Secrets and Pies

by Jenny Kales

  “I’ve been here since about 3 a.m.,” Max confessed.

  “That’s going above and beyond, Max. I mean, thank you, but I didn’t expect you to do this.”

  Max smiled wearily. “I wanted to help.”

  “You need coffee and so do I,” Callie told him. She got two heavy white mugs out of the cabinet and looked around for some paxemathia to go with them.

  “You go ahead,” Max replied, arranging a strawberry pie just so on the counter. “I’ve been drinking coffee for hours.”

  “I guess you’re fully caffeinated then. Just have a seat and I’ll grab a cup for myself.”

  Max sat down but he couldn’t be still. He tapped his fingers on the table while Callie filled her cup to the brim and added just the right amount of milk and sugar. She grabbed a stool across from him and sipped the hot brew for several minutes. Max just looked off into space, then abruptly got up and started washing bowls and spatulas.

  “I may not be fully awake yet, but I feel like something is wrong,” Callie ventured.

  Max didn’t answer, so Callie decided to give him some space as she got out phyllo dough, butter and eggs for the Greek Fest pites. She figured she could at least start assembling some of the savory pies before her regular morning customers filed into the shop. Max busied himself with the dishes, then started frying loukoumades, aka Greek doughnut holes, that he would then drizzle with honey and a dusting of cinnamon.

  Callie was cleaning spinach in a colander when Max finally decided to speak.

  “The reason I got here so early to bake is because my dad had a fall and broke his hip. There’s no one to help out at the farm. Just me. I’m sorry but, today’s my last day at Callie’s Kitchen.”

  Fifteen

  Callie only realized she had dropped the colander in the sink when she heard a loud clatter. Abruptly, she turned off the faucet and stared at Max.

  “I’m...I…” she stammered.

  “I’m sorry, Callie. There’s nothing I can do. This job means the world to me, but…” Max broke off.

  Callie felt like the floor had dropped from beneath her feet. She realized now how much she’d been in denial about losing Max as an employee. Moved by his pain, Callie walked over to him and gave him a hug.

  “It won’t be the same without you,” she said.

  He squeezed her back with his big arms. “I have until the end of the day,” he said, trying to smile. “Enough with the sappy stuff. Let’s get cooking.”

  The morning rush of customers came and went like a blur to Callie. Mechanically, she smiled, poured coffee, served up Greek pastries, and checked the fridge to make sure she had prepared enough Big (Low) Fat Greek Salads. In the heat, they were flying out of the kitchen.

  Max…gone. It was unbearable to imagine. But there it was. Callie couldn’t begrudge him helping his father, and she felt horrible that his father was having health problems. In fact, Max was showing his generous, loyal character by helping his family.

  But who else on earth would get up so early to bake pies, not only beautifully, but enthusiastically, and without being asked?

  As the salty smell of the spanakopita wafted from the ovens, a name flashed in Callie’s mind unbidden.

  George, her father. The man lived to help others, cook, bake and fuss over people.

  Did she dare tell George about her dilemma? She would love his help, but she didn’t want him to meddle. His experience in food service was valuable, though.

  Callie rummaged in the clear glass refrigerator at the front of her shop while she mulled this over. Based on the fact that only two containers remained, it looked like her rizogalo, aka Greek rice pudding, was a hit during the heat wave. Cool and creamy, it was served with a sprinkle of cinnamon and a dollop of fresh whipped cream from a local dairy farm. Callie had planned to make a lot more rizogalo not only for her customers, but also for the Greek Fest. She had just started cooking a huge pot of rice when she noticed Max speaking in low tones with a young man up near the register.

  On closer inspection, Callie realized that the young man Max was speaking to was Josh, the actor she’d helped to feed at the last Beats on the Bay event.

  “Good morning,” she said with as much friendliness as she could muster despite her inner turmoil about losing Max. “What can we get for you today?”

  “It’s more like, what can he do for us,” Max interjected. “Josh is studying culinary arts at Crystal Bay College, and he said he needs another job for the summer. What do you think?”

