Page 8 of Forbidden to Fall

I knocked on the door firmly but not aggressively, wondering if I’d have to go off looking for May in the woods. A pair of dirty boots sat beside the door, making me think she probably wasn’t out in the sugarbush, though.

Sure enough, the door opened.

“Sadie,” she said with pleasant surprise. “How you doin’, darlin’?”

“I’m good, thanks. I thought I’d bring back the bag you lent me”—I held it up—“and a little treat to say thank you.” I held up the plate of cream puffs in my other hand.

“Well, aren’t you just the sweetest thing since honey on a biscuit! Come in, come in.” She stepped aside and motioned me in.

I stole a glance at her eyes, which were rimmed with red, like she’d been crying. She seemed plenty happy, though. Maybe she was just good at pretending. Or maybe she’d just finished watching The Notebook.

She invited me to sit at the kitchen table, then poured two glasses of tea. I’d forgotten how central to the Carver experience sweet tea was. You didn’t spend half an hour with May without a glass of it. I’d hated it the first time I’d tasted it, but I’d been too polite to ever refuse, and in time, I’d developed a taste for it.

A taste that had survived an eight-year sweet tea drought.

“You didn’t have to bring me anythin’, darlin’,” she said. “You didn’t even need to bring back the bag.”

“I wanted to, though. And I was hoping to run an idea by you anyway.”

Her brows went up as she set my glass in front of me and took her seat. “What sort of idea?”

I took in a breath, then launched into an explanation of what Mrs. Keller and I had discussed. It was a million times easier to tell it to May. Mrs. Keller had given me the hand-on-the-hip response; May’s eyes glistened, and she pulled me up from my seat and into a hug.

I settled into it. May was a skilled hugger, and she doled them out almost as freely as her tea. My parents were wonderful, but they were native New Englanders and not quite as demonstrative.

“This all depends upon my being able to bake something worth selling,” I said, trying to temper her expectations.

May pulled back and dashed away a tear. “I have no doubt about that.” She looked at me, her eyes brimming with warmth. “Just the plain fact that you thought to do this means the world to me.”

I gave a bracing smile as guilt pricked my heart. May Carver must not have been shown much love or care from Autumn Ridge in the past few years to be so moved by my half-baked idea.

“I have an idea or two for products we might sell,” I said, “but I need to do some brainstorming.” Having no constraints on my ideas was so novel, it was overwhelming.

May laughed, then looked at the plate. “Are these one of your ideas?”

“Maybe,” I said. “My brother Wade stole four more after eating one, but he also puts pineapple on his cottage cheese, so I can’t trust his judgment.”

Sitting down again, she grabbed one from the plate and took a bite.

I tried not to seem too tense while I took a seat and waited. In movies, food barely touched someone’s lips before they gasped out, “This is incredible!” Real life was terrible because people actually had to chew first.

“There are a few things I’d tweak,” I said. “I don’t have everything I need in my kitchen.”

May shut her eyes, a reaction that told me nothing.

Movie reactions were too quick, but it felt like we’d swung too far the other direction now.

She shook her head. “I forbid you to change a single thing about these! They are delicious, darlin’.”

I couldn’t stop a smile. “I’m glad you like them. Let’s hope the tourists do too.”

“They’ll gobble them up quicker than sweet rolls on Sunday mornin’.” She took another. “So, how can I help?”

“Well, I was wondering if I could take a look at the kitchen in the sugar shack? My own kitchen is really more fit for a toddler.”

“Of course! It’s bound to be dusty in there—hasn’t been used much for years—but it’s nothin’ a little elbow grease can’t fix.” She got up and went to one of the drawers, then pulled out a key. “I can come with you if you’d like.”

“Oh, no, that’s fine. I’ll just pop down to scope it out and bring the key back right after.” I took another sip of tea, then got to my feet.