“Yes, I’m just leaving the store. What about you? On your way to work?”
“Yeah,” she answers before shifting the focus back to me. “Why on earth were you at the store so early? It’s Friday. I thought you stopped working on Fridays.”
“I somehow managed to forget the pumpkin for the pie, but everyone else in Loving apparently didn’t,” I say, not bothering to start the car yet. “Went to both stores in town and they’re out.”
“I have some extra in the pantry. I’ll bring it Sunday.Ifyou make chicken and dumplins.” There’s a hint of a smile in her voice.
“Nothing like a little early morning subterfuge,” I say with a laugh. “I’d have made them for you even without the pumpkin.”
“And I would have given you the pumpkin even without the dumplins.”
“Why do you have pumpkin on hand, anyway? You don’t bake.”
“What?” Her voice sounds funny. Distracted. “Oh, I told Emily and Noah we could make some pumpkin chocolate chip cookies when they come over Tuesday.”
That explains it. Lindsey isn’t much of a baker, but she’ll do anything for her niece and nephew.
“I don’t want to take it if you’ve already got plans for it,” I say. “Especially if it’s for the kids.”
“Don’t worry about it, Mom. Trust me, they’ll be fine with just chocolate chip. In fact, they probably forgot they even asked for the pumpkin,” she says. “Listen, I just got to work, but I’m going Christmas shopping this weekend, and for the life of me, I cannot remember the name of that awful perfume Aunt Rose likes.”
“Secret Weapon.”
“False advertising,” she says with a laugh. “There’s nothingsecretabout it. That stuff is so strong it could trip a motion sensor.”
“That it could.” Itisa little loud, but to be fair, so is my sister.
“That’s what I’m getting her, so make sure you don’t get it too. God knows she doesn’t need more. She only just ran out from when we all had the same idea five years ago.”
“Noted. Let your brother and sister know too.”
“I will,” she says. “Talk to you later. Love you.”
“Love you too, sweetie,” I say before ending the call.
I buckle the seat belt and hold my foot to the brake, pressing the button to start the engine. The sense of impending doom I felt moments ago has waned now that the pumpkin pie crisis has been averted. Calm spreads over me like a blanket.
Our well-worn traditions will go on to survive another year. I swallow the lump swelling in the back of my throat as I pull through the empty parking space in front of me and head home.
3
LINDSEY
I reachinto the pantry for some microwave popcorn Friday night and spot the pumpkin I promised my mom lingering toward the back. It’s been there since the first Thanksgiving without my father, when my mother, still buried under the weight of her own grief, forgot the pumpkin for my dad’s favorite pie. It upset her so much that I went to the store the next day and stocked up on a couple of cans just in case this same situation should arise again. I buy some after the holiday rush every year so I’m always prepared.
I pull out the popcorn along with the cans of pumpkin and check their expiration date. Seeing they’re still good, I scoot them onto the counter.
“Doing some baking?” Kayla regards me with a wrinkled brow from where she’s sprawled on the kitchen floor as June Bug plays tug-of-war with her ponytail. She stopped by my place on the way home from her seven o’clock spin class to try and help me tame the tiny fluffy baby dragon in my care. “Let’s hope your skills have improved since that cookie cake you made me for my birthday last year.”
I snort. “Listen, I swear that recipe called for four cups of flour.”
“That thing could have been used to break a window or commit a felony. We’re lucky we still have our teeth.”
“It wasn’tthatbad.”
“It wasn’t that good either,” she teases.
“But it was made with love,” I say with a grin. “And to answer your question, no. I’m taking these to Mom on Sunday.”