  Josh beamed at Callie. “I’d love to get some hands-on cooking experience serving real customers. I’ve only worked as a waiter before. I love to cook, and I love people. Max said you needed some help, so maybe you’ll be willing to give me a try?”

  Callie was completely taken aback. She couldn’t simply hire someone off the street! At first, she was angry at Max for going over her head, but then she saw his pleading expression. He was only trying to help.

  She had another, more devious thought. Josh might have some insight into the problematic acting troupe and its potential link to Holly’s murder. Who knew what she might be able to uncover?

  “Tell you what, Josh. Why don’t you stop by tomorrow, and I’ll give you a trial. In the meantime, why don’t you make one of your favorite recipes from culinary school for me to taste? You can bring it by when you show up for your shift. Let’s see…” Callie debated what would be the best time for him to arrive. “Can you be here really early? About 6 a.m.? I’d love to see what you can do, but we’ve been really busy, and nobody but me will be here at that time. Be prepared to stay through the morning rush.”

  “Yeah, sure! Thanks!” Josh looked a little bit like a puppy with his big brown eyes. Callie couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.

  “All right. See you tomorrow.”

  “You bet. See ya! Thanks, Callie. Thanks, Max!” Josh loped out of the shop, grinning.

  “Can he really cook?” Callie asked Max once Josh had left. She’d never gone to culinary school herself, but she considered George to be the best cooking teacher of all. He’d taught her to make his favorite traditional Greek dishes since she was old enough to hold a mixing spoon.

  “He says he can,” Max said. “It’s better than nothing. If he’s a disaster, at least he can do some prep for you or something. I’d feel better knowing I’m not leaving you totally alone.”

  “That’s true.” Callie knew that George would fill in if needed, but maybe Josh would respond better to direction. George was a hard worker, but he tended to dominate in the kitchen.

  A feeling of panic washed over Callie. Max was really leaving.

  Feeling like Scarlett O’Hara, she told herself not to think about that now. She’d think about it tomorrow or she’d go crazy.

  ***

  Unfortunately for Callie, tomorrow was a long way off. Before her head could hit the pillow, she was going to be serving at Beats on the Bay again, as well as making sure that she had all of the food ready for the Greek Fest.

  Today was Wednesday. Greek Fest started on Friday. Callie took a deep breath and let it out with a whoosh. She could do it. She’d have to.

  Maybe Josh was the answer to her prayers.

  On that optimistic note, Callie pushed through the rest of the day. Piper came in and Callie could tell that Max had broken the news to her. Exuberant, colorfully dressed Piper was more subdued than she’d ever been.

  As Callie was pulling her golden pites from the oven, Piper came over to her. “Can I take a picture for our Instagram account?”

  “Sure.” Callie smiled. “These are for the Greek Fest at the church. Be sure to caption them when you post this.”

  Piper took a couple of shots of the tantalizing-looking pites and then smiled sadly at Callie. “Max told me. I’m not going anywhere. I love this job. And, I love Max, too. I know he wants to stay.”

  “Of course he does,” Callie said briskly, afraid she would start tearing up. “But family comes first. Lis
ten,” she said, changing the subject before she broke down. “Can you work here tonight? I need to go to Beats on the Bay again. It’s the last time I’ll be doing it, for a while anyway.”

  Piper twirled her ponytail. “No problem. I know you can use the help.”

  “Can I ever, and hey, it will give a nice boost to your paycheck. I may need you to start working more hours.”

  “Yeah, with Max living forty-five minutes away, I’ll have a lot more free time.” Piper sighed. Suddenly, Callie remembered something that she’d forgotten in the last few confusing days.

  “Max told me that you saw Holly Tennyson in the shop not long before her death. He said that Holly seemed really stressed out and that you would remember.”

  Piper raised her eyebrows so high they nearly disappeared into her blunt-cut bangs. Piper favored a retro Bettie Page hairstyle and fifties-style clothing. Today was no exception. She wore a sunny lemon-print dress with a full skirt underneath her Callie’s Kitchen apron.

