Peach Pies and Alibis (4 page)

Circling the seller’s phone number, she finished her coffee. After breakfasting on
Greek yogurt and homemade granola, she slipped on a pair of flip-flops and whistled
to Chewy. Together, they walked under an arbor of her mother’s periwinkle climbing
roses, crossed the back lawn, and down the worn path to the lake’s edge.

When she wasn’t working, Ella Mae always started her day at the lake. She’d toss a
stick into the water for Chewy, wading up to her calves as he swam out again and again
to retrieve his quarry. A few mallards or Canadian geese would occasionally borrow
Partridge Hill’s small dock to preen their feathers, but for the most part it was
a solitary place. Ella Mae loved to sit in silence while the sun climbed over the
green- and blue-tinged mountains surrounding the lake. She’d stare at the houses dotting
the hillside on the opposite shore as the morning sun set their windows aglow with
a golden light.

This morning, however, the dock wasn’t empty. Ella
Mae’s mother stood at the very end, sprinkling rose petals over the surface of the
water as if she were preparing a church aisle for a bride.

“Feeding the fish?” Ella Mae asked, and her mother swung around, clearly startled
out of a reverie.

Adelaide LeFaye was a handsome woman in her late fifties. Tall and slim, she had long
black hair shot through with filaments of silver, and the regal face of a fairy-tale
queen. Her hazel eyes were intelligent and oftentimes wary. Ever since Ella Mae could
remember, there’d been a hardness to her mother’s demeanor. She kept herself slightly
removed from everyone, and though Ella Mae knew that her mother would sacrifice anything
for her family, she’d never been good at showing affection. Ella Mae could count on
her fingers how many times she’d seen her mother hug or kiss one of her three sisters.

As for her own childhood memories, Ella Mae had treasured the moments before sleep
when her beautiful mother, clad in a flowing nightgown the same shade as the moonlight,
would tiptoe into her room and bestow a butterfly-light kiss on her daughter’s cheek.
She’d whisper a poem or sing an old lullaby to her only child before saying, “I love
you.” Then, she’d drift away again, as ethereal as a dream.

“I am feeding the fish,” her mother replied with a small smile. “Japanese beetles
are hitchhiking on all of those petals. I’m out of the spray I make with cayenne and
jalapeño peppers and didn’t feel like mixing up another batch, so I’m going after
the pests in a slightly more brutal fashion.”

As Ella Mae watched, one of the beetles lost its grip on the rose petal and fell into
the water. Within seconds, a dark shape emerged from the depths and a white, toothless
mouth swallowed the insect so quickly that neither woman actually saw the fish. It
was more of an impression of a fish than a genuine sighting. Dozens and dozens of
petals drifted away from the dock, coaxed away from the shore by the current.
Everywhere Ella Mae looked, ripples and splashes surrounded the flowers.

“Apparently, the word’s spread among the fish population,” she said. “Snack time at
the Partridge Hill dock.”

Her mother smiled and reached down to greet Chewy, who loved her earthy scent and
the way her strong, elegant fingers scratched him behind the ears. “What are you up
to today?”

“I’m hoping to buy a car,” Ella Mae said. “An old mail Jeep, actually. Can I borrow
your Suburban to drive to Kennesaw? The sellers told me to swing by anytime.”

“Will you bring them a pie?” her mother asked.

Ella Mae hadn’t planned to, but it seemed like a good idea. She briefly wondered if
she should try to influence the seller’s willingness to come down in price, but then
hastily discarded the notion.
I will only use my powers for good,
she silently vowed, her mouth curving into a self-effacing grin as she thought about
how ridiculous she sounded, even to herself.

“I’ll bake them something,” she answered her mother. “I have plenty of fresh raspberries.
Peaches too. Yes, a peach and raspberry pie with a lattice crust. Thanks for the suggestion.”

Adelaide nodded and gazed out over the lake again. “Reba told me about yesterday’s
fiasco. Are you running a new ad in the paper?”

Irritated by Reba’s lack of discretion, Ella Mae sighed. “It’s on my to-do list. Buy
a car, hire an employee, get a haircut, stop and catch my breath.”

“No time for that,” her mother teased. “Summer’s almost over, but the tourists will
be back for leaf peeping and harvest festivals. And September’s a popular month for
weddings. I heard the Lake Havenwood Hotel has had every Saturday booked for over
a year. And though Le Bleu has its own pastry chef, I wouldn’t be surprised if a few
brides
found their way to your shop. Pies are the new cupcakes, you know.”

