes, but that just made it worse. She took a deep breath, which she could tell Carrie was mistaking for a yawn. She decided a yawn was a good cover, and pretended a little one, then apologized. “Sorry, been really busy lately.”

Carrie invited her to sit at the small kitchen table, where a tiny lit jar candle gave off just a hint of the fragrance of oranges.

“I figured as much when I hadn’t seen you for a while,” Carrie said. “I used to see you out there pretty much every day, but I haven’t seen you running in days. I hoped you didn’t get injured or something. Would you like some coffee with your pie?”

“Sure, love some.” Shawn sat at the table. “No, I didn’t hurt anything. I’ve just been busy. I need to get back out there running again especially after this pie. It looks wonderful.”

“It’s my grandmother’s recipe. She could whip up a meringue with a fork, of all things. She was a little bitty thing, but we didn’t cross her. She was strong. She was a wonderful woman and we loved her very much. You would’ve liked her…Every time I make that pie I think of her.”

“I think it’s wonderful that you have something that reminds you of her so much,” Shawn said. “You were very lucky you had her, and lucky again to get her pie recipe.”

“Believe me, I never forget how fortunate I was to have her around. To get the pie recipe, though, I had to stand right next to her and write down everything she did. She never measured a thing—just a pinch of this and a handful of that. I measured everything she put in it as she made it. It took twice as long, probably. She could practically make pies in her sleep.” Carrie placed a piece of the chocolate pie, on a small flowered china plate, in front of Shawn. “Now, this doesn’t taste exactly like my grandmother’s. We swore that she put her finger in it or something. Finally I decided it had to be just because it was her making it. Things always taste different when someone else makes them.”

Shawn took a bite. “Oh, my God!” She took another bite. “Mmm. This stuff is heaven. No wonder you spent all that time with your grandmother learning to make it.” She paused for a second or two. “Seriously, this has got to be the best chocolate pie I’ve ever had. And believe me, I don’t say that lightly.”

Carrie slowly ate her pie, savoring each bite. She smiled at the compliment. “Thanks. I don’t make it unless I’m giving it to someone, bringing it to work, or having company. Otherwise, I’d sit down and eat a whole pie all by myself.

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