hour, the couple got out of bed, put on their robes, then headed into the kitchen. Tommie took the pie from the refrigerator, slicing himself a thin piece as Rae sat at the table. “Get me one too,” she said.
He nodded, then cut another sliver from what remained, which was a good-sized serving. “If all goes well, I’m having this for breakfast,” Tommie quipped.
“You do that, you’ll make yourself sick,” Rae replied.
Tommie smiled. “Well, let’s see.”
He brought their plates to the table, sitting across from her. Taking the first bite, Tommie savored the familiar lemon, tangy and delicious. As the meringue dissolved against his tongue, he closed his eyes, memories from many years spent on this farm swirling through his head. More bites led to further recollections and always the good outweighed the bad, even if at the time, Tommie had no clue where to go next.
Then he gazed at Rae, who seemed lost in her own thoughts. Tommie smiled, reaching across the table, gripping her hand. She grinned at him, then took a bite. After she swallowed, she spoke. “So, how do you feel?”
“Good. Pretty damned fine actually. You’re right. This pie is special. But not toxic,” he chuckled.
“I should think not. But we should give it time to settle, make sure you’re really okay.”
Tommie laughed. The few times he’d gone off the wagon, the effects were immediately noticeable, a tiny sense of relief engulfed by an overwhelming notion of futility. He felt none of that now, just a rising pleasure, and the knowledge that he would only eat this pie in secret.
Then he grinned at Rae. “You know, I do feel something.”
“Yeah?” she said, raising one eyebrow.
“Yup.” He finished the last morsel of crust, setting his fork on the plate.
Rae stared at him. “So you gonna tell me, or make me read your mind?”
“Merry Christmas Rae.”
She glared at him. “Tommie, what?”
“You’re looking mighty pretty tonight.”
She sighed, shook her head, then gazed at him again. Then she giggled. “Oh Tommie, now it’s late and I’m…”
“You’re absolutely beautiful. C’mon, let’s go back to bed.”
“I haven’t finished my pie, thank you very much.”
“Well, you can have it in the morning while I’m eating that last slice. We’ll both start off the day with something sweet.”
“After ending this day with something sweet, I imagine?”
Her tone wasn’t chastising, but eager, which made Tommie laugh. He stood, putting his plate and Rae’s fork in the sink. He set her unfinished pie on top of foil-covered leftovers, then closed the fridge. Tommie joined his wife at the table, offering his hand to her. “Let me make love to the best baker this side of Portland.”
“Just Portland, huh?” Rae said, slowly getting to her feet.
“You’re tops all along the West Coast, but thank God only those south of Portland know it. Otherwise we’d never have any peace.”
“Mmmhmmm,” she murmured in a seductive tone that made Tommie shiver. Then he chuckled, walking at her side, until they reached their bedroom. The walker was abandoned as Tommie escorted his wife into bed. Then he stripped off his clothes, and got in beside her. Maybe there was something in that damned pie, he thought, as Rae removed her nightgown. If nothing else, Rae’s latest Todd Lambert special wasn’t only for Jenny’s benefit. Tommie was planning on having a nightly slice of lemon meringue pie, once all his kinfolk had said their farewells for the evening.
_______________
Liner Notes
Originally published in 2013 for a Top Writers Block anthology, “The Todd Lambert Special” is an ode to the Alvin’s Farm series, as well as a writing assignment related to meringue. Something about these characters draws me back to them, and after recently revisiting the entire series, I decided to separately publish this tale as a way to best conclude a collection of books and characters that are well-stitched into my heart. May you enjoy it as either a standalone short story or an epilogue to one of my favorite literary creations, a cup of coffee and slice of pie at your side.
About the Author
Anna Scott Graham was born in 1966 in Northern California. A mother and grandmother, she lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with her husband, some hummingbirds, and numerous quilts.
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