The Last Piece
By Libby Mitchell
I closed the door as Aunt Beulah’s fat ass barely missed getting caught in the heavy antique door jamb. Leaning my head against it, I could feel the void left behind and I relished it. They were all gone, done paying their respects.
I could hear the shower upstairs. Beau was probably getting ready for a big night out with Bobby Sue or Linda Rae. At least they would help him to forget…at least for a night.
I walked into the dining room, overflowing with food from the wake. Callie looked up mid bite of Cathy Middleton’s chicken wings. My eyebrow raised.
“What? I’m hungry, damn it. It was a damn long sermon.”
I grinned back at her.
“Gran would have loved it.”
“Your grandma would have found most of those hypocritical fools stuffed full of it and let them know.”
I nodded as I stuck my finger in the pecan pie. I put my finger in my mouth and closed my eyes.
“Damn that’s good pie. Why does everyone wait until someone’s dead to bring out the best of themselves?”
“Hell, if I know. You remember when my Aunt Mitzie passed? Half the county came over and most of them just to see the house. She never cared for any of them while she was alive — called them gossipy little hens. Brought the best casseroles out as if it was payment for getting to see what she never wanted them to. That included some cousins who tried to walk away with the silver.”
“Your Mama kicked them on out the door.”
“Damned straight.”
We had been friends since we were in kindergarten. Her mom was the only single, black woman at the church. Grannie saw someone turn their back to her and marched right on over and introduced herself. No one ever turned a blind eye to Miss Williams again. Families mean so much.
Gran took us in after my mom died and my dad left. He couldn’t deal with her loss. We got a call on day about five years ago They found him at the lake, bowed over his fishing pole. His heart had given out. I believe his heart gave out years earlier.
Thank goodness, Gran had love coming out of her pores and I’m grateful every day she was here for me.
Callie caught me mid thought.
“I’ll finish cleaning up here. What do you want to do with all this extra food?”
I thought for a second and looked around our kitchen and dining room. More than enough food for an army.
“Come to think of it, let’s send it over to Jolene Thomas, Misty Johnson, and Sarah Smith. They got all those kids and their husbands furloughed.”
“You know they’ll be more mouths to feed in nine months.”
“Callie Williams!”
“Just saying.”
“Well, they could use some extra food. Gran kept like a thousand years worth of tupperware so let’s pack it up and get it over to them.”
I took a step toward the kitchen, but Callie put her hand on my arm.
“I’ll put it up and take it over. You go take a bath and relax. Now…I’m not saying it twice.”
As if she gave me permission, the last three days hit me. Coming home to find Gran in her chair, eyes unfocused, a blue ball of yarn unrolled across the floor.
The ambulance, hospital, doctors, and final goodbyes were foggy. A disconnected line where it seemed to belong to someone outside of myself. I heard everything as in a long tunnel.
Sighing, I took a step back, right into Beau; his hair still wet.
“Already handled, Callie. Even added lavender oil you like.”
Tears welled up.
“Now, don’t go doing that. I’ve been you’re big brother for twenty five years and I do know how to run a woman a bath.”
“You’re my big brother by exactly two minutes and twenty three seconds.”
I rubbed at my eyes.
“But I do appreciate it. Thank you all.”
I headed toward the stairs, looking back. Gran had high hopes in high school those two would have been a couple. Callie’s forthright nature bowled over Beau’s easy side, ending in an argument.
While Callie started packing up the food, Beau gave Callie his hand and she let him hug her.
Shrugging, I headed up the stairs where the bath awaited.
Amazing what a soak and nap will do. I came back down to the kitchen and dining room spotless. The house creaked in its bones and it was the only sound. I was alone.
I opened the fridge and saw a few of the tupperware bowls Callie had put aside for Beau and me. I took a step back and looked around the room, making sure no one was there, and reached back in.
I pushed aside the milk and the week old dish of Beau’s latest culinary experiment.
There it was, it all its glory. The last piece of Gran’s cherry pie. Just where I had put it before the wake.
It felt sacrilege to take it, but also, I knew Gran would want someone to enjoy it.
I pulled it out and took my time taking the plastic wrap off. Getting a plate out of the cupboard and a fork and a glass of milk.
Gently lifting off every last crumb of the crust, I put the pie on my plate. Taking a cloth napkin, silver candlestick, and candle from the credenza, I set up the table.
I lit the candle and it flickered a little from the overhead fan and then caught. Picking up my fork, I took the first bite. Sweet cherries burst in my mouth. Then, the fog drifted from my memories and they flooded in.
“Dear child, what are you doing?”
I was four and my dad had walked out the door, depositing our backpacks on the floor. Discarding us. Beau stood at the door, holding Gran’s hand. I walked into the kitchen and saw the cherry pie on the table, cooling.
She found me there sucking on my finger covered in cherry juice from the still cooling pie.
“I…”
She smiled at me.
“Would you like a piece? I’ll get some plates down. With some fresh cream. That would be nice, I think.”
My fork delved in for more. The sweetness and the tang.
“Miss Williams, come on in. I just made us a pie. Daisy Ann, come on out and say high to Miss Williams and her daughter, Callie. Do you remember them from church?”
I nodded. Callie smiled at me and we took hands as we followed the adults into the kitchen.
Another forkful, another memory.
“But he broke up with me, Gran. Because he’s got a football scholarship and has no need for a small town girl.”
“You know, I never thought that boy had a lick of sense.”
She gave me that look and we shared the memory of some foolish thing he had done just last summer. I laughed through the tears.
“This calls for a celebration.”
“Why is that, Gran?”
“You graduated high school, honey. Beau’s out with his friends. What would you like? Maybe some of that pie I made for yesterday?”
I smiled.
“With some ice cream?”
Gran lifted herself off the porch swing and headed in. The door light caught her white hair and she sparkled.
One last bite. The last thing my Gran’s hand had made. Last I had of her.
“Gran, you all right?”
Gran was sitting at the island, her lattice crust almost done in front of her. Her hand was shaking a little.
“Just a little dizzy, girl. I’ll finish up this pie and then we’ll talk about your day.”
I shoveled the last piece in and the tears rained down. All the love, all the peace I had found there. I didn’t hear the door open, but my brother came and wrapped his arms around me, putting his chin on the top of my head.
“I’m missing her,” I said.
“We were so loved. Isn’t that the greatest gift she gave us?”
“What if I forget?”
Beau put his finger down in the pie pan, getting the last little bit of cherry juice.
“Then you will bake a pie, like she taught you, and remember again.”
After we cleaned up, I gave him one last hug before he headed up to his room. I turned off the light and stood there in the last flickering of the candle.
Love can do so many things, it can leave a hole in your heart or fill it to overflowing. I leaned over and gently blew the candle out. Though the room was dark, the joy and peace had seeped into every corner. I sat still and I felt it fill me up.
By heart, I walked to the stairs and made my way to my room. Beau called to me.
“Do you know Callie likes long walks on the bayou?”
Love does work in wondrous ways.