Lemon Pies and Little White Lies (25 page)

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Authors: Ellery Adams

Tags: #Mystery: Cozy - Magic - Georgia

BOOK: Lemon Pies and Little White Lies
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After thanking the enthusiastic newlyweds, the judges made their way to the South Carolina booth, where two bleached blondes tried to charm them with peach pie, dresses straight out of
Gone with the Wind
, and exaggerated drawls. Ella Mae was unimpressed by their pie, which was overcooked, as well as their presentation, which was thin on content. The Southern belles seemed to be relying on their pretty smiles and generous décolletage to win them a place among the finalists, but Ella Mae doubted that they’d be successful.

Besides, it would be hard for anyone to outshine Sugar, who was representing Florida. Entering Sugar’s booth was like walking into the middle of an orchard of three-dimensional lemon and lime trees. Glittery fruit hung from every bough, and a yellow disco ball dangled from a wire attached to a metal frame concealed behind the highest branches. As the ball spun, fragments of light danced over the trees, and the fruit sparkled and glowed.

Sugar’s Mother Nature costume was a grass-green dress trimmed with leaves, flowers, and benevolent insects. Her headdress was made of gold sunrays, and when she lifted her arms, plastic blue beads hanging from blue threads mimicked falling raindrops.

Her key lime pie was heavenly, and as the judges chewed
in silent appreciation, Sugar explained that her secret was that she only used juice from fresh-squeezed key limes.

“You can’t get that Florida sunshine in a bottle,” she said with a bright smile. “The same goes for lemons. And you need to pick them at the peak of their ripeness. I go into the orchard about an hour after dawn, when the fruit is covered in dew, and give it a good sniff. I can smell when it’s ready.” She gestured around the booth. “I focus on nature’s role in cooking. The best food contains fresh ingredients. The fewer steps from ground to table is what makes a great dish, and the same is true of pies.”

Ella Mae could tell that the judges had not only enjoyed both of Sugar’s pies, but they were also taken with her sincerity and dedication. With only three booths remaining, Ella Mae wondered if anyone could top Sugar’s Sunshine Lemon Pie. Still, she kept an open mind at the Maine and Georgia booths, but neither the blueberry nor the peanut butter pies could hold a candle to Sugar’s.

At last, the judges reached the final booth.

“I hoped you saved some room!” shouted a man in a red apple costume. He removed his brown stovepipe hat and swept it from left to right. “We’re the Bergers from the Big Apple. The Empire State produces more apples than any other state except for Washington.” Beckoning the judges inside, he introduced his daughter and baking partner. “This is Nora. She designed and painted our whole backdrop.”

Nora hobbled out from behind a table covered with a red-and-green checkered cloth and whispered a shy “Hello.” She wore overalls, a white T-shirt, and a baseball hat embroidered with the American flag. She leaned heavily on a pair of crutches, and Ella Mae noticed that her legs were slightly bent and the toe of her left shoe dragged along the ground when she walked.

“CP?” asked a female judge softly.

When Nora nodded, the judge smiled. “My son has CP too. He’s about your age, but he’s more into video games than art. This is incredible!” She pointed at Nora’s display, and the rest of the judges pressed forward for a better look.

Nora had painted the history of apple pie in America. Her timeline began with a motorized ship bearing colonists and apple trees across curled pipe cleaner waves. In the next scene, early settlers were harvesting fruit from the trees, which their pioneer descendants were baking into pies. The final scene showed a pie-eating contest followed by three rows of pies on display at a county fair. Naturally, the apple pie took the blue ribbon. As with the ship, certain pieces in each scene moved via a hidden motor. Apples dropped into baskets, the flames in an oven flickered, and a man in the pie-eating contest pushed a slice toward his mouth again and again. Behind the row of pies at the fair, a Ferris wheel turned in a steady rhythm.

“Don’t tell me you bake too,” said the female judge.

Nora’s father answered for her. “She sure does! When this kid isn’t at school, she helps out in the bakery. She’s always coming up with new recipes. Two of our three samples are Nora originals.”

“Stop bragging, Dad.” Nora acted embarrassed, but the mutual affection between father and daughter was apparent.

After Nora’s presentation on apple pies, her father passed out samples. “We have three pies for your tasting pleasure. The first is called America’s Bounty, and it’s your traditional double-crust apple pie. Next up is our Firecracker Apple Pie. The firecracker refers to the jalapeño pepper jelly, which gives this pie a little kick. The third sample is Nora’s latest invention. It’s called State Fair Apple Pie. This apple pie has a funnel-cake bottom crust and a topping of layered whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and a maraschino cherry.”

