1105 Yakima Street - Debbie Macomber [97]
Rachel must have said something, because his daughter was silent for a moment.
“No, not yet. Dad got a pumpkin pie with the turkey.” A short silence and then, “It was all right, I guess, for turkey, but last year’s was way better. The stuffing was pretty bland. I like yours a lot more.”
Bruce relaxed. They were having a normal conversation. “I like pecan pie and so does Dad,” she said next. “Sure. I’ll tell him. Bye.”
She replaced the phone. “That was Rachel,” she said, as if he didn’t already know.
“So, is she coming by?” He tried to sound casual. Nonchalant.
“Yeah, in about an hour. She said we should get started on the puzzle and get all the border pieces in and then she’d help us with the rest. Oh, and she’s bringing a pecan pie. We have whipped topping, don’t we? Because I told her we did.”
“I think so. If not, there’s ice cream.”
“Dad,” his daughter said in an exasperated voice. “We have strawberry ice cream. That would be awful with pecan pie.”
“Hey, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”
Jolene rolled her eyes, but she was smiling and so was he. Really smiling for the first time that day, and it felt darn good.
Thirty
“It’s so good to get back into our regular schedule,” Grace said as she slid into the booth at the Pancake Palace. She and Olivia had finished their aerobic workout—a Wednesday-night tradition for years—and stopped for coffee and coconut cream pie. Another tradition.
Their schedule had been disrupted for months after Olivia’s surgery for breast cancer and the chemotherapy and radiation treatments that followed. She’d lost weight and grown so weak that for a time Grace had feared her best friend might not survive. If there were lessons to be learned from this experience—and there were—one of the most profound was how dear Olivia was to her. How important their friendship was. Grace treasured her and their special times together. Every week they made a point of catching up with each other. They’d shared so much through the years. Grace relied on Olivia to sympathize when necessary, to tell her the truth and to laugh with her. And Olivia expected the same from Grace. They’d seen each other through births and deaths, marriage and divorce, triumphs and disappointments.
“Coffee, girls?” Goldie asked as she sidled up to the booth.
“Tea for me,” Olivia said, surprising both Grace and Goldie.
“Tea?” Goldie echoed. “When did this happen?”
Olivia shrugged. “Coffee leaves a bitter taste in my mouth these days. I don’t know if it’s because of the prescriptions I’m taking or what, but I prefer tea now.”
Goldie snorted, shook her head and, after pouring Grace’s coffee, returned to the kitchen.
“You usually order tea when there’s something on your mind,” Grace said, studying Olivia. Her friend had been unusually quiet all evening.
“I guess so, but I really have gone off coffee.”
“You’re the one who told me you’ve had the most important conversations of your life over tea, remember?”
“Yes, I suppose I have. Most of them in the kitchen. My mother’s or mine.” She thought for a moment. “Conversations with my mother. With Stan. With Justine.” She smiled. “Jack and I have had some of the most intimate discussions of our marriage in the kitchen. Funny, isn’t it, that the kitchen and a cup of tea would play such a major role in my life?”
“Maybe because it’s such a comfortable setting. So personal,” Grace said. “Anyway, what’s on your mind tonight?” She couldn’t see any reason not to be direct.
Olivia leaned forward to reply, but didn’t have a chance before Goldie came back with a small white ceramic teapot and a tea bag on the side. “I thought I’d better ask if you’re ordering coconut cream pie or if that’s changed, too.”
“I’ll have coconut cream pie,” Grace said. This was her one indulgence of the week and she wasn’t about to give it up.
“What other kinds do you have?” Olivia asked.
Grace had to bite her lip to keep from giggling at Goldie’s horrified reaction. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she burst out. “Now you’re quitting coconut cream pie, too? What are those drugs doing