Page 53 of Horn of Plenty
As usual, Betty had been tight-lipped on the drive up while Margaret explained that she and the casserole-obsessed chef Preston had begun corresponding over email. He’d invited the sisters up for a visit, and of course, she had to accept. And because the universe couldn’t allow him to wallow in his pain, it sent a pair of nice old ladies to drag his ass back to that damned place. But what was he supposed to say? He couldn’t tell them no.
His heart had already shattered into a thousand pieces over Mabel leaving—breaking into one thousand and one pieces couldn’t hurt much more.
“Why did Mabel go to New York?”
His ears perked up at the mention of her name.
“Cal?” Logan pressed. “Margaret said Mabel flew to New York yesterday.”
Cal blinked, then focused on Margaret, Betty, Preston, and Logan, who watched him closely.
“She’s there for a meeting—something that had to do with her old job. I’m not sure when she’s due back,” he answered gruffly.
Betty and Margaret shared a curious look. When he’d arrived to pick them up, the sisters seemed to know that Mabel had left Elverna. Perhaps Mabel had called them, or Elias could have stopped in at the diner. His boss had left the farm early this morning, claiming he had an errand to run.
A lot of errands for one day.
“Let’s bring the casseroles over to the community center,” Logan suggested. “We’re having a little celebration for our volunteers.”
Cal glanced from Betty to Margaret. “I’m not in the mood to celebrate. I’ll wait in the truck for you.”
The sisters frowned as Margaret whispered something that sounded like moody Capricorn into Betty’s ear.
God help him! More horoscope hocus-pocus!
“You’re more than welcome to join us, Cal,” Preston offered.
“Why don’t you go ahead. I could use a little air,” Betty said, glancing his way. “Would you walk with me, Cal?”
“Yes, of course,” he answered, taken aback by the woman’s request. Betty was the snarky quiet one, but a curious glint in her eyes hinted that she had something up her sleeve.
“Cal?” Betty coaxed, then nodded toward the door.
He snapped out of his Mabel-induced city-hating fog and opened the door for her as Preston, Logan, and Margaret carried the casseroles into the food pantry.
Betty took his arm as they walked a block in silence. He’d never appreciated Betty’s serene countenance more until today. But the reprieve was short-lived when the woman pointed toward the street sign.
“When Preston sent us the address of the community center and food pantry, I recognized it immediately,” she offered.
He glanced down at her. “But on the drive here, Margaret said that this was your first time visiting.”
“It is for Margaret, but I’ve been to this part of the city before,” she answered, and he had to keep his jaw from hitting the floor.
What the hell had she’d been doing here? He couldn’t picture the Young sisters venturing out to the big city. They were old-time Elverna—genuine country folk. And the sisters were connected at the hip. He couldn’t imagine an instance when he’d spent time with just one of them. And not only that! This was a rough neighborhood—just as it had been when he was a child. Cars on cinder blocks. Broken lawn furniture resting against the sides of dilapidated housing. He couldn’t see her—or Sally or Margaret—hanging around these streets.
Betty gestured for them to head toward the row of weathered blue homes that he’d tried to ignore when they drove by it today.
“When were you here?” he asked. But as the words passed his lips, a distant memory sparked. A kind face. A warm hug. A basket piled with fruits and vegetables and the heady scent of casserole.
“I was here almost twenty-five years ago. That’s when we met, Cal,” she said matter-of-factly.
He stilled and stared down at the woman.
It couldn’t be.
“We couldn’t have met here, Betty. Twenty-five years ago, I was only three years old. My grandparents didn’t take me in until I was five,” he answered, but the more he thought about it, the more his muddled memories became clearer.
“I remember the day you arrived in Elverna. Stanley and Gladys brought you into the diner for dinner. You ate an entire cheeseburger and two slices of rhubarb pie,” she said, gifting him with a warm smile. “But this is where we met for the first time, Cal. I believe we were in this exact spot. You were quite young, and I was younger, too. I forgive you for not recalling our first encounter,” she added with that sly grin. There was always something veiled in Betty’s eyes. She was the observer. As a kid, he’d imagined she had all sorts of fantastical secrets locked in her mind.
