Miracle Pie

by Edie Ramer

  MIRACLE PIE

  Edie Ramer

  Book Four in the

  Miracle Interrupted series

  A miracle is prophesied in a small village...

  And everyone secretly believes it’s meant for them.

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright © 2012 by Edie Ramer

  All rights reserved by author

  Excerpts from Stardust Miracle and Miracle Lane

  Copyright © 2012 by Edie Ramer

  Cover design by Laura Morrigan

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarities to real persons, living or dead, are coincidental and not intended by the author.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including the Internet, without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Acknowledgments

  Five smart, funny and talented writers helped make my book about pies, love and miracle better: Dale Mayer, whose dedication and talent inspires me. Michelle Diener and Liz Kreger, who ask all the right questions. Misty Evans, with her magic touch and generous soul. Sally Berneathy, for her encouragement and editing expertise.

  I dedicate this book to my mother, who instilled in me a love of books and pies.

  Chapter One

  Need spiraled inside Katie Guthrie as she reached her cottage, her morning pie deliveries done, her headlights slicing through the gloomy dawn, her windshield wipers slapping up and down. She ran inside, not caring that she was getting damp, and tossed her jacket at a hook in the back hall. It fell to the floor, and she left it. She needed to do this now and do it fast.

  She jerked cupboard doors open and grabbed ingredients. The urgency more intense than usual. Now, now, now. Hurry, hurry, hurry. She felt like a contestant on a TV cooking show. As if it were a do or die moment.

  It’s just pie, she told herself, but it didn’t stop her from jerking open the refrigerator door and grabbing the heavy whipping cream. She headed to her mixer on the counter. Whoever it was meant for would be here soon.

  The pie was never wrong.

  ***

  Katie gaped at Rosa Fabrini, standing in her kitchen with raindrops glistening on her luxuriant hair. The shapely matriarch’s dark brown eyes were like bruises today, her normal high-voltage charisma ebbed as if she were a toy in need of recharging.

  Shock froze Katie’s voice. This must be a mistake. Someone else must be coming soon for the pie in her refrigerator that was just reaching perfection.

  A snore came from the living room where Happy, Katie’s old, nearly deaf and blind Beagle, slept. No doubt dreaming that one of Katie’s pies would miraculously fall off the counter and she’d eat it all. No reason for Mom to clean. I’m a good dog. I’ll take care of it.

  “I’m leaving Mike,” Rosa said.

  A shockwave slammed through Katie. Rosa and Mike had been married as long as Katie could remember. Their sons were almost the same age as her. This was not good.

  Or was it?

  Seconds passed while she wondered what to say.

  It’s about time.

  You can do better than that asshole.

  I want to do a happy dance.

  None of those words came out of her mouth. Instead she made a low sound of sympathy, stepped forward and hugged the woman she’d often wished had been her mother. Rosa collapsed on Katie’s shoulder.

  This was her second friend who was in trouble. The other one lived in California. A long drive from Wisconsin. Katie gave Rosa an extra squeeze. This is for you, too, Trish. I hope you can feel it.

  “It’s going to be okay.” Katie patted Rosa’s damp hair as if she were Happy or her father’s rescue dog, Puck. It should be okay, she thought. Rosa deserved to have a good life.

  And Mike... Well, he deserved a good kick in his self-important, cheating ass.

  Rosa sniffed and pulled away. “I got you wet.”

  “No, you didn’t,” Katie lied. Now that she’d lost Rosa’s body warmth, she shivered. September had hit Wisconsin with a record heat wave just a week ago, but today the rain had brought cold air.

  And a friend in need.

  Maybe Katie didn’t know what to say, but she knew what to do. “Sit down. I have an Everything Will Get Better Pie in the fridge.”

  Rosa’s laugh came out as a half sob. She grasped Katie’s arm, stopping her. “I can’t eat.”

