A memory of my mom wearin' an apron fills my mind. Her big smile lights up the room as she pats me on the head and says about the cookies almost bein' ready.
The memory takes my breath away. I don't have very many of my mom, and I cherish each and every one I have. At the same time, I desperately try to block them out because it hurts too much to think about her.
"What the hell am I doin'?" I ask myself out loud. I quickly drop the apron back onto the chair and storm out of the house. I gotta stop doin' this shit with Penny. I gotta stop rememberin' shit before it opens up the floodgates and I won't be able to stop it. The bottom line is if I remember Penny, then I might start to remember everything. And I've lost so much that it might kill me all over again.
* * * * *
PENNY
I SOLD SEVEN cakes and four pies within the first hour of having them displayed. I guess Buddy was right --- people love homemade baked goods. And since there isn't a bakery within a twenty-mile radius, we're making out like bandits.
I head back to Colton's house to finish up the rest of my baking. The house is empty…except for Mack, of course. As Mack lies at my feet, I go about fulfilling my baking duties, humming and singing to myself. I really need to bring my iPod up here when I do this, but I don't think Colton would appreciate me singing when he's here.
I'm singing Adele'sHelloand totally belting out the chorus when I look up to see Colton leaning against the wall staring at me. My steps falter and my voice cracks, and I almost drop the cake I just spent the last twenty minutes icing.
He cocks his brow and smirks. "Hello," he says, mocking my song of choice.
"How are you?" I spit out another lyric with attitude.
"I don't know any other words," he confesses with a grin.
I carefully set the cake down and blow strands of hair from my eyes. "I'm just finishing up here," I tell him, meeting his gaze. He certainly seems to be in a better mood than he was earlier.Maybe he's not a morning person, I think to myself. Colton always did hate waking up for school. I guess some things never change.
"No hurry," he says. "The bar isn't busy. Although there are a lot of people askin' about where they can buy more of Penny's pies."
"Word travels fast in small towns."
"You have no idea," he says with more meaning than I think he intended.
The timer on the oven dings, and I'm quick to pull out my last apple pie. The lattice crust came out perfect, and I smile at myself thinking about how Colton's mom would be proud. We spent many afternoons together perfecting my techniques. And pastry school came naturally to me because of her. I just wish she were still alive so I could thank her for teaching me how to do something I love.
"Where did you learn to bake like this?" Colton asks, as if reading my mind.
"Your mom," I say softly, beaming down at the line of baked goods on the counter. "I was just thinking about how proud she would have been of me right at this moment. It took me forever to get the lattice crust just right." I wipe my hands on my apron before untying it and draping it over a chair. "She had the most amazing recipes, and I loved learning how to make all of them." I look up at Colton, and he looks pensive. "I hope you don't mind that I'm using her recipes."
He shakes his head, but doesn't utter a word.
"Good," I say softly. It's nice to be able to honor his mother in some small way. "I spent a lot of time in this house when we were kids. I practically lived here. Your dad used to call me the daughter they never had. And I think your mom liked having another girl to try to even out the odds with all the men in the house." I smile as I pull a knife out of the drawer and cut a slice of apple pie. "She always made a deal with you and me. If we picked the apples, she would make a pie just for us. We would spend all day picking apples from the trees in the backyard. All that work for just one pie, but, wow, it was the best apple pie you could ever eat. It was so worth it."
I plate the piece of pie and grab a fork before walking over to Colton. He looks apprehensive as I spear off a piece of pie with the fork and raise it to his mouth. His lips slowly open, and our eyes stay glued to each other as he closes his mouth and begins to chew. I watch his mouth moving, and I'm instantly mesmerized. The day-old stubble lining his defined jaw makes my knees weak.
An expression comes over him that I can't quite decipher as he swallows. Then he says, "It tastes just like the pies she used to bake."
A smile creeps over my lips. I'm glad I'm causing him to remember some of the more important things, especially about his mother. She was one of my favorite people. Cervical cancer took her from this world far too early. And I know for a fact that if she were still alive, she wouldn't have let Colton forget about me. She often called me her future daughter-in-law, always hoping that Colt and I would get married and have her grandkids. It's sad that she'll never get to see us be happy…if we ever even reach that point.
"What's wrong?" Colton asks, and I realize I'm on the verge of tears from thinking about his mom.
"Nothing. Just thinking about your mom and how great she was." I hand him the plate and fork before moving back over to the counter to begin boxing up pies and cakes. "That apple pie is yours. I'll leave it here for you."
"The whole pie? Penny, you don't have to do that," he says around a big mouthful of pie.
I chuckle as I see the piece on his plate is almost gone. "I want to," I say with a wink.
I have a hidden agenda, and it's not just about making him fat on my cakes and pies. Any way I can get him to rememberanythingis another triumph for me. I'm just hoping someday I can find the key to unlocking everything. But until then, I'm just going to bide my time, patiently waiting for the perfect moment.
"Well, I'm going to take these to the bar before Buddy has a conniption. I promise to be back to clean up your kitchen," I tell him, remembering how mad he was this morning when he saw the mess I'd made.
But Colton surprises me when he shakes his head and says, "I'll clean it up. You baked. I'll clean."
