Chapter Four
THERE ARE ONLY TWO tables at The Pie Shop in Lament. One’s small and round, like the bistro table Cate and Bev had on their balcony back in the city. The other is square, not much bigger. There are four chairs, but Cate can’t imagine trying to fit four people around it.
She takes the tiny table. There’s barely room enough for her bowl of soup and the turkey pot pie she’s ordered. And the cup of hot tea. With milk. Ahhh, she’s in heaven.
Cate’s staring out the front window at nothing in particular when the pie lady says, “Nice weather we’re having.”
“Yeah,” Cate replies. She’s not used to strangers interacting with her while she eats, but the customers who had come in to buy take-home pies have come and gone. Now it’s just Cate and the lady in the pink apron.
There is