  “You’ll feel better after you eat my pie.” People always felt better after they ate her pies. She’d heard that since she baked her first pie while under the direction of her grandmother when she was barely six years old. As if a fairy had given her a gift at birth, her gram used to say. The gift of pie.

  When her dad heard about the prophecy of a miracle at church last spring, he’d said, “Every pie you make is a miracle.”

  “I’m not here for pie.” Rosa grasped Katie’s arm, and Katie turned back to her. Katie was five nine, and Rosa an inch or so shorter but with so much presence she often seemed more than everyone around her. Right now her dark eyes burned into Katie’s. “I’m not here for pity, either. I have an idea.”

  Katie stared at Rosa. She wasn’t good at these guessing games. Some people were good at subtext, but Katie saved her subtext for putting just the right amount of seasoning in her pies.

  “The pie is creamy chocolate.” Katie could hear her voice change, turning dreamlike, her forehead muscles relaxing. That’s how pie affected her. Her own precious prayer to make the world better, one pie at a time. “It starts with a rich, dark chocolate bottom, then a mix of mascarpone and heavy cream for the middle. The top is heavy whipped cream with chocolate curls.”

  She should have known it was meant for Rosa. All the ingredients pointed to her. In Katie’s mind, she pictured Rosa sitting at her table taking a bite, then licking her lips to make sure she didn’t miss a dollop of the topping, the tension in her face replaced with bliss. She could hear Rosa saying, “You know I was too good for him.” Katie’s pie making the revelation as clear as water.

  And Katie would reply, “Everyone knows that.”

  Which was the truth. Thanks mostly to Linda Wegner at Wegner’s, the village store that carried food, diapers, flashlights, batteries, books, sundries and the latest gossip, everyone in the village of Miracle knew about Mike’s wandering eyes and hands. Not to mention the body part below his belt.

  If someone shopped elsewhere, there was always Angie Schuster at Le Curl (We Do Men Too!), who talked longer and more in depth to make up for not being first. Katie supposed it must be hard to be second in one’s favorite activity.

  Not that Katie knew about that. No one made pies as good as hers.

  It wasn’t something she was particularly proud of. She’d never strived for this talent, it just was. There were child prodigies at most arts. Her art was making perfect pies.

  “Eat my pie and tell me about the idea,” she said.

  “If I eat a piece of your pie, I might want to eat the whole thing.”

  “Then eat the whole thing.”

  Rosa laughed and shook her head, but her laughter was like burnt popcorn pieces popping into the air. “You won’t relax until I eat, will you?”

  Katie touched Rosa’s upper arm. “It’s okay. Forget the pie. Tell me first.” Rosa needed to spit out the bad taste inside her before she could enjoy anything. Katie knew what that was like. “What happened?”

  “Amber’s pregnant.” Rosa’s rich voice was flat.

  A hot flush of anger took away the chill on Katie’s skin. “Mike’s the father?”

  Rosa nodded. “He didn’t tell me. She did.”

  “Coward.”

 
; “Bastardo.”

  “That too. You’re really leaving him?”

  “I leave him or I kill him.” Her lips bared, Rosa looked up and shook her fists at the ceiling, as if at God. “How dare he do this? How dare he?”

  Katie didn’t answer, though she could guess why Mike cheated. He was a weak man, and weak men needed to convince themselves they were strong. They thought putting their penis in places it didn’t belong was the best proof. It was something they could silently gloat over to make them feel good.

  I did that, they thought. I had sex with her. That proves I’m strong and virile.

  Katie knew about weak people. Her mother had been like that, dropping Katie off at her dad’s like an unwanted package when she was five.

  “You’re better off without him,” Katie said, bringing her attention back to Rosa. “Will you still work at the restaurant?”

  “Never!” Rosa’s voice rang out. “I want to have my own cooking show. I’ve wanted it for a long time, but Mike said there was too much competition.”

  Katie nodded because that led back to her first conclusion. In addition to the wandering penis and dictator imitations, weak men were afraid of competition. That’s why Fabrini’s Fine Italian Dining was located in a small village instead of New York City or Chicago. Mike was a big-fish-in-a-tiny-pond kind of guy.