Stuffed as she was, Ella Mae looked forward to trying
Nora’s recipes. She found the sweet and spicy combination of the Firecracker Apple Pie most intriguing, and while the State Fair Pie was somewhat messy and a bit heavy for her taste, Ella Mae had to credit Nora for her inventiveness.

“You are a very talented young lady,” she told Nora. “I’m so glad you and your father came to this event. It wouldn’t have been complete without your apple pies.”

Having visited every Parade of Nations booth, the judges gratefully retired to an air-conditioned conference room in the library to deliberate.

“I heard you talking to that sweet girl on crutches,” a judge said to the woman who’d mentioned her son. “I hope you don’t mind my asking, but what is CP?”

“Cerebral palsy. My Josh was diagnosed when he was three.” The judge smiled. “He’s the light of my life. Like Nora, he doesn’t let his condition get in his way. And if I must confess, my vote for New York as one of the top three might be a teeny bit influenced by that plucky young woman.”

“Fair enough,” her colleague said.

It didn’t take long for the group to pick the top six bakers, but choosing the first-, second-, and third-place winners set off an animated debate. Ella Mae was as fervent as the rest of the judges in fighting for her favorites, and she relished every second of the discussion. It was sheer joy to be among people who were so devoted to food and who took their judging roles seriously.

Eventually, they came to a consensus, and Ella Mae thanked the judges for their time and presented them with small gifts of appreciation. She then made a call to the print shop and told them the names to add to the oversized cardboard checks. After that, she phoned the bank to have the real checks drawn up.

Ella Mae barely made it to The Charmed Pie Shoppe for
the start of tea service, but there were no customers waiting when she arrived. In fact, they only served one couple during the first hour of business.

“Can’t say that I’m surprised.” Reba said. “Everyone’s at the Parade of Nations. I know this borders on blasphemy, but folks might not want pie for days after that event.”

Ella Mae nodded. “You’re probably right. I’m so full from this morning that I can hardly look at a slice of pie.”

Reba jerked her thumb toward the back door. “You should go home. Take a long walk. Play with Chewie. Have a moment to yourself. Jenny and I will hold the fort. If we don’t get more customers, we’ll just close up shop.”

“You both deserve a break too.” Ella Mae untied her apron. “But I’m not going home. I’m driving to Atlanta to see Aunt Dee.”

Reba frowned. “You can’t go by yourself.”

“I was going to ask Aiden to come along. Not only is he a good bodyguard, but I also think he’s tired of being my delivery boy. It’s time we had a heart-to-heart.”

Aiden was more than happy to oblige. He even insisted on driving so Ella Mae could relax. As they headed south, they spoke of pleasant things. Aiden talked about the mischief he and Jenny had gotten into when they were children, and Ella Mae shared her own memories of growing up in Havenwood.

Eventually, Ella Mae shot Aiden a sideways glance, and said, “I know you love being around your sister, and you’ve been invaluable to me, but your true talent is wasted at The Charmed Pie Shoppe. Have you been looking for electrical work?”

Aiden chewed his lip. “Actually, Finn Mercer and I have been batting ideas around. We’ve been texting like teenage girls.”

“Really?” An image of Finn’s friendly face appeared in Ella Mae’s mind and she smiled. “What kind of ideas?”

“Adding lighting to his custom furniture installs for starters. I told him I could do that—no sweat—but that he shouldn’t stop there. Why not create a whole line of lighting? He’s into natural materials, so I suggested he include light fixtures that replicate natural sunlight. Lots of people respond to light therapy, and I could give each and every piece of lighting an extra jolt of energy. Of course, I couldn’t tell him about my magic touch, but I brought him a prototype I made a few months ago in your mom’s garage. There was a bunch of scrap metal in there, and she said I could do whatever I wanted with it, so I made a floor lamp.”

Aiden’s enthusiasm for the project was contagious. Before long, Ella Mae was coming up with ideas too. “How about a chandelier with flower-shaped bulbs? Or a shade made from beads that light up? Like a string of pearls.”

“Cool,” Aiden said. “We need girlie pieces. Only so many women will want faux antler wall sconces or cowhide desk lamps.” He eased off the highway and stopped at a traffic signal. “Would you be okay if I left the pie shop to work with Finn?”

