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Fiona
They sounded like a flock of guinea hens coming up her walk. Without moving the curtain, lest they see it and be encouraged to approach, Fiona eyed them at an angle. Seven of them. They looked about her age, but some of them were moving quite well. Only one had a cane. One of them carried a pie.
What was it with these Christians and their pies? Was that in the Bible somewhere? Was there a pie commandment?
One of them tapped softly on her door.
“Is someone at the door?” Emma called from the couch.
“No! And hush!”
Emma came to stand beside her. “Who is it?” she whispered.
“I’m assuming it’s your church friends. They have pie.”
“Oh!” She stepped toward the door, but Fiona caught her arm.
“Don’t you dare!”
Emma looked at her with wide, innocent eyes. “What?”
“You told them about me and you brought them here, but I will not let you encourage this further by opening the door!”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake!” an unpleasant voice came from outside. “You’ve got to knock louder than that!” Someone pounded.
“You’ll break the door, Vicky!”
“I didn’t tell them about you!” Emma whispered.
Fiona looked around. “Where’s your mother?”
“I don’t know. I just woke up.”
It was true. She had just woken up, though it was past eleven.
“I’m guessing she’s in the backyard.”
This was probably also true. Tonya had been spending a lot of time in the backyard lately, reading her Bible. Fiona didn’t understand how anyone could read the same book over and over again.
“Let’s go,” one of the women said. “She’s probably not going to answer.”
“Are we sure she’s home?”
“Tonya said she’s always home.”
Aha! So it was Tonya who had ratted her out!
“All right, well, set the pie down.”
“Set it down where?”
“Right there!”
“Critters will get to it!”
“Well, what are you going to do, carry it back to the church?”
Emma looked at her imploringly. “Please let me open the door.”
“No! It’s not worth it!”
“Put the pie down now!”
“Fine.”
There was a scuffling, and then, “But don’t cry to me if some stray cat gets into the pie.” Her voice faded as she spoke.
“Cats don’t eat pie!”
“Stray cats will eat anything ...”
Fiona could still hear them, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying. She pulled the curtain back. “I’ll be darned.”
“What?”
“They’re taking your shortcut.” She let the curtain fall shut. “Go ahead. Go get the pie.”
Emma hurried to the door.
“But don’t you dare call to them!”
Emma did as she was told, and soon there was yet another pie on Fiona’s kitchen table. “It’s still warm.” Emma looked up at her. “Pie for breakfast?”
“Breakfast? It’s lunchtime! And yes, pie for lunch. Why don’t you go ask your mother if she wants some? I’ll find the slicer.”
Emma went through the back door and returned within seconds with her mother in tow. Tonya clutched a giant worn Bible.
Fiona tried to hide how annoying this was. She didn’t know why it bothered her that the woman was suddenly obsessed with the ancient myth-filled book, but it did. And Tonya was acting differently too. Fiona didn’t know if it was because of all the Bible-reading. She realized Tonya was watching her and forced a smile. “Pie?”
“I hear the entire church brought you a pie?”
Fiona nodded. “A whole gaggle of ’em.”
Tonya chuckled. “I’m sorry I missed them.”
Fiona wasn’t. She might not have been able to stop Tonya from opening the door. And then where would she be? Trapped in her own house with a kitchen full of guinea hens.
“You okay?” Tonya asked, her brow worried.
“Absolutely.” She sliced into the pie, and her mouth watered. She might be annoyed that those women came to her door, but that didn’t mean she had to let homemade pie go to waste. “Looks like strawberry rhubarb. That’s great news.” She slid the first slice over to Emma, who had settled in at the table. “You might want some milk to go with it.” She glanced up at Tonya. “Unless you’d rather have tea?”
“Great idea. I’ll make some.” She went to the stove while Fiona cut her a slice and then another for herself.
She sat down and started in. It was, as she’d anticipated, heavenly.
“You know, Fiona,” Tonya started.
Here it comes.
“I think you’d really like some of those women. They’re pretty spunky.”
She tried to focus on how good her pie was, but it was suddenly less pleasurable.
“Maybe you’d come to church with us, just once? We could flank you on either side, protect you.”
Fiona dropped her fork. “I can protect myself, thank you.”
“Of course you can,” Tonya said quickly. “I didn’t mean to suggest you couldn’t. I just wanted you to know we’d have your back.” Her phone rang and she reached for her pocket. The tea kettle started to whistle, but she ignored it. “Hello?”
Fiona felt sorry for the person on the other end of the line, having to contend with that whistle.
Tonya listened carefully, said, “Yes, yes, absolutely, okay, and thank you,” and then hung up. She looked at Fiona and Emma with wide eyes. “That was the school. I have an interview.”
Fiona pushed her plate away. She’d lost her appetite.
