Peach Pies and Alibis (35 page)

Ella Mae laughed. “She wasn’t, though I don’t think it would have bothered her much.
Her doctor wanted her to stay another day and she wouldn’t hear of it, so she swiped
some scrubs and took off.”

“The billing department will find her easily enough,” Hugh said, opening his eyes
and looking at her. “But I’m glad she’s okay. I know how close you two are.”

Ella Mae nodded. “She’s like a second mother to me.” Instantly regretting her choice
of words, she fished around for a change of subject. She didn’t want Hugh to know
that her mother wasn’t around, and she wasn’t ready to spread the tale she and her
aunts had concocted over breakfast. Come Monday, they’d let it be known that Adelaide
LeFaye had embarked on a lengthy tour of the world’s most memorable gardens. She was
traveling alone and planned to spend a considerable time away from Havenwood.

“Give me a year to search for this flower,” Ella Mae had pleaded over her untouched
plate of bacon and eggs. “After that, you can make up whatever story you want to explain
why she doesn’t come home. If I fail, that’s what we’ll be forced to do, right? Pretend
that she’s died?”

Verena had nodded glumly.

“We won’t need to create a fictional skiing accident or car crash. I’m going to bring
her back,” Ella Mae vowed. “You’ll see.”

“Hey,” Hugh said, pulling her into the present by laying his hand lightly over hers.
“You drifted away for a bit.”

She smiled at him. “Sorry. I’m really worn out.”

With his free hand, he placed the small basket on her lap. “These are for you. They’re
the last of the season. I thought you could make a few pies that’ll taste like summer.”

Ella Mae folded a checkered dishtowel back to reveal the round curves of a dozen peaches.
The aroma of sunlight and sweetness curled around her, warming her like a shawl draped
over her shoulders. She rubbed her thumb across their silky skins. “They’re lovely,”
she said. “And I have enough for two or three pies.”

“Don’t bake one for me,” he said. “Don’t do anything for me. Let me spoil you a little.
I’d still like to take you on that date we never got to go on. You’re done with Sloan.
I’m done with Loralyn. The world makes more sense when I’m with you. Everything’s
better. Anything’s possible. Let’s give it a shot. Say yes, Ella Mae. Be with me.”
He squeezed her hand and looked at her with his bright blue eyes. His stare was so
intense that she felt he could see right into her heart.

Powerless to say anything else, she whispered yes. He leaned over and kissed her.
It was a soft and tender kiss that spoke of more than just desire. It was a kiss promising
long walks and shared meals and endless hours curled up together on the sofa watching
old movies. Ella Mae believed in the kiss. She believed in Hugh.

Tracing his jaw with her fingertip, she said, “Can we keep things rated PG until I’m
officially divorced? I’d like to do this right.”

He nuzzled her neck, planting a featherlight kiss on the
soft skin just below her ear. “Make it PG-thirteen and you have a deal.”

She gently pushed him away. “And we have to protect what we’re trying to build. You
need to avoid Loralyn and I need to stay as far away from Sloan as possible. They’re
a part of our past. Let’s leave them there.” Ella Mae didn’t mention the stunning
floral arrangement she’d received from Opal and Loralyn Gaynor. According to the note,
the bouquet of star-of-Bethlehem flowers was meant to symbolize reconciliation between
the two families. Now that the Lady of the Ash was a LeFaye, even the Gaynors were
forced to be respectful and courteous. Ella Mae had read the note, written in Loralyn’s
elegant script, over and over again, hoping that the sentiment was genuine. She’d
like to have the discord between the two families become nothing more than a bad memory.

Hugh slid his arm around Ella Mae, making her forget all about Loralyn. “I agree,”
he said. “From this moment on, we only look ahead.”

With their fingers entwined, Hugh and Ella Mae watched a pair of mallards skim over
the surface of the lake. The male and female ducks coasted above the water in perfect
unison, strong and graceful as two dancers moving in time to the same music. As the
ducks approached the shore, they veered to the south and abruptly rose higher into
the sky. They quacked once and flew off toward the cloudless blue horizon.

Hugh looked at Ella Mae, his eyes glimmering with happiness. “It’s like they’re saying,
‘Here we go.’”

“Yes.” Smiling, she cupped his face in her palms and drew his lips down to meet hers.
“Here we go.”

Ella Mae spent the afternoon in the grove, nestled at the foot of the ash tree that
was her mother.

There were no signs of last night’s celebration, and the silvery glow had given way
to a soft yellow light. The clearing below the rise where Ella Mae sat was no longer
a circle of tidy grass, but an entanglement of wildflowers. Bees and butterflies darted
in and out of the sea of blooms while hummingbirds hovered over the brightest petals.
Reba had been right when she said that her mother was in every part of the grove.

It had felt strange at first—to rest her back against the ash tree’s bark and start
talking, as if her mother could engage in normal conversation. But after a while,
Ella Mae got used to speaking without expecting a reply. She knew her mother was listening,
so she told her about Suzy’s visit and how she and her friend planned to research
the Clover Queen and the Flower of Life.

After that, she took out a notebook and a pile of the latest
food magazines and created a menu for the week ahead. “It’s apple season,” she said.
“Apple caramel pie, apple ginger crumble pie, apple cheesecake pie, apple pie with
a cheddar cheese crust…” she trailed off, thinking of the golden peaches Hugh had
brought her.

Guard your heart,
her mother whispered, and Ella Mae wondered if she could now read her mind.