“Wedding pies? Stacked in a tier with a bride and groom stuck into the crust?” With
a laugh, Ella Mae threw Chewy’s stick onto the grass at the dock’s edge. He barked
once and leapt after it, his stubby tail wagging madly.

But her mother was serious. “Absolutely. You need to get to the more recent issues
of your stack of food magazines. Pies are all the rage. They’re even more popular
than cupcakes. Many modern brides are looking to have a simpler wedding—a casual,
intimate celebration. And others just don’t have enough money for a six- or seven-dollar
slice of cake.”

Nodding absently, Ella Mae thought of her own wedding. Sloan had spent an incredible
amount of money on her dress, the flowers, and a luxurious reception at The Ritz-Carlton
in New York’s Battery Park. Everything had been beautiful, but both the ceremony and
reception had passed by in a blur of flashbulbs and the smiling faces of acquaintances
and strangers. Ella Mae hadn’t told anyone from Havenwood that she was getting married
because she knew that her family disapproved of her choice of spouse. As a result,
she’d known almost none of the two hundred fifty guests attending what was supposed
to have been the most magical day of her life. There’d been a hollow place in Ella
Mae’s heart as she’d walked up the church aisle without holding on to anyone’s arm.
It was an emptiness that she hadn’t truly been aware of until she’d come back home
to the town of her childhood and to women who loved her.

Only then did she know what she’d been missing the whole time she’d lived in New York.
She missed being a part of a family, of belonging to others, of being tied to a group
that wanted only to see her happy and fulfilled.

“That’s what a wedding should be,” she quietly told her mother. “The people who matter
to the bride and groom
should celebrate with them. The day shouldn’t be about office politics or couture
gowns. It should be about family. It should be about promises and love.”

“I blame reality shows,” her mother remarked, examining her empty straw basket. “Between
the bridezillas and the Kardashians, every girl thinks she needs a diamond tiara and
a chocolate fountain in order to say ‘I do.’” She shrugged and turned away from the
water. “Well, I’m off to collect my next round of victims.”

Glancing at her watch, Ella Mae wished her mother luck in her war against the Japanese
beetles and returned to her carriage house to bake a peach and raspberry pie. She
did her best to keep her feelings neutral during the baking process, focusing on the
music on the radio’s country music station. The last thing she wanted to think about
was Sloan and how he still hadn’t mailed her cookbooks or special keepsakes. Instead,
he kept sending letters to August Templeton, Ella Mae’s attorney, begging her not
to proceed with the divorce.

At first, she’d hesitated, wanting to be absolutely sure that she was ready to call
it quits, but after the initial shock and the intense pain of her husband’s betrayal
had eased, Ella Mae realized that she didn’t miss Sloan. She missed being a part of
a couple, but she didn’t miss the man she’d been married to for seven years.

“‘Your cheatin’ heart will tell on you!’” Ella Mae sang along with Hank Williams and
was pleased to discover that the words didn’t affect her like they had at the beginning
of the summer. She was healing. She was starting to move on.

The scent of the sweet, warm peaches and raspberries coated in sugar, cinnamon, and
allspice baking in the oven wafted through the kitchen. Ella Mae sighed in contentment.

“I’ll be a divorcée in a few months,” she told Chewy. “But I still have a man around
the house, right, boy?”

Chewy barked, smiled at her, and sat up on his
haunches—a trick he’d learned at Canine to Five. Ella Mae gave him a treat and tidied
the kitchen.

As soon as the pie was cool enough to wrap in foil, Ella Mae loaded Chewy into her
mother’s Suburban and followed the directions she’d been given by the Jeep’s owner
to his Kennesaw farm. Because he mentioned the word farm, Ella Mae expected to drive
by cows meandering through grassy pastures or crops of summer corn. Instead, she arrived
at the address to find a sign with gilt lettering positioned to the left of the driveway.
It read, Sherman’s Artisan Cheeses.

A gravel road wound gently through the woods until the trees abruptly gave way to
a wide, sunny clearing. Ella Mae drove past a meadow populated by a handful of goats.
In another pen, a small flock of sheep chewed on sprigs of clover and watched her
approach with disinterest.