  “Wow, you’re right,” she said. “I’d forgotten all about that until just now. Holly was always so sweet, but that day she seemed a little sour if you know what I mean.”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  “Usually she was happy to have some girl talk, and all that. Or sometimes she’d say she was working on her graduate thesis and that it was going better than she’d ever hoped. The reason I remember her so well that day is that she was just kind of snippy with me, and she looked out of sorts. You can tell when somebody is upset. At least, I can.”

  “Hmm. I wonder what made her stop in here if she was so upset.”

  “Food, of course! She told me she was starving but that she had no time to go home and eat, so what did we have that was ready to go and didn’t need to be heated up. I gave her a Greek salad and she just zoomed out of here. I’m not sure where she was going, sorry.”

  Piper suddenly broke off and smiled as a customer approached the counter. April Manning. She was dressed in khaki shorts with a tool belt and a long-sleeved denim shirt. Callie wondered if she was taking a break from working on Lisa Linley’s house.

  “Hi, April,” Callie greeted her. “What can we get you?” She remembered what Hugh had told her about Lisa being a difficult client.

  April, however, seemed unfazed. “I’ve heard that everything is good here. What do you recommend?”

  Callie was happy to know that her food had been praised. “It depends on what you feel like. Do you want a full meal or just a snack?”

  April cocked her head and looked at the menu board on the wall behind Callie. “I’d love to sit down and have a full meal, but I’ve got to get back to The Harris House. So just a snack, I guess.”

  “In that case, have some spanakopita. It’s so filling it’s almost like a full meal. Plus, how about a couple of my Greek biscotti to go with some coffee, in case you need a pick-me-up.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Piper heated up a piece of Callie’s spinach-feta pie and put some cookies in a bag while Callie took April’s money.

  “How’s it going at The Harris House?” Callie asked mildly, wondering if April might reveal anything new about Lisa Linley.

  “Things are pretty good.” April shrugged. “It’s probably one of my easier jobs.”

  Easier jobs? Callie frowned. What had Hugh been talking about, then, saying Lisa was hard to work for?

  “April, I understand that you were friends with Holly. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything to you before. I didn’t know that you knew her.”

  April flushed and she looked down at the countertop. Finally, she looked up at Callie, her mouth in a tight line. “Thank you,” she said softly. “It’s been really hard. She was such a vibrant person, and smart, too. I’ve been trying to keep busy to get my mind off of things. Work helps.”

  “Yes,” Callie said. “Holly had a lot of talents. I hear she was writing a wonderful graduate thesis on F. Scott Fitzgerald, for one thing. ”

  April shrugged. “Yes, I guess so. I’ve never been much for reading,” April admitted. “I’ve always preferred working with my hands and things like that. Holly and I used to do outdoorsy things together, like hiking around the lake. Holly was kind of the ‘brains’ of our friendship, I guess you could say. I’m more the ‘brawn.’” April gave a sad little laugh and pointed at her small but well-developed left bicep.

  “I enjoy reading,” Callie said in a clumsy attempt to change the tone of conversation. The death of a friend was not a cheery topic. “But I know what you mean about working with your hands. That’s what cooking is all about, after all.”

  Fortunately, Piper returned with the food, putting a halt to Callie and April’s awkward conversation.

  “Hmmmm. Smells great,” April said, inhaling deeply. She appeared to be cheering up at the sight of the food and Callie felt relieved.

  April grabbed the bag and paid for her purchases. “I really should get back,” she said, already halfway to the door. “Thanks for the food recommendation. This should hit the spot.” She nodded at the two women, waved and walked out of the store, her calf muscles rippling.

  Maybe if she, Callie, rehabbed houses all day instead of cooking, she’d have muscular calves as well. And maybe all of her jeans would fit better…

  Piper interrupted her thoughts.

  “I hope I was helpful regarding Holly. There’s not a lot more I can tell you.”

  “No need. Thanks for sharing. And thanks for your support. I really appreciate it.”

  “You bet. You can count on me.”

