Page 12 of Yours To Take
“Hi.” I try to hide the confusion in my voice, but I must not do a good job of it.
“Is that how you welcome someone to your home? Your momma must not have taught you right.”
“That’s a conversation for another day.” I give her my biggest smile, trying to steer the conversation away from the topic of my mother. That will do nothing to help me start writing.
“I heard you were going to be staying around these parts awhile and I wanted to welcome you to town.” Her smile brightens even more.
“I am.” I extend my hand to her. “Blake Travers.”
“Oh, like the famous movie star?” she asks, shifting the dish to her left hand and shaking mine.
Of course this woman would recognize the name.
“That’s my mother.” I can’t fight the grimace on my face.
“Well, with a face like that, I bet you’re in the movies too.”
“Not quite. I write them.”
“That’s fascinating.” She shifts the pie dish she’s holding from one hand to the other. “Are you going to make a little old lady stand out here all day, or will you invite me in?”
“Shit, sorry.” I grab the dish from her hand and push open the door to the cabin.
“Not a worry, darling.” She pats me on the face as she walks inside. “Maybe we can share a slice.”
“Only if you introduce yourself to me.”
“Heavens.” She pats her graying hair down. “Here I am criticizing your manners, but I haven’t introduced myself. Mrs. Phillips. I make the best pie in town.”
“You do?”
She points her finger at me. “Don’t let anyone here tell you otherwise.”
“Okay.” Grabbing two plates from the open shelf, I take a knife off the counter and slice into the blueberry pie. “Is there someone else I need to watch out for?”
I hand her a slice. She takes it eagerly.
“That Mrs. Reynolds will try to push her pie on you. Just know I delivered mine first.”
I take a large bite, trying not to get in the middle of a pie debate. Except, this pie is pretty damn delectable.
Mrs. Phillips points her fork at me. “See? You like it.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything so delicious.”
Her smile is smug. “Like I said, best pie in all of Dixon.”
“I appreciate you stopping by. How’d you know I was even here?”
“I know everything that happens in Dixon.”
“I don’t doubt that.” I shovel another forkful in my mouth.
“Has the town been welcoming?”
It doesn’t surprise me that this woman is the one here dropping off a pie. Even though she recognized the Travers name, she couldn’t care less as to who I am.
Quite the change from being wanted for that name alone.
