Pie Town - Lynne Hinton [110]
And taking a branch of lavender and dipping it in the same water he had used to baptize Alexandria, he sprinkled drops upon the heads of all who were gathered and then, with great authority and vigor, exclaimed, “Now, let us eat!”
The party, the First Annual Pie Town Festival of Holy Family, held under tents in front of the church, went on for hours and late into the evening, when the old ones drifted off and the young ones fell asleep on blankets near the feet of their mothers. A band played salsa and cowboy ballads. Oris spoke of his love for his daughter and toasted his newly declared but long-ago received son. He even danced a slow song with Fedora Snow, whispering something in the old woman’s ear that made her blush and kick him in the shin.
There was green chile stew and tortillas, cornbread, fresh tamales and tostadas, natillas and flan, and much to everyone’s surprise, lots of pies, including the unanimously declared winner of the pie contest, Francine’s Banana Cream Pie. One bite and Bernie King was reconsidering his original notion not to become involved with her while Fred and Bea suddenly realized they could actually rethink their dessert menu at the diner.
“It seems as if,” they said after declaring Francine the winner, “Pie Town will finally and once again serve pie!” And they presented her with the blue ribbon and immediately discussed a promotion and raise with their new dessert chef.
Just as things were winding down, Trina left Alexandria with Danny and Christine, who was proudly flashing an engagement ring of her own. The young mother took a few flowers from the centerpiece from the bride and groom’s table and walked to the back of the church to see where a special plaque in Alex’s memory had been placed. It was a small designated area behind the sanctuary, a little space where spring bulbs were planted and a small marker stood naming the boy and recalling his faith. It was a perfect square of memory. She stood alone and then dropped to her knees. “I wish you could have met Alexandria,” she said as she placed the flowers in front of the plaque. “You would have liked her.” She stayed kneeling as she was. “She’s a funny girl.” Trina glanced down. “Your mom came by to see me,” she added. “Not long after you died. Not long after I got back.” She smiled. “I like her. She seems to be getting herself together.” She sighed and pulled her knees out from under her and sat down. She looked up at the sky. “You did good, Alex Benavidez. This town, me, George, Alexandria, Roger, Malene, your mom . . .” Trina paused. “You did good.” Just as she spoke these words, she reached down to remove a small rock close to her feet and felt two feathers drop right beside where she sat. She picked them up, holding them both in her hands.
She stayed where she was for a minute, smiling. She then got up and walked over to Father George, who was dancing the rumba with Millie Watson. Sticking a feather behind her ear, Trina took the other and placed it in his front pocket. He reached for it and seeing it, seeing what it was, knowing where it came from and what it meant, surprised everyone, including himself, when he threw back his head, held the feather next to his heart, and laughed right out loud.
Chapter Forty-three
Look, Lady,” he said, using the name he still gave his great-grandmother, even though she had given him other ways to call her. “It landed right where she sat, right beside her.” The boy smiled and flipped, tumbling across the breeze. “I knew this would work out,” he said as the woman drifted behind him. “I knew he could make them come together and that she should be here. I knew the two of them were meant to be married and that she would have a daughter. I knew this town could pull it off, even if you did have to nudge a little.”
“Only a little,” she said and smiled. “You are