The Jeep was parked in front of a modest white clapboard house with green shutters.
A short distance away was a spacious tobacco barn that had been modernized with automatic
lift doors, a row of energy-proficient windows, and solar panels. Groups of daisies,
cosmos, and phlox had been planted around both the barn and the house. The bright
pink, purple, and white blooms gave the entire scene a picture postcard quality.

A man dressed in khaki overalls and a T-shirt came out of the barn just as Ella Mae
turned the Suburban’s engine off. Unlike most of the farmers Ella Mae did business
with, this man’s attire was exceptionally clean. She guessed he was in his early forties.
He waved and made his way over to her.

“Vaughn Sherman,” he said, offering his hand.

Shaking it, Ella Mae introduced herself. “Your place is beautiful. I had no idea there
was an artisan cheese maker so close to Havenwood.”

“We’ve been in business less than a year, but we’re loving every minute of it.”

Vaughn had the air of someone who’d found his calling. Ella Mae identified with his
aura of fulfillment. She’d felt the same way earlier when making the peach and raspberry
pie, which she now presented to him. “I bet I could use some of your products in my
new pie shop. Here’s a little taste of what I do.”

Lifting a corner of aluminum foil, Vaughn inhaled deeply. His eyes flew open wide.
“Don’t tell me! Is The Charmed Pie Shoppe your place?”

Smiling proudly, Ella Mae nodded.

“My wife and I were in last weekend. I hate to admit that I wasn’t too keen on eating
lunch there. A meal of pie and salad doesn’t seem very manly.” He puffed out his chest
and stuck his thumbs under the straps of his overalls. “Anyway, I ordered the caramelized
onion, mushroom, and bacon tart, and you could have asked me to put on a frilly dress
then and I would have done it gladly if it meant having another slice of that tart.”
He laughed and Ella Mae had to laugh with him.

“Did you order dessert?”

“I was too full, but Lynn was dying to try something. She warned me that she wasn’t
going to split it with me, but she was just bluffing. We’ve been together since high
school and she always shares her dessert with me.” After casting an affectionate glance
toward the barn, he continued. “I only stole a few bites of her chocolate peanut butter
pie, but it was enough to send me to heaven and back.”

Blushing with pleasure, Ella Mae thanked Vaughn and then gestured at the Jeep. “So
what’s her story?”

Vaughn walked to the Jeep and put his hand on the hood. “This gal is a treasure, to
be sure, but we’ve had such a good year that I promised Lynn a new SUV. This Jeep’s
got some miles on her, but I’m a stickler about neatness and maintenance, and she
runs like she just came off the assembly line.” He pulled out a key chain shaped like
a mouse nibbling on
a piece of cheese. “Take her for a spin. See how you feel in the driver’s seat.”

Ella Mae was about to walk around to the driver’s side when Vaughn stopped her. “This
used to be a mail truck, remember? The steering wheel is on the right-hand side.”
He opened what was usually the passenger door and bowed. “Your chariot, milady.”

It took Ella Mae a few seconds to acclimate herself to the unusual layout, but as
she motored down the driveway, the window cracked and her hair blowing in the late
summer breeze, her spirits rose. Unlike the Suburban’s ride, she could feel the road
more in the Jeep, but she didn’t think the amount of bounce would damage her pies.
Behind the front seats, there was plenty of storage room, and she envisioned lining
coolers along the sides and creating her own little food truck.

“Charmed Pies on the Go,” she said, trying out the name. “The Charmed Pie Wagon. Pies
on Wheels. The Pie Chariot.” She smiled at her own silliness, feeling comfortable
and carefree in the old mail Jeep. It was just what she’d been looking for. Pulling
over on a grassy shoulder speckled with buttercups, she examined the thick folder
Vaughn had left on the passenger seat. It was filled with receipts and a complete
record of the vehicle’s maintenance history, and Ella Mae could see that Vaughn had
taken excellent care of the Jeep.

By the time she returned to the Shermans’ farm, another car was parked alongside the
Suburban, and Vaughn was nowhere in sight.

Ella Mae heard laughter coming from inside the renovated tobacco barn, so she knocked
on the door and then, assuming the Shermans’ cheese shop was open to the public, entered.

Vaughn stood behind a counter. He was placing slices of cheese onto small plates while
the woman standing next to
him showed a young couple a photo album. Three more people wandered deeper in the
barn, presumably examining the Shermans’ cheese-making equipment.