II CAME FOR THE PIE - to glue back together the pieces of my broken heart.
Comfort food. That's why I got the ice cream on top.
Apple pie. Something wholesome. All-American. Innocent.
Like the innocence and beliefs in America I'd lost long ago.
Not just any ice cream. They stocked a special cinnamon-vanilla ice cream which turned their apple pie into a piece of heaven. One that gave meaning to the phrase "pie in the sky."
Perfect for soaking the pain out of my soul, for mending the rips in my heart that the lies had left.
I hardly noticed the man who sat on the counter stool next to me. The place was packed this time of day, the usual lunch crowd. And their blue-plate special was nearly as good as their dessert.
But nothing mattered to me more than the ice cream in front of me. One