  He certainly wouldn’t want Rosa to be the star. He wouldn’t want to take the chance that she’d outshine him.

  “You’ll be a great TV cook,” Katie said. “You’re beautiful, sexy, funny and a wonderful cook.”

  Rosa’s mouth straightened and she seemed to pull inward and stand taller. “I’m not as young as I once was.”

  “No one is as young as they once were. You’re only, what, forty-something?”

  “Forty-something will do.”

  “Whatever, you’re still gorgeous. You’ll be gorgeous when you’re in your sixties. In your eighties, even.”

  Rosa’s shoulders relaxed and she laughed, low and throaty. She patted Katie’s cheek. “You’re good for my heart.” She glanced past her at the kitchen. “And you’ll be good for my cooking show.”

  “You want me to do prep work?” Katie’s stomach tightened. She supposed she could find time from her pie making business, but only if Rosa filmed the show in Miracle.

  “We’ll be a team.” Rosa motioned with both hands. “You’re young and attractive, and you have a good figure. More important, you make wonderful pies. I’ll demonstrate how to make Italian food, and you demonstrate how you make pies.”

  “You want me to be on your show?” Katie heard her voice rise into a squeak. “I’m too tall and gangly.” Like a tall ship floundering in the ocean, a friend’s cousin from Eau Claire had said when she was fifteen. For weeks afterward, she’d tried to walk like the other girls. Small steps instead of long, fast strides that took her to her objective.

  She finally realized she didn’t want to change. Her walk reflected who she was.

  At least she wasn’t one person lost in a crowd of look-alikes.

  And she wasn’t on TV, either.

  “You need to find someone else.”

  Chapter Two

  Oh oh. Katie took a step back and crossed her arms, as if they could ward off the look Rosa was giving her. The one her sons called The Stare.

  “I remember when you first came to Miracle,” Rosa said. “I came to the farm to pick up eggs. Your dad was so proud of you. If someone had given him a choice of you or a diamond the size of his fist, he wouldn’t have given the diamond a second glance.”

  Katie closed her eyes, the memories rushing back. Giving her a warm ache.

  “You were so quiet and shy,” Rosa continued. “And me with two rambunctious little boys. I was so jealous of Sam. I hugged you and whispered that you were the prettiest girl. You looked at me with your eyes wide and round, as if you didn’t believe it. All these years later, you still have that same lost look.”

  Katie snapped her eyelids up. “I have a wonderful life.”

  “Yes, like a swaddled baby. You’re not taking risks. You’re not moving beyond your comfort zone.”

  “I like my comfort zone. I’m happy in it.”

  Rosa looked at her pityingly. “The problem with comfort zones is that they keep shrinking, and after a while you shrink with them.”

  “My business is doing really well.” Katie crossed her arms. She wasn’t used to defending her choices and didn’t like it.

  “I’m just doing a pilot,” Rosa said, her voice compelling. “It might be just a onetime thing. If I don’t sell it to any TV stations, I won’t make anymore.” Her gaze held Katie’s. “That’s why I need you to help make it a success. A show with two women will get more attention. And to be honest, I need your kitchen.”

  Katie glanced around at the shining industrial kitchen that her dad had built after her grandmother had gone on to the much bigger cottage in the sky.

  “I know I’m being selfish—” Rosa’s voice cracked and her shoulders slumped. She sighed. “Never mind. I’ll find another way. It’s wrong to try to bully you into it.”

  She started to turn away, and Katie felt ashamed for making such a drama. Sure, she baked pies for friends, but that was as easy for her as breathing. If she couldn’t handle a little discomfort to help Rosa out of a dark spot in her life, that meant she wasn’t much of as friend.

  “Okay, I’ll do it. But if I really hate it or I’m awful, I won’t do any more.”

