The Half-Eaten Pie
{Originally posted on Slouching Past 40.}
Carol was prissy.
Years of living alone had cemented the fact. Without Charlie around to raise his eyebrows, a bit mockingly but largely affectionately, she’d begun to give in to some of her more obsessive tendencies — like taking Charlie’s shirts to the dry cleaners every so often so that they wouldn’t smell dusty. She could not abide that smell of disuse. Or washing the car once a week, even if she’d used it only once, when she’d had to take Penfield to the vet for his shots.
Charlie had brought levity to her table, that’s why she had married him, and without him, she’d grown rigid. A prankster, Charlie had been, and though now and then his immaturity had caused her to throw up her hands, secretly she adored it. He’d always made her feel young, and light.
Until that evening in September when he’d groaned at the dinner table. Thinking he was joking — he always was! — Carol rolled her eyes and issued her standard, “Oh, Charlie.” But for once he wasn’t fooling around. He died right there, still in the middle of eating his pie, and only fifty-six years old. When Carol flashed on the scene, she didn’t see Charlie. She saw his pie, and the forlorn way Mrs. Smith’s apples sat on the plate never failed to make her weep, even now, almost a decade after Charlie’s passing.
She was in the supermarket inspecting eggs for cracks when Charlie’s unfinished pie came to mind. The image, unbidden, unwelcome, still so vivid, flustered her. With trembling hands she picked up egg carton after egg carton but couldn’t find one that had twelve perfect eggs, eggs without fissures or breaks, eggs that didn’t look half-eaten like Charlie’s pie — damn him, couldn’t he have just finished that pie? She was breathless and red in the face when she felt someone behind her. She turned to find a seventy-something man, his beard and hair salt-and-pepper, his eyes bright and mischievous, his physique not trim, exactly, but no worse than her own.
“Cracked eggs make better omelettes, didn’t you know that? It’s in all the finest cookbooks. I always choose the carton with the MOST broken eggs. Sometimes I even help a little.”
With that he grabbed a carton and started tapping its eggs, one by one, on the rim of the supermarket shelf, until all twelve of them were broken. Then he tossed — tossed! — the carton into his basket. And directed a lopsided, boyish grin at her. With his eyes he challenged her to react.
Carol’s mouth hung open. Charlie was back! She smiled coquettishly and turned to the freezer behind her, gesturing down the aisle towards the frozen desserts.
“If you’ll make me that omelette,” she said, “I’ll bake a pie.”
Editor’s Pick by Catnip at Catnip and Coffee. I’ve been a huge fan of Slouching Mom for a long time - from way back when I was a lurker and she was still Slouching Towards 40! Recently I realized she writes fiction too - and that just made her even better. This bittersweet piece is lovely, just as Slouchy is. Don’t forget to subscribe to her feed, check out her favorites in her sidebar, and follow her on twitter.
Editor
catnip
|
February 26th, 2009
|
Category:
Author- Slouching Mom, Channel-Fiction and Poetry, Editor- Catnip, Featured 1, Thursday 1, fiction, short story
|
i loved this the first time i read it and love it now, too.
Love this. You have a beautiful gift, Sarah.
Jennifer Harveys last blog post..Soundtrack
You’re a great writer, Sarah!
All Adithers last blog post..A sinister green
Love this!!
Ohhhh. I missed this on your blog. Totally love it
Ashlie- Mommycosms last blog post..The Us Factor by Joseph Melnick, Ph. D. - Lesson 1a - Becoming Aware of the Habits in Your Relationship
That was sad and sweet and the same time. i hope they had pie and omelets together?
inthefastlanes last blog post..So Tired
Sweet.
I missed this the first time around. What a wonderful story.
Janets last blog post..Bits and Pieces for a Rainy Thursday
hA! Really, a big ole belly HA! (I’m glad she was pissed about the pie. That is just how she’d be!)
Loads of fun.
Woman in a windows last blog post..A THAILAND ALLEY
I just delighted in reading this again. I can completely feel her mood lifting at the end!
Yes, I too loved it the first time — and AGAIN!
Life in Edens last blog post..Simple Math