It was Sunday, Elly’s favorite day of the week. There were no weddings, no workers, no songs sang about her luscious breasts…it was just her, Cadbury and a caramel apple pie, her mother’s recipe. Elly felt a twinge of passive guilt for skipping church this morning, - and every Sunday, two years in a row - but she rationalized for today that if your boyfriend had ripped off his shirt in front of hundreds of people while singing about your comforting fat rolls, then you got a free pass.
Elly plodded to her couch, which was surrounded by used tissues. She had called Kim that morning to no answer. Almost every other Sunday, Elly headed to Kim’s house for swimming, movies or a nice dinner. As Kim’s voicemail turned on, Elly had almost felt relief. Since she had learned about Aaron, she had not been alone to properly organize her thoughts, to sort out her wide array of feelings. With the wedding a few short months away, Elly knew that she had to issue her response so that Sunny had enough time to book another florist. Today was a day to reflect, a day to be introspective and honest. A day to make pies. She sat down with the purpose of deep and revealing thought, but was soon distracted by her massive pile of unopened mail. Ripping open envelopes and clipping coupons, Elly mulled over her situation. I can’t do the wedding. I can’t. Absolutely not. It would be admitting defeat. I can’t bear the thought of seeing Aaron with her. I’ll attack her if I see her. That, or I will hide in a corner until I cry myself to death. Even if I delegated the wedding, she thought determinedly, I would still need to meet with Lucia and Sunny. I can’t. It’s done. I can’t.
Elly slipped a letter out of its envelope. She groaned loudly, followed by a short snort. She had forgotten to pay her quarterly state taxes again. She loved running the shop, meeting with the brides and designing the flowers, but bookkeeping was never her strength. Elly was on a first name basis with John, the tax commissioner for the city of Clayton. They would have lengthy conversations about their mutual love for live theater and English sheepdogs before getting to Elly’s late notice or many miscalculations. She found numbers and math in general overwhelming and intimidating, and really had no use for them. Kim constantly remarked that it was a miracle that she wasn’t homeless. Elly glanced at the bill, her mind momentarily crippled by the staggering amount. Surely she could cover it, but it would be nice to have a little extra. The shop desperately needed new carpet, air conditioning in the back and the van seemed one delivery away from dropping its engine on I-64.
The timer rang loudly and Cadbury barked. Elly quickly put her hands over his muzzle. The last thing the neighbors needed to know was that Cadbury was familiar with the sound of a perfectly cooked pie. Pulling on her large oven mitts, Elly was reaching for the pie when there was a knock at the door. She hastily shoved the pie onto the top of the stove and walked to the door, glancing wistfully back at the golden brown lattice steaming deliciously on the counter. Elly yanked open the door. Keith stood before her, a bag of sandwiches in one hand and a box of Kleenex in the other. He shuffled his feet nervously and stared at the ground.
“Hi Elly, how are you feeling? I just thought I would bring these by and see how you were feeling after your, your…”
“Hissy fit?” Elly offered.
Keith nodded, laughing. “I was going to say your emotional day.”
“That would be kind of you, considering I threw over an 80 pound glass table.”
“Yeah, that was more impressive than upsetting.”
Elly smiled and waved towards the couch. “C’mon in.”
Cadbury trotted over to Keith, tail wagging happily. “Hello buddy, how are you feeling?”
“He’s doing much better. You’ll be thrilled to know that there is not a trail of dog poop leading into the bedroom.”
Keith took his shoes off at the door and sat down on the couch. “Something smells delicious…”
Elly walked into the kitchen, “You are a lucky man, because I just made caramel apple pie.”
Keith rubbed Cadbury’s ears. “I planned it that way. That’s really the only reason I came over. Did you have lunch yet? I brought you my new sandwich. It’s a turkey, avocado, cheese and toasted foccacia with basil pesto.”
“That sounds amazing.” Elly sat down next to him and started to unwrap her sandwich. She peeled back the wrapping and stopped. She was so touched by this small gesture, but still felt restless and uneasy. “You know what? I’ve been in this apartment all day, and I really could get out of the house. Would you mind if we took a walk? It’s so beautiful outside. We could take our sandwiches.”
Keith jumped up. “Yeah, a walk sounds nice. Are you sure you don’t mind the company?”
Elly shook her head as she hooked Cadbury to his leash. “Nope, as long as you don’t mind taking a walk with a jaded woman who is going to eat her sandwich with equal parts anger and vigor.”
Keith smiled. “I don’t mind. I know somewhere we could go…have you been to Regal Park?”
Elly had not. “Is it far?” she asked, trying not to betray that an intense uphill hike was maybe not her forte.