“I’m going to be very careful this time around,” she promised. “When I think about
what my life would have been like had I stayed in New York…” She pushed away the anger
that bubbled up inside. “Those redhead twins did me a favor. If not for them, I wouldn’t
have known that I was living a lie—that my real life had yet to begin.” Glancing upward,
she studied the bits of clear blue sky peeking through the tree leaves. “I need to
be smarter too. I hired a Shadow Child to work in my pie shop, for crying out loud.
But I’m not innocent anymore, and I think that these things have happened for a reason,
no matter how much they’ve hurt me. I’ve got to believe that I’m going to grow and
blossom like one of your roses—that it’ll all be okay in the end.”

A leaf detached from one of the lower branches and floated downward, brushing against
Ella Mae’s cheek like a kiss.

Don’t come to me too often. Go discover your destiny.

“Yes. That’s the word.” Ella Mae pressed the side of her face against the ash tree’s
trunk. “Destiny.” She could hear a muted hum inside the bark. It sounded like a distant
heartbeat. Ella Mae liked its steady, comforting rhythm. “I won’t fail you, Mom. I’m
going to change things for all of us.”

Other than the rustle of the wind through the leaves, the grove was silent. Ella Mae
knew it was time to get started on the promises she’d made, so she drew in a deep
breath of her mother’s scent of moonlight and roses, and said good-bye.

The days passed. Ella Mae continued to bake pies and Reba continued to serve them.
The shop was busier than ever, but Ella Mae refrained from placing an ad in the
Daily
. She and Reba simply let it be known to their regular customers that Maurelle had
suddenly quit and The Charmed Pie Shoppe needed a new waitress. By the end of the
week, people Ella Mae barely knew began to show at first light, volunteering to take
Maurelle’s shifts for a day or two.

“To express our gratitude,” they’d whisper, and she knew they were referring to her
mother’s sacrifice.

She accepted their offers. Not only did she need the help, but Ella Mae also enjoyed
growing closer to more of her kind. None of them behaved differently from the non-magical
folk of Havenwood, and yet she felt a connection to those who’d been at the harvest.
It was as if they were joined by invisible threads—wispy and delicate as dragonfly
wings. She liked the idea of being a member of this secret society. It lessened her
loneliness and assuaged her grief.

Her aunts didn’t give her many opportunities to mope. They were constant visitors
at both The Charmed Pie Shoppe and Partridge Hill, and Suzy would often show up at
Ella Mae’s guest cottage after her workday was over, Jasmine in tow. The poodle would
romp through Adelaide’s gardens, Chewy trotting happily at her side, while Suzy and
Ella Mae sat in the sunroom, poring over books, scrolls, and old documents.

And then there was Hugh. He took Ella Mae on Sunday afternoon hikes, to quiet, casual
dinners, or to the movies on Saturday nights. He’d show up unannounced on weekday
evenings too, bearing a bottle of wine and Chinese takeout. After building a fire
in the guest cottage’s tiny living room, he’d pour the wine and hand Ella Mae a plate
loaded with
kung pao chicken, ginger beef, spring rolls, and steamed broccoli. They’d eat on the
sofa, Ella Mae’s legs thrown over his, and talk about the day.

Despite all the company and attention, Ella Mae missed her mother. She went to the
grove when she could, but there were days when her mother didn’t speak to her at all.

“It’s as if she’s asleep,” she told her aunts one evening as they supped on Reba’s
spaghetti Bolognese. “I can sense her in there, but she can’t respond. It’s like she’s
dreaming or something.”

Dee gave her a sympathetic look. “You have to remember that she is part of the tree
now. Who knows what it means to be an enchanted tree?”

“I think Ella Mae has it right,” Sissy said and put her hands over her heart in a
typically theatrical gesture. “Adelaide
is
dreaming.”

“It’s not like she has to be on a schedule!” Verena bellowed. “The rhythms of nature
are not the same as ours. Adelaide’s tuned into primeval things we can’t even begin
to imagine!”

Passing a basket of garlic bread to Reba, Dee said, “I wonder what she sees, what
she’s experiencing.”

“It must be a bit like Ella Mae’s butterfly vision, don’t ya think?” Reba said and
motioned for Sissy to hand over the carafe of red wine. “How far could you travel
through their eyes?”

Ella Mae shrugged. “I have no idea. I haven’t needed to see beyond Havenwood yet,
but with the way things have been going, I wouldn’t be surprised if I needed to fly
to all kinds of strange places in the future.”

The women talked about the foreign countries they hoped to visit one day, until they
heard the rumble of a familiar engine. Ella Mae wiped her mouth with a napkin and
stood up.

“That must be my Jeep,” she said. “I dropped it off to be
serviced this morning, and Noel and Kelly told me they’d drive it back for me. They
went out to celebrate the new business Noel reeled in from a huge garden center in
Atlanta.”

“The boy’s doin’ a fine job,” Reba added. “Adelaide will be pleased to know that her
darlin’ plants are in good hands.”

Ella Mae nodded. “I’ll ask them to join us for dessert. I made two pear and almond
tarts.”

Verena put her fork down. “Just two?”

Ella Mae paused on her way to the back door and called to Verena over her shoulder.
“Don’t worry! I bought two gallons of vanilla ice cream to go with the tarts.”

Stepping into the lavender twilight, Ella Mae walked through the fragrant herb garden
and crossed the lawn dividing the main house from the guest cottage. When she reached
the driveway, she rushed over to her Jeep, shouting in delight.

“Wow!” she cried. “Look at you!”

The faded white paint had been replaced by a pink raspberry hue that matched The Charmed
Pie Shoppe’s front door. Across the side, the name, location, and phone number of
the shop had been written in curly, butter yellow font. Ella Mae’s favorite detail
was the luscious cherry pie occupying the Jeep’s rear panel. The pie had a golden
lattice crust from which sugar crystals glistened like tiny pieces of ice and looked
good enough to eat.