Summer of a Thousand Pies

by Margaret Dilloway

  I nod.

  Ceremoniously we get out the flour. Today I make the crust by hand. It’s too important not to. Carefully I cut in the butter and water and put it into the refrigerator.

  Then I peel Granny Smiths and Galas by hand. I cut them up and add the spices. Jay watches with a serious expression. María comes over, too, and puts her arm around her son.

  I take the dough out of the fridge and dust the counter with flour. Shell and Suzanne come in now.

  I roll it out in the clock pattern. The butter stays perfectly chilled. I drape it over the pie tin and cut away the extra. I put in the apples and add the top crust, then make slits in the center like spokes on a wheel. They all watch me like I’m about to win a big chess tournament or something quiet like that.

  This will be the thousandth.

  I put the pie in the oven.

  Nobody moves from the perimeter of the table. “Do you remember when Cady first came here and she ate like two pounds of pasta?” Suzanne says.

  “And when she burned the cake?” Shell ruffles my hair.

  “And when she, like, saved the shop?” Jay says.

  My neck and face warm up, but not from embarrassment, because my stomach doesn’t hurt with butterflies. Instead, it feels like butterflies are on my skin, beautiful ones dancing around.

  This is the first time people have told stories about me. I’m practically like Paul Bunyan. And this is only the beginning. I lift my head and smile at them.

  “I heard there was an important thing going on.” Claudia comes in, followed by Mr. Miniver and Esmeralda and Señora Vasquez.

  “Make the mark.” Jay points at the paper.

  “Not until the pie comes out,” I say.

  The bell in front tinkles.

  “Hello?” Gable calls. “Anybody here?”

  “In the back!” Claudia yells.

  Gable comes in, followed by his dad. “What’s going on? We need to buy a pie and you’ve got customers!”

  “I’ll help you.” Claudia starts for the front.

  “What are we waiting for?” Grant asks.

  “Cady’s thousandth pie,” Claudia says. “Remember, I told you about it.”

  More people talking about me. Somehow I don’t mind a bit.

  “Oh!” Grant nods. “That’s important. Tell you what. I’ll man the counter for a bit until you come back.”

  “You sure?” Shell squints at him.

  “Of course.” Grant goes out front.

  I swallow, watching the timer count down like I’m waiting for a rocket ship to take off. Finally the buzzer pings. I put on the mitts and use the paddle to take out the pie.

  It looks sheer perfection.

  Now I walk over to the sheet and make the final mark.

  A thousand pies.

  Everyone yells, “Woo-hoo!” and claps.

  “Leveled up!” Jay shouts. “Go, Cady!”

  I turn and wipe at my eyes with my sleeve.

  Shell lifts me up and I laugh wildly as she spins me around. We take up the whole space together. “You did good, kiddo.”

  Shell takes us home after that. Mr. Miniver comes to Jay’s house with his Jeep. Claudia’s going to the community college downtown.

  Mr. Miniver’s securing boxes. Esmeralda is sitting on the porch, crying as she watches her big sister load her stuff. “I’ll see you all the time, I promise,” Claudia’s telling her, pushing strands of sweaty hair off her little forehead.

  “I have something for you.” I take a small bag out of my backpack. It’s a pretty notebook, covered in hummingbirds and flowers.

  Esmeralda holds out her hands. “Ooh. I want it.”

  “Thank you, Cady.” Claudia beams at me. “Hey, Ezzie, let’s draw together. Okay?” She whips out a pen and draws a sun. Esmeralda takes it and draws a face on the sun, then holds the notebook out for Jay.

  Jay draws sawtooth blades of grass. I draw a person with a giant, goofy happy face.

  I want this moment to last longer.

  “I’m going to college for you guys, you know,” Claudia says in a low voice. “I want to change the law for you before you turn eighteen.” She frowns at the page, then lifts her head. “I’m not going to be quiet anymore.”

  “I know,” Jay says softly. He draws a flying cat.

  Mr. Miniver comes over, his eyes fiercely lit. “That’s right. You protest. I’m going to write so many letters to Congress their eyes will bleed from reading them. It’s time for them to fix the mess they made.”

