Page 74 of Finding Yesterday
It’s nice to see my sister like the man I care about.Reallynice.
I make my way back to the kitchen to fetch more napkins when Jack pops his head through the door. “There’s someone who wants to compliment the chef on the mud pie.” His voice is filled with warmth. “Do you want to see him?”
“Of course.” I rub my hands together. Wow. Someone wants to compliment the chef, and although it’s probably someone being sweet, I still really like the idea. Maybe even love it.
“Okay, he’s coming in.” Jack ushers in Edna’s husband, Arnie, who has a bright smile. Then Jack leaves us alone.
“You made the mud pie, Claire?” he asks, hobbling in.
“I did.”
“It was something else.” He shakes his head, slow and deliberate. “It reminded me of the mud pie my mother used to make, and I never thought I’d have it that way again after she passed.”
“Really?” My voice is light. I can tell he’s not just being nice by the sparkle in his eyes.
“I’m so glad.” I touch Arnie’s shoulder.
“It just…it was so flaky. Thin.” His smile spreads. “Not too rich. They always make it too rich these days.”
I feel like I’m floating. “My mama taught me.” Well, she didn’t, but her recipe did.
“She taught you well. Ah, we sure do miss sweet Ms. Millie.” Turning, he says, “I’ll let you get back to it.”
“All right, thank you again.” I nod. “You made my evening.”
And I’m not completely lying—he did. It doesn’t hurt that everything is perfect with Jack tonight.
When I head back to the crowd carrying napkins, Jessie Mac comes busting through the door with an old, rusty bike. He calls out, “Hey, Jack, I got my gift here for you.”
Jack looks over, his face dropping. He stares in silence for a few beats while Jessie Mac continues, “You were always taking this from our shed as a kid, and you thought we didn’t know it. But we did.” He flashes a proud smile. “I don’t know how you rode it, though. It was way too big for you.”
Smiling, Daisy approaches Jessie Mac. Touching the cracked nylon seat, she looks at Jack. “I forgot about this thing. Do you remember, Jack? You had to stand to pedal. You started when you were about six.”
Jack scrubs a hand over his beard, his face paling. Then he forces a pained smile as he walks over to them.
Pops says, “Jack didn’t ride a bike when he lived here. He didn’t know how until his folks bought him one in San Francisco.”
“That’s what you thought,” Daisy says, chuckling. “He kept taking it from our shed and going Lord knows where with it.”
“I found it when I finally cleaned all the junk out of the shed.” Jessie Mac’s smile grows. “And figured you should be the one to have it. Since you wanted it mighty bad.”
The room breaks out into chuckles, but Pops and Jack aren’t laughing. In fact, Jack looks like he’s about to be sick.
But when he gets to Daisy and Jessie Mac, he recovers somewhat, forcing a smile and giving each of them a hug. “You guys. That was awfully kind of you to let me steal your stuff.”
More laughter echoes through the room, then a chant starts, “Ride it, ride it, ride it.”
Jack complies, taking a quick pedal around the room until the chain comes clean off.
There’s more laughter and celebration, but suddenly, I’m not in the mood. I realize I’ve been gripping the napkins so hard they’re crumpled.
First, Jack went ghostly when he saw the shed, and now the same with the bike from the shed. Obviously, something happened, and I don’t know what, but an icy chill darts up my spine.
I head back to the kitchen, alone, making the excuse that I have to clean up. I don’t, but I will eventually, so might as well get it done now.
The kitchen door opens, and I’m expecting Jack or one of the other chefs, so I’m surprised to see Emma walking in.
“What are you doing here, sis?” I ask.
