Page 27 of A Simple Love

Somehow, I knew there was more to the story. I knew without a doubt this so-called accident had something to do with her leaving Toronto and coming home. But she wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. She didn’t trust me—not that I could blame her. I had to earn that trust. And I intended to. No matter what it took to do so.

We finished dinner, and Kassie suggested dessert out on her little patio. She made coffee, and I carried out the tray with another one of her decadent pies added to it.

It was a great space, with a two-person hot tub in the corner, a table and a couple of chairs, plus a small outdoor love seat, a tall fence around it all for protection and privacy.

“I like this,” I said as I admired the potted plants that added a pop of color to the area.

“I thought eventually I might add a pool for renters in the backyard,” she explained. “I like to read in the shaded gazebo over there, but once I add the pool, I’ll probably put a gazebo roof here. Then I have my space, and they have theirs. I can use the pool when the place is empty too.”

“Great plan.”

She was very organized and thoughtful in her decisions. She always had been.

We sat down, and she cut me a piece of the delicious-looking dessert. I took a bite of the pie and groaned. “Good God, what is this?”

“Chocolate peanut butter pie,” she replied.

“This is crazy good.” I cut off another bite and chewed the rich filling, my taste buds singing in happiness. “Tell me more about how you started baking pies as a part-time gig.”

She laughed as she told me the story of meeting Quinn. Offering to bake the pies. Taking Quinn four different samples of her pies, including the chocolate peanut butter one I was currently enjoying. “John was there, and once he took a bite, he insisted she had to hire me. The rest is history.”

“I like this period in history,” I mumbled.

We were quiet for a moment, enjoying the peacefulness of the evening, the rich coffee, and the delicious dessert. Kassie shifted in her chair, and I noticed another grimace.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked.

“I’m just a little stiff. No doubt from trying to start the lawn mower,” she said.

“I can cut the grass while I’m here,” I informed her.

“You’re the tenant, Oliver. It’s my responsibility to cut the grass. I’m looking to find a kid to do it for me, but unfortunately, this generation isn’t interested in cutting the grass the way you were.”

I sat back with a sigh, setting down my empty pie plate. “Yeah, the kids in LA aren’t into part-time manual labor jobs either. They want to be creative designers, post memes, monetize their pages, rather than look for odd jobs. At least the ones not looking to make it big in the industry.”

“Not a lot of kids looking to break into showbiz here,” she said dryly. “But not interested in cutting the grass either. They want to be TikTok sensations.”

I chuckled, looking up at the sky, thinking how bright the stars seemed here. “I suppose life was simpler back then.”

“I sort of miss it,” Kassie murmured.

I glanced over at her, seeing that she, too, was staring up into the night sky. “Do you remember Gladys Turnbull?” I asked.

“Oh my God, you were always in trouble with her,” she said with a laugh. “Do you remember how often you raided her garden and she’d catch you and chase you down the street, yelling?”

“Weekly,” I replied, laughing with her. “She and Mr. Kaufman—they grew great carrots and the best potatoes around. His peas were always so sweet. I ate them by the handful. I loved to raid their gardens.”

“You were always in trouble with them,” Kassie scolded me gently. “And you’d make it worse when you’d call her Mrs. Happy-bum.”

I laughed, having forgotten that. “Glad-ass, happy-bum, what was the difference?”

We both chuckled.

I wiped my eyes. “I was always in shit with them and a bunch of other people.”

“You used to get me into so much trouble,” she teased. “I was forever in scrapes because of you.”

I grinned in remembrance. “We were a great pair,” I said. “Constantly in trouble, yes, but what fun we had.”