“Absolutely.” She smiled at him. “I want you to do what makes you happy. Pie isn’t your passion. It’s mine. Though my deliveries are sure to fall off. Lots of ladies placed orders just so you’d knock on their doors.”

Aiden shrugged. “They’ll have to get used to it, because this man only cares about pleasing one lady in particular.”

“Does Suzy know about your plans?”

Aiden shook his head. “I wanted to talk to you first, but after I firm things up with Finn, I’ll take Suzy out to dinner and tell her all about it. I bet she’ll have tons of ideas. She’s the smartest person I’ve ever met.”

Ella Mae feared Aiden would spend the rest of the trip extolling Suzy’s finer qualities, but as he wasn’t familiar with Atlanta,
he was forced to listen to the GPS. At the burn center, Aiden dropped Ella Mae at the front door, and said, “Tell your aunt that Jenny and I send our best. Call me when you’re ready to leave and I’ll meet you here. I’m just going to park, get in touch with Finn, and give him the good news. I know he’s packing, but he won’t mind being interrupted by his new best bud.”

“Tell him I hope his move goes smoothly,” Ella Mae said, thanked Aiden, and entered the lobby. She was suddenly very nervous. Her discomfort grew as she rode the elevator to Dee’s floor. She didn’t know what she’d find when she got there. What would her aunt look like? Would she speak to her? Or would she avert her eyes and refuse to say a word?

When Ella Mae reached Aunt Dee’s room, she found the door ajar and heard a man’s voice coming from inside. The voice belonged to August Templeton.

“‘Where you tend a rose, my lad, a thistle cannot grow,’” he said, and Ella Mae felt a thrill of delight. August was reading from
The Secret Garden
, one of her all-time favorite books.

Tiptoeing into the room, she saw that August had pulled his chair close to Dee’s bed, and he had a hardcover spread open on his lap. He was showing Dee a colorful illustration when he spotted Ella Mae out of the corner of his eye.

“What a treat!” he exclaimed softly, set the book aside, and came forward to enfold her in a warm hug. August was a round man with a shiny pate and a pair of deep dimples on his round cheeks. He wore a seersucker suit, complete with a silk trifold handkerchief protruding from the breast pocket. August’s impeccable manners, quick wit, and fastidiousness reminded Ella Mae of Hercule Poirot.

“Hello, August. It’s wonderful to see you,” she said, and then added, “How is everything?”

August took Ella Mae’s hand and led her away from the
bed. “Your aunt is taking it easy after yesterday’s skin graft surgery, but speaking with you will be a balm to her spirit.” He gave Ella Mae’s shoulder an affectionate pat and then glanced at Dee, who was propped up on two pillows, looking both alert and tired at the same time. “Delia, I’m off to get tea and a few magazines. I’m sure you’ve been dying to learn all about the latest celebrity scandals and fashion faux pas.”

August left the room, and Ella Mae took his seat. Leaning over, she planted a feather-light kiss her aunt’s forehead. Without warning, her eyes filled with tears. “I’m so sorry.”

Dee gazed at her in confusion. “Why? You’re not responsible for what happened.”

“But I have yet to discover who set that fire.” When Dee didn’t respond, Ella Mae let the silence wash over her. She found it comforting after all the noise she’d been exposed to recently.

She touched a lock of her aunt’s long, auburn hair. “I hardly ever see your hair loose. You always wear it in a braid. It’s so beautiful, like sunlight hitting autumn leaves.”

“Gets in the way when I work, though.” Dee said. Her words were a mere whisper, and Ella Mae had the feeling that her aunt had been using speech sparingly. “And I will work again,” Dee added, a little louder this time. “My nerves weren’t damaged, and though these skin grafts look nasty, I was lucky. I survived, thanks to you and Joyce Mercer’s son.”

“Finn.” Ella Mae nodded. “He was amazing. And he’s taking care of the mother cat we rescued. All of your animals are doing well.”

“I’m sure I miss them more than they miss me.” Dee picked at a loose thread on her blanket. “August arranged to have a volunteer from a local shelter drop by before my surgery yesterday. She brought a pair of Siamese kittens for me to hold. They climbed around on my bed, purring and playing—it was the first time I’ve laughed since . . .”

Ella Mae wished she could think of something better to say, but there were no words of comfort to ease Dee’s emotional pain. “Would you tell me about him? About Kyran?”

Dee glanced at the wall. For a long moment, Ella Mae feared her aunt was shutting down, but then she sighed and began to speak.

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