  Rosa swung back, a smile lighting up her face as if she’d just won a Powerball lottery. “Wonderful! And you’ll be stupendous.”

  “Don’t get too excited.” Katie frowned. “I don’t have your charisma. You’re perfect for a show like that. You have magic inside you.”

  “You have magic in your pies.”

  “The viewers won’t be eating my pies. They’ll be watching me make them.”

  “Don’t devalue yourself.” Rosa stood with her spine straight, like a soldier ready for battle. “We are women, and we are fabulous. Men should be lucky they have us.”

  “If you say so. Will you have my pie now?”

  “It will be my pleasure.” Rosa swung her hands out. “Your pies are ambrosia. Food of the Gods.”

  Rosa went on to say she was calling the producer-director, a nephew of someone she knew. Nodding, Katie took the pie out of the fridge. In its glass pie plate, she saw the layers of chocolate and cream topping. Just looking at it, without even taking a bite, she felt a transfusion of energy. As if it was sending out waves of love and vitality.

  Katie hoped they were heading straight to Rosa who was at the table already, the cell phone to her ear as she talked, her voice low and intense. At the counter, Katie cut the pie while Rosa perched on a chair, still talking, her face animated, her brown eyes glowing. Katie brought the pie and forks to the table.

  “Just one pilot,” Rosa was saying. “If it works out, when I sell it I’ll see if you can film them. Once you get here, we can talk some more.”

  There was silence for a moment, then Rosa gave him her address and hung up. “He’ll be here in two days.”

  Katie sat across from Katie, not saying anything. She wasn’t sure how she felt about this.

  Rosa picked up the fork, the expression on her face different now. Ravenous. As if she’d been starved for days. For years. As if the pie symbolized all the good that she’d missed.

  She chewed the first bite with her lids down and a look of bliss on her face. When she swallowed, she opened her eyes. “That was like biting into a tiny piece of heaven.”

  Katie’s body hummed with quiet contentment, and she took another bite of her pie.

  “You know what this pie tells me?” Rose shook her fork at her plate.

  “That a good pie is worth more than a bad husband?”

  Rosa laughed. “It’s probably true, but it tells me that life is still filled with delicious possibilities, and I can do anything I set my mind on doing.”

  Kati
e used the side of her fork to cut off another piece. “My pies are very smart.”

  “But that’s not all it tells me.”

  Katie raised her eyebrows. “And my pies are talkative.”

  “It’s the truth.” Rosa raised her fork with a bite of pie into the air, as if in a salute. “It’s telling me that both our lives are going to change for the better.” Only then did Rosa take a second bite, her gaze still on Katie.

  Katie shivered with a chill she felt in her gut. Changes were like chain reactions. Once they started, anything could happen. Including blowing up in their faces.

  Chapter Three

  Shoving his Chicago Bears sweatshirt in the suitcase as fast as he could, Gabe thought in song titles: Breaking Up is Hard to Do even when it was never True Love but Just One of Those Things.

  Too bad One of Those Things wanted to kick him in a vulnerable spot right now.

  “You. Can’t. Fucking. Do. This.” Cherise stood over him in the condo they shared that had almost a Lake Michigan view. A tiny blue slice out the front window that gave Cherise bragging rights.

  He continued to pack though the air shuddered with her vibrations of anger. With her shiny black hair coiled tightly in a bun and her even tighter body, she made Gabe think of a stripper about to shake her hair loose then tear off her pencil skirt and matching top as she strutted across a stage.

  Only that hadn’t happened in the three years he’d known her and the eleven months he’d lived with her.

  If it had, she might not be so easy to leave. He was after all, a man, and was shallow that way.

  Then he thought of the picture of the two women his uncle sent him. The older one with the body that Gabe’s uncle called “va-va-voom” was fully dressed but his uncle was right about her curves. And her face had a strong bone structure that would appeal to women as well as men. The younger one, with startled eyes, parted lips, and brown hair pulled up in a ponytail, made him think of a mermaid stranded on dry land.