  Esmeralda hands him the drawing and the pen. Mr. Miniver sketches something for longer than any of us; we’re all fidgeting worse than Esmeralda.

  He flips the book to show us. A house. A house with a wide-open front door. “If any of you kids ever need a place to stay . . .” Mr. Miniver taps the door on the picture. “You know where I am.”

  Claudia’s face crumples. She stands up and hugs him. “Thank you, Mr. Miniver.”

  Señora Vasquez limps out of the house. “Are we ready, Claudia?” She takes a look at the packed Jeep and her lip starts trembling.

  Jay pipes up. “Don’t worry, me and Cady and Esmeralda are still here.”

  She ruffles his hair, then makes a face. “Ay, Jay, you smell like a locker room filled with cattle! Go take a shower.”

  I burst into laughter.

  Chapter 40

  When I step through the gate, Jacques and Julia go crazy, barking and jumping around as if I’ve been gone for a hundred years instead of half a day. I have to pet them for five minutes before they calm down. Inside, Tom howls at me and I pick him up and stroke his fur.

  The house is quiet, but not too quiet like Mr. Miniver’s. It’s more of a waiting kind of quiet, because soon Shell and Suzanne will be home. Anyway, I’m not scared to be by myself now. Not with so many people in town that I know will come help me in a second.

  I get a granola bar out of the kitchen and tear into it, Jacques and Julia vacuuming up the crumbs. I break a piece in half and give it to them. This reminds me.

  I run up to my room and get the laundry basket of food and bring it downstairs. Then I put everything away. Except for another granola bar—that I’ll keep, in case of a snack emergency.

  “There.” I stand back and look at the pantry, waiting for my old familiar panic to come back. But there’s nothing. I feel the same as I did a minute ago.

  Smiling to myself, I pick up a Red Delicious apple and crunch into it. Then I go into the living room, plop down on the couch, and turn on The Bake Off. I’m still not done with all the episodes. Luckily, there are more on Netflix.

  One of the contestants, a girl Claudia’s age named Ruby, puts her pile of buns down in front of the judges. She looks upset. “I’m sorry,” she says. She lists all the problems she thinks they have.

  They tell her not to apologize, because they haven’t tasted them yet. It makes them not want to eat any. But she’s so sure she’s messed them all up she doesn’t care.

  A pile of mail sits on the coffee table with a letter waiting for me. Dad. I pause the show.

  I hope you’re well, Buttercup. I’m doing much better these days. They say people usually lose weight in here. I’m gaining.

  I know Aunt Shell and Suzanne are taking good care of you. I don’t want you to worry about me. You did too much of that before. It’s time for you to worry about yourself. Got that?

  Talk to you real soon.

  Love,

  Dad

  I put it down, waiting for a big wave of sadness to knock me over, the way it always does when I hear from Dad. To my surprise, it doesn’t.

  I feel . . . settled. As if things will work out. I don’t know if my dad will do enough to get me back. Maybe I’ll live with him again, maybe I won’t. Nobody can tell the future. Claudia doesn’t know if she can ever get a green card, but she hopes for the best. So do I. All we can do is keep working. Like I did with the pies.

  I hit play.

  Mary and Paul eat the buns the girl th
ought she’d ruined. “It’s scrummy!” Mary Berry tells her. They tell her not to come in apologizing when they haven’t even tasted anything yet.

  The girl smiles. The judges were right. You shouldn’t assume things are awful before they’ve had a chance to really finish.

  Sometimes things are scrummy even if they look bad at first.

  We stand in the parking lot under a shade cover. The pies sit in neat rows in white boxes with Mr. Miniver’s cartoon face printed on them. Today we’re at a store near Jenna’s house, by my old school. They’re having a gluten-free fair, with stores offering samples of all kinds of different foods under tents. This is the first store to agree to carry Shell’s, and we’re hoping it will take off from there.

  I watch the crowds sampling the gluten-free and vegan goods, my stomach pinched with excitement. Lots of people take postcards from our table. Aunt Shell’s Gluten-Free Pies, now available at a store near you, says the postcard, with Claudia’s art on it. It’s the same one I sent to Jenna.

  Ask your mom if she’ll take you. Shell says you get a free pie. An ENTIRE pie. But you have to get your own whipped cream.

