Ada Lou’s wrinkles deepened around her mouth as she clamped it shut. “Deal. But because you brought it up in the first place, I’m not going to share my lemon pie with you.”
“I can always take a pan of biscuits to Jackson instead of bringing them to you.” Nancy shook a finger at her.
“I can always put my honey on a bagel that I make in the toaster,” Ada Lou countered.
The aroma of coffee and something that smelled like pumpkin pie swept over me the moment we were inside. I could have easily whiled away a whole day in the store and spent every dollar on my debit card.
“I’ll have two cups of the strongest coffee you have and a lemon pie,” Ada Lou told the young barista.
“Are you treating me to a coffee, or are they both for you?” Nancy asked.
Ada Lou eyes twinkled even though she frowned. “I have to keep you awake. I’m not ready to meet my maker just yet.”
“We agreed not to argue,” Nancy reminded her.
“I’ll take a salted caramel latte and a pumpkin pie,” I said.
“Have that ready in a jiffy,” the barista said with a smile.
I hated to leave the store, but like Ada Lou said, it would be dark in a little while, and the crooked roads could be dangerous to those of us who weren’t used to driving on them. When we were back at the Old Apple Barn, they got into Nancy’s small compact car and waved goodbye to me. I set my pie on the floorboard behind the driver’s seat and put my cup of coffee in the cupholder on the console.
“Well, that was an adventure,” I said as I backed out of the space and told the GPS to take me back to the Tumbleweed.
“I do not find a city named Tumbleweed,” she said in her usual tinny voice.
“Take me to Dell City,” I said.
Once I was back on the road going south, I didn’t pay any attention to her directions and let my mind wander. I thought about helping Mama make pumpkin pies to take to Frank’s Thanksgiving family gatherings. She’d let me use a tiny metal cookie cutter to make little maple leaves out of the leftover dough to scatter around the edge. When there was more than we needed, she would let me sprinkle them with sugar and cinnamon and bake them like cookies.
“I miss you, Mama,” I whispered and realized that I was back on flat land with a gorgeous sunset all around me. Shades of orange, purple, pink, and yellow filled the sky. The only way I could describe it was that, had it been music, it would have been like a surround sound on a stereo coming at me from every direction. I imagined that I was sitting on a small island in the middle of the ocean, and someone had poured several buckets of paint from out there in the universe into the sky.
The GPS lady angered me when she spoke and broke the magic: “You have a message from Jackson Armstrong. Shall I read it?”
“Yes!” I snapped, and half expected her to tell me not to be hateful, but she didn’t—thank goodness.
“I apologize again about today. Can I take you to dinner tomorrow evening to make up for such short notice about going to Sierra Blanca today? Pick you up at six?End of message. Do you want to send a return message?”
“Yes,” I answered. “Tell him he is forgiven, and I will be ready.”
“Sent. He says,thank you. Do you want to send a return message?”
“No,” I answered, and got a whiff of the pie behind me.
“Why are all these memories coming back to me since I arrived in this desolate place?” I asked. The GPS lady didn’t even try to answer that, but I could almost feel Mama’s presence beside me.
No matter how far you go or where you are, memories will be with you or follow you.I heard her voice as plain as if she really was sitting in the passenger seat.They are what keep a person alive in your heart.
Chapter Eleven
The three hours from the time we left the café until six, when Jackson was supposed to arrive, were worse than the times I’d spent in a hotel room before I went to a poker game. I shuffled my lucky deck of cards a dozen times, not to bring me good fortune in a poker game, but hopefully for a bit of luck on my first-ever real date.
I hadn’t seen a restaurant in Dell City fancy enough for one of the dresses I wore to my card games, but I still changed my clothes five times. A pile of discarded things lay on the bed, along with three pairs of shoes and a dozen pieces of jewelry. I finally decided to go casual with a pair of jeans and a mossy-green sweater, but I added a pair of heels to dress the outfit up and give me a little more height.
At the last minute, I twisted my hair up into a messy bun and let two tendrils fall to frame my face. With fresh lipstick application and one final check in the mirror, I reached the end of the hallway at the same time Jackson knocked on the door, but Scarlett opened it before I could get there.
“Come on in, Jackson. Most of us are ready to go, but Rosie is still redoing her hair,” she said. “It takes a while to get her dark curls tamed after wearing it in a bonnet all day. I can fix you a glass of tea or a cup of coffee while we wait.”
The poor man looked thunderstruck, and it wasn’t from my beauty or lack of it. “I ... well ...,” he stammered.
