Day 1 ― Wednesday
Word must have spread through town because I didn’t get to sit for too long. People started pouring through the door. I noticed they weren’t as concerned with ordering a piece of pie as they were with asking me questions. Where are you from? How long are you here? What did you do back home? Are you in a relationship? How long was your last relationship? Why do you think you aren’t in a relationship? What kind of experience do you have with making pies? What is your favorite pie? Will you be able to make pie just like Erma does? Where is Erma? When will she be back? It made the questioning by the Morning Pie Crew seem tame. I tried to deflect their questions by giving short answers or awkwardly changing the topic to the weather.
It didn’t take many people to fill the pie shop. They squished inside standing shoulder to shoulder and spilled outside onto the sidewalk. Somewhere in the blur of scooping pie and questions, I noticed the pie tins were getting empty. I glanced at the clock. It was only 1.30 p.m. I felt a trickle of sweat run down my back as I served the last piece of pie to a middle-aged man who wore a jersey with a picture of a cat holding a bat. He was asking me if I played softball and inviting me to join his team the Killer Kittens but all I could think was, how could this happen? What was I supposed to serve for the next four and a half hours? I thought a little guiltily about the pieces of pie I had stashed in the fridge. Not quite guilty enough to put them out though.
My hand shook a little as I wrote ‘Out of Pie’ on a piece of notebook paper and taped it to the front of the display case, cringing at the thought of people storming out in a fit of rage. Nobody stormed out. People just ordered coffee instead. Then they used the time when I was serving their coffee to ask me if I’d ever traveled out of the country, if my hair was naturally curly, and if I wanted children.
‘OK, all you nosy Nellies.’ Flora appeared in the middle of the crowd. Her quiet voice commanded attention. ‘Leave this poor girl alone. She’s got plenty to worry about without you all giving her the third degree.’
The crowd grumbled a little and began to shuffle out the door. I began to breathe a little easier once it was just me and Flora. She rolled her eyes at me.
‘Sorry, they mean well, but usually people just pass through town. We don’t have outsiders who come to stay like this,’ she said. ‘People have to come to stare. It’s like you’re the only clown at the carnival, and they expect you to do tricks for them.’ She shook her head. ‘If they start gathering again, you just holler for me, honey. You’re doing great here.’
I thanked her and she was gone. It was a relief to have quiet in the shop again.
I found a ‘Back in 10 minutes’ sign on a shelf by the front door. I hung it in front of the open sign and locked the door before running upstairs to check on Mitzy. She was curled up on my jacket. Hadn’t I left that hanging in the closet? I shooed her off it, and she moaned as she headed towards the door to be taken outside. I reluctantly found the plastic bags next to the dog leash. I detested the thought of picking up after her, but I was too much of a rule follower to risk defying the sheriff.
Once we were out on the patch of grass, I stood still, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. I tried to pretend I hadn’t seen Flora from her perch in the window of her bookshop.
‘You can run a pie shop,’ I repeated in my head over and over until I almost believed it.
I held my breath while I picked up after Mitzy. How many times could a dog go in one day? I threw it away and jumped back a little when a cat appeared from behind the dumpster. It had long shiny silver fur and huge bright blue eyes. Mitzy began to hop around like a little jumping bean, barking like crazy.
‘Shh, Mitzy,’ I scolded. ‘Go on, cat.’ I tried to shoo it away so I could get Mitzy inside. The cat listened about as well as Mitzy did and sat blocking the door, calmly blinking up at us.
‘You need to move,’ I said. I spoke slowly and loudly as though that would make the cat understand. Great, day one and I was talking to a cat.
‘Meow,’ it said back, but it didn’t budge.
Finally, I grabbed the still barking Mitzy and carried her inside. I had to slide through the door because the cat tried to follow us in. I set Mitzy down once we were safely inside and she gazed up at me, her tail wagging proudly.
Back upstairs, I made sure all my possessions were out of reach before going back to the pie shop. It was still early, so, very reluctantly, I put my secret pieces of pie in the display case. Well, all except the piece of mocha cream. I needed something to get me through the day.
Just after three, a woman in a tailored black business suit came in. She looked taken aback when she saw me.
‘Hi, what can I get for you today?’ I asked with a smile.
‘Where’s Erma?’ She glanced around suspiciously.
‘She had to go on a business trip, but she left some delicious pies. It’s been busy today, but there’re still a couple pieces left.’ I waved my arm across the bakery case.
She continued to eye me skeptically. ‘And who are you?’
‘I’m Erma’s niece, Susanna,’ I said with a big smile. She continued to stare at me. ‘And you are…’
‘Violet Flowerfield. When will Erma be back?’
‘I’m not sure.’ The smile on my face felt a little more forced now, but she didn’t seem to notice. ‘Is there anything I can help you with?’
‘I’m here for an inspection,’ she replied curtly.
Oy, a health inspector on top of everything else today? Based on the deep furrow in her brow, she was not happy about her last inspection. I didn’t know how that could be possible since the place had been so clean when I arrived. I was eager to help in any way that I could, including charming this grouchy health inspector so she’d get off Aunt Erma’s back.
‘Come on. I’ll show you the kitchen.’ I led her by the arm around the wall to the kitchen. The woman started to protest, but I was determined to help, so I gritted my teeth and gripped her arm a little tighter. ‘See, everything is spotlessly clean.’ I let go of her so I could present the kitchen with a flourish of my arms. ‘Don’t you have a clipboard or something so you can write all this down?’ I noticed her hands were empty, but a briefcase hung over her shoulder.
She surveyed the kitchen for a minute, and suddenly I saw it through her eyes. A trail of crumbs led to the piles of pie smeared plates that I’d stacked by the dishwasher. The island was a rainbow of assorted colored mugs, several of which were still partially full of cold coffee. In my haste to keep up with the earlier rush, I had spilled coffee grounds all over the counter and floor by the coffee pot. How did it get so bad back here without me realizing it?
With her eyebrow cocked, she turned back to me. ‘I need to speak with Erma,’ she said.
‘I wash my hands regularly,’ I said, holding them out for her to see.
‘This is really something I need to speak with Erma about,’ she said, straightening out her blazer.
Wow, she was really One Note Nancy. I slowly exhaled my frustration. ‘I’m wearing my hat!’ I pointed to the purple baseball cap on my head that had Erma’s Pie Shop stitched across it in gold, in one last ditch effort to persuade this woman to pass us.
She gazed at my head for a moment before meeting my eyes. ‘When can I see Erma?’
‘I’m sure she’ll be back in the next few days,’ I said, hoping my words were true. ‘I can let her know you stopped by.’
‘Fine.’ She turned to leave.
‘Does