  Jay and I wear plastic gloves and hairnets to look official and less like kids. I don’t think anyone would trust a kid to wash her hands. Suzanne and Shell stand nearby, chatting with the store manager. Suzanne catches my eye and winks. I wink back. Which probably looks more like a twitch, because my wink’s not very good. But whatever.

  Across the parking lot, a black SUV pulls in and heads in our direction. I recognize the blond head of Jenna’s mother.

  I clutch Jay’s arm.

  “Is that her?” Jay says. “Ow, what’s with the death grip?”

  “Sorry. I’m excited.” I watch as Jenna climbs out of the car and begins running in our direction.

  “Wait!” her mother shouts.

  “Yep.” I wave at her, not caring if I look like a dork in my net and rubber gloves. Jenna stops running and waits for her mother.

  “I’ll cut her a real slice of pie.” Jay cuts her a strawberry piece. The recipe’s the same, just the crust is different. He cuts her an enormous slice, way too big, almost a quarter of a pie, but it’s fine because I’ll eat what Jenna doesn’t.

  Shell comes and puts her arms on my shoulders. “You doing all right, kiddo?” she whispers. Her warmth is as comfortable now as a sweater I didn’t know I needed until I put it on. We’re long past the awkward silence phase.

  “Better than okay,” I whisper back.

  “What’s going on over here?” Suzanne steps next to us and puts her face right next to mine, lowering her voice. “What are we whispering about? Are you talking about me?”

  “Yes,” I whisper jokingly. “Gosh, Suzanne. What an ego!”

  “We’re saying that we hope you make your famous fish tacos tonight,” Shell whispers too. “This store has a pretty good seafood department.”

  “Hint taken.” Suzanne heads off toward the store with a wave. Suzanne’s thinking about making her leave of absence from the boat a permanent thing. I hope she does.

  But if she has to go back to work again, it’ll be okay. It’ll be okay if this gluten-free pie thing doesn’t work as well as we want.

  Because I’m Cady Madeline Bennett, and I can pretty much get through everything.

  “Cady!” Jenna shouts. Running again. “I’m here! I’m here!”

  A grin about as big as the Grand Canyon comes over my face. “I want you to meet someone!” I grab Jay with my left arm, Jenna with my right. I pull them together in a huddle-hug. My new friend and my old friend.

  And you know what? Hugs might have handshakes beat, sometimes.

  Cady’s Recipe Book

  Recipes

  9-Inch Double Pie Crust, with Notes from Cady

  Ingredients

  2½ cups unbleached all-purpose flour

  1 teaspoon salt

  1 cup (16 tablespoons) unsalted butter*

  ½ to ¾ cup ice water

  *If you use salted butter, reduce the salt in the recipe to ½ teaspoon.

  You can use a food processor, a pastry cutter, or just a plain old butter knife (no steak knives necessary!). If you’re doing it by hand, you’ll also want a fork or wire whisk. And you’ll need a rolling pin to shape the dough.

  Directions

  1.In a food processor, pulse the flour and salt together. Or you can mix them together with a fork or wire whisk.

  2.Cut the butter into 1" cubes. Pulse (food processor) or work it into the flour (with a pastry cutter or knife) until pieces of butter are scattered throughout. Be careful with the food processor—it works super-fast!

  3.Now get the ice water. Pulsing or tossing with a fork or your fingers, drizzle in a little of the water, paying attention to the dough texture. How much water depends on a lot of things, such as the temperature of the room—so go by the dough, not the actual amount of water.

  4.The dough will start sticking together, at which point stop. You still want to see pieces of butter—if you do this too long, the butter will melt instead. If the dough’s still crumbly or there are dry spots, continue to add ice water and mix.

  5.Form the dough into a big ball, then divide it in half. Shape each half into a disk. Cover w/ plastic wrap while in fridge.

  6.Chill the dough for at least 30 minutes before rolling. You could roll it right away if needed, but you should really let it rest.

  7.If your dough’s too hard when it comes out of the refrigerator (because it’s been in there for longer than 30 minutes), let it sit out at room temperature for about 10 minutes. Then it will roll out easily. If it’s too warm, the dough will be too sticky.