  ***

  Those words were still stuck in Callie’s mind as she pulled up at the Beats on the Bay event several hours later. Max had said goodbye and promised to keep in touch. It was a short exchange. Max seemed determined to leave before either of them got too emotional. Callie had to admit that she’d shed a few tears when he’d gone. It wasn’t like he was going away forever. It was just that he’d been her right hand since the inception of Callie’s Kitchen. It would seem incomplete without him.

  But there was no time for tears right now. Callie straightened her shoulders as she arrived at her designated tent. She spotted Viv yakking away with a group of women, but Viv waved goodbye to the jovial group when she spotted her granddaughter. She rushed to Callie’s side.

  “How did it go today?” Viv asked. “I’m so happy you could help us. Gert DeWitt is beside herself with joy that you’re the one serving food again tonight.”

  “Hi Grandma,” Callie said, giving Viv a quick hug. “I’ve had better days. Max quit.”

  “Quit?” Viv took a step back. “Whatever for dear?”

  “Family problems. His father fell and broke his hip. Max is needed on the farm, and there’s nobody else to help right now. He had to leave today without giving me any notice. Not that I blame him, but it’s been a difficult day.”

  “Oh Callie,” Viv said grasping her granddaughter’s hand. “I’m just so sorry, and here I gave you even more to do than usual.”

  “The show must go on,” Callie answered, unwittingly echoing Raine’s words to her at the supermarket. “On a brighter note,” Viv was saying, “everything is ready for you. Since you’re on your own tonight, I’ll pop back here and help out. Would you like that?”

  “You bet I would. Thanks.”

  Callie unpacked her food from the coolers as Viv set off in search of Mrs. DeWitt to let her know that she’d be behind the tent. The band name wasn’t one she recognized, but she hoped they’d be a bit quieter than The Tundras.

  Stepping back from the table, Callie surveyed the items she was serving to the concertgoers. Her dismal spirits rose just a little bit as she’d surveyed the food. Wedges of strawberry pie, their crusts sparkling with sugar and berries bursting with thick juice looked like the picture of summer. Crunchy chocolate chip cookies in sets of two beckoned on small white paper plates. Tempting slices of Greek honey cheese pie, or melopita, dusted with cinnamon, lay next to the cookies. The pie was like a c
ross between custard pie and cheesecake, but with a lighter texture and lemony flavor notes.

  Next to the melopita was a tray of the “emergency spanakopita” Callie always kept in the fridge, thawed, baked to golden perfection and cut into appetizing squares. Callie had also brought a few trays of tiny cream puffs. Cream puffs were a Wisconsin tradition. For a couple of savory options, she’d brought home-baked pretzels and feta/olive “meze,” aka small plates, for people who just wanted a snack. It was quite the assortment of Mediterranean specialties and Midwest summer favorites.

  The missing ingredient, Callie realized, was Max. She hadn’t realized how much she’d counted on his support. Piper was great, but Max was a whiz in the kitchen. Who else would go on nighttime visits to crime scenes with her?

  The sound of the band tuning up provided a welcome distraction to Callie’s ruminations. They were a group of dapper older gentlemen who appeared to be much quieter than the noisy Tundras. Thank goodness.

  The lawn was filling up with people on this mild summer evening, and Callie served a few hungry concert goers who seemed enthusiastic about her offerings. Despite her numerous worries, Callie felt her shoulders relax as she scanned the crowd for familiar faces.

  April Manning, wearing cut-off jean shorts and a flowy white top, was chatting and laughing with a group of young men and women Callie didn’t recognize. And oh my … was that Raine and Hugh just a few feet away? They were sitting on a blanket with a two glasses of wine in front of them.

  “How’s it going, dear?” Viv scooted over to Callie. “Any customers yet?”

  “Hi, Grandma. Just a few, so far. I think it will pick up when Mrs. DeWitt makes her announcement. That’s what happened last time.”

  “Everything looks good enough to eat.” Viv patted Callie on the shoulder. “I’m so sorry about Max. But I’m here to help. Remember that.”

  “Thanks. It’s just such a shock. The good news is that Max found a friend to fill in for him already, so I guess it could be worse.”