  8.Next, roll your dough. Make sure the surface where you’re rolling is nice and clean. Then sprinkle a little flour onto the surface. You could also roll your dough out on a pastry mat (a canvas mat sold in stores) or a piece of waxed or parchment paper. The papers are nice because they control the mess and the dough won’t stick.

  How do you not overwork your crust? You try to roll it as little as you can.

  9.Roll out the dough into a circle, trying to keep an even thickness. To do this, pretend that your pie crust is a clock. Roll the pin toward an imaginary number 12, then 6, then 3, then 9.

  10.Roll in only one direction at a time—this will help you not overwork the crust. So, roll to your imaginary number, then pick up the pin and roll it again.

  The dough should be about ¹⁄8 inch thick, and about a 12-inch circle, to fit into a 9-inch pie pan. Get down low and see if it seems to be the same thickness throughout—sometimes the edges get really thin.

  Do you still see pieces of butter throughout the dough? Yes? That’s what you want.

  11.Repeat with the other dough disk, for the top of your pie.

  Apple Pie, with Notes from Cady

  Ingredients

  3 Gala and 3 Granny Smith apples, medium sized—peeled and cut to about the size of the apple slices you take for lunch. Make sure there’s no core in the slices—it’ll taste like tree bark!

  ½ cup white sugar

  ½ cup packed brown sugar

  1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

  ½ teaspoon ground nutmeg

  3 tablespoons cornstarch

  Pastry from 9-Inch Double Pie Crust recipe (make sure you have two crusts!)

  1 tablespoon milk (any kind)

  Other stuff

  9-inch pie pan

  Butter knife

  Pastry brush (a barbecue brush could work as long as it’s really clean; you don’t want barbecue sauce taste on your pie)

  Directions

  1.Look inside your oven and make sure nobody’s storing pans in there. Put the oven rack in the middle.

  2.Preheat the oven to 425 degrees.

  3.In a large bowl, mix the apple slices with the sugars and cinnamon and nutmeg. Sprinkle the cornstarch over everything and mix it in, too. The cornstarch will help absorb the moisture—no soggy bottoms!

  4.Put one crust on the bo
ttom of the pan. Pour in the apple mixture. Yes, the apples will look like a hill and be a little taller than your pan. That’s okay—they’ll cook down.

  5.Put your other crust on top and crimp the edges together by pinching the crusts between your fingers. Try to make sure there are no spaces.

  6.Take a butter knife (or any knife) and make two to three slits near the center of the pie. This lets the steam out. (The apples let off a lot of water when they cook. Again, no soggy bottoms!)

  7.Now dip the pastry brush in the milk and paint the top of the pie with a light coat. This will help the top crust get a nice, even brown.

  8.Bake 15 minutes in the preheated oven.

  9.Reduce the temperature to 350 degrees. This will keep the crust edges from burning. The higher temperature helps brown it.

  10.Let it bake for 35 to 45 more minutes. How long it takes depends on your oven, your altitude, and the exact mix of dough you made. So turn on the oven light or open the door and peek in.

  When the top of the pie looks an even, golden brown, it’s ready.

  This part is the hardest. You have to let it cool. Probably for an hour, or you’ll burn your tongue.

  Eat it with whipped cream, ice cream, or even cheddar cheese! (Apparently, there’s an old law in Wisconsin saying restaurants must serve a slice of cheddar cheese with apple pie. That’s usually not on the menu in California, though.) It’s up to you.

  Now that you know the basic recipe, you can adjust the spices. Want more cinnamon? Add it. Want a little bit of sharper spice? Try a dash of ground ginger. You can also use different kinds of apples or fruit. Invent your own pie!

  Cady’s Fennel Apple Raisin Pie

  (makes one 9-inch pie)

  Ingredients

  1 fennel bulb

  3 Gala and 3 Granny Smith apples, medium sized, peeled and sliced

  ⅔ cup raisins

  ¼ teaspoon ground cardamom

  1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

  ½ cup white sugar

  ¼ cup brown sugar

  2 tablespoons all-purpose flour

  Pastry from 9-Inch Double Pie Crust recipe (make sure you have two crusts!)