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Passion for Pie

By Meghan Butler

By Meghan ButlerPublished 3 years ago 10 min read
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“Ma’am, you’re welcome to stay with me while I clean up, but I’m going to lock the door because we close at 2. Let me get you some coffee or tea, on the house,” Amelia said to the glammed-up woman with shoulder-length silver curls. She had been sitting at the corner table in Amelia’s coffee shop since about 11 o’clock that morning.

“That would be lovely, dear. I’ve been admiring everything about this place; the bright artwork on the walls, the colorful mismatched mugs, the intricate latte art, and your dessert is absolutely to die for.” She smiled. “I had the cherry pie.” Her blue eyes lit up. “My best friend used to make the most delicious cherry pie and I can honestly say I’ve never found anything that tastes like hers, if not better, until today. My name is Nancy, by the way.”

“Thank you! I love to hear that,” Amelia said faintly. “My grandmother, I called her Gigi, taught me that recipe. She taught me that recipe and just about every other recipe for desserts that I know,” Amelia said with a chuckle. Today marked 15 years that her grandmother had been gone, but about 16 years since Amelia had last seen her. “I’m Amelia, but everyone calls me Mimi.”

Gigi was a stunning, small, slender woman with long curly auburn hair, with just the right amount of curl to match her personality. She was professional, remarkably intelligent, and never came out and begged or even asked for the attention but was always the star of the show. It could be because you never caught her fair skin without a touch of blush, plump lips without some romantic stain applied to them, and green-hazel eyes without a sultry eyeshadow. She wore heels to work in her law office, Sunday mornings to church, lunch at the deli, the corner grocery store, and everywhere in between. She was quiet unless provoked, fair unless betrayed, and kind unless crossed; and you did not want to be on the receiving end of her wrath. She was the best grandma a little girl could hope for; always helping, always listening, and always playing – really playing. She was everything to Mimi, she hung the moon in her eyes.

“How long have you had this charming little shop, darling?” Nancy asked.

“Oh, it’s been about 3 years now. My mother’s plan was for me to go to college and become a lawyer like her and my grandmother, but I had other ideas. My grandmother always wanted me to find my passion and that just wasn’t sitting in a court room arguing with people,” Mimi snickered. “My mother hated the idea of me serving or bartending or doing anything other than studying law.”

Mimi remembered when she was 7 years old, there was a day that she was dancing and twirling around the well-manicured lawn in one of Gigi’s old red polka-dotted swing dresses that slumped off her too small shoulders. Mimi’s dark brown hair was tickling her back as she bounced around trying to catch Gigi’s eye through the window while she answered a phone call. Gigi laughed and snapped a Polaroid picture of Mimi floating around in that beautiful dress. Eventually Gigi came out with some sandwiches and lemonade and suggested, with a half-smile, they have lunch in the garden of her extravagant three-story home in rural Pennsylvania.

“Can I carry that?” Mimi asked. “Mom never lets me play restaurant when we are at home, she gets really mad if I ask.”

“Of course, sweetie.” Gigi replied.

Gigi’s house was Mimi’s favorite place to be in the entire world. She stayed there every weekend while her mother, Claudia, went on trips with her annoying, self-centered, egotistical boyfriend from Ibiza, Spain. Claudia met him on a “girls’ trip” to the island and brought him back to meet the family. And he never left; not unless it was for a weekend getaway with Claudia, who he always referred to as his “chica”. He didn’t work and was always mooching from Claudia or anyone he could schmooze some money out of. Gigi always made Mimi promise she would stay far away from any man who acted like Santiago.

As they sat down for lunch at the beautiful white bistro table set in the middle of the elegant garden, Gigi said, “That was your mother and that foul man on the phone. Please promise me you’ll never…”

“Ew Gigi!” Mimi cried. “I hate him and his nasty breath. He’s always huffing his words and trying to impress mom and all her friends. It is so embarrassing! And he’s constantly correcting anyone who talks about Ibiza by saying, “eh eh eh ehhhhh, it’s ‘Ibi-THA’,” she said as she rolled her eyes and wiggled her finger around.

“I’m sorry, my baby,” Gigi said while brushing Mimi’s flushed cheeks and trying not to laugh. “At least we have another day together before it’s time to see Mr. Ibi-THA again.” Gigi got a serious look on her face and said, “Mimi, grow up and grow strong; find a passion for yourself, not your passion for a man. You will have my blessing when you find it, no matter what it is.”

Mimi felt herself snap out of her memory, realizing that she had zoned out for a bit. “I’m so sorry, did you say you were from here?”

Nancy looked as if she were in the memory with Mimi and didn’t skip a beat when she said, “I’m just passing through, I visited an old friend earlier this morning, I hadn’t seen her in ages! I ran into one of her old workers as I was leaving, and they told me I had to stop here and try the pie before leaving town.”

“Well, I’m so glad you came in,” Mimi said, her mind drifting again to the last time she had seen Gigi, when she was about 12.

“Can’t we stay up longer, it’s not even that late?” Mimi pleaded, already knowing the response she would get.

“Early to bed, early to rise, so Mimi can make Gigi a delicious pie,” Gigi smirked.

“What do you mean?!” Mimi shouted. “It’s normally ‘Early to bed, early to rise, so Gigi and Mimi can make a delicious pie!”

“Ah, but tomorrow is going to be a little different,” Gigi explained. “I’m going to sit this one out and see how you do on your own. Now go to bed, Mimi, you’ve got a big day!”

Sunday morning had a bit of an earlier start in the kitchen of “Gigi & Mimi’s Pie’s.” Gigi sat out on the terrace sipping her tea while Mimi prepared her first solo pie; it was cherry, Gigi’s favorite.

“Order up!” Mimi shouted, ringing her bell to let her waitress know it was time to serve the warm cherry pie to her new customer.

“Got it!” Mimi rattled back at herself as she came to the other side of the counter to pick up the order. She slowly approached the table where Gigi sat waiting to critique her creation.

“Ooh, you’ve baked my favorite this morning, Mimi!” Gigi exclaimed. “But you know I make the best, let’s see how yours ranks.”

Gigi looked the slice of pie over, turning the plate in a full 360°. “Overall appearance: 5/5. Your lattice crust is placed perfectly, my dear!”

Mimi’s shoulders loosened up a bit as she awaited the rest of her score.

As Gigi took her first bite her eyes widened, but not a word escaped her lips. She took another bite, then she took a piece of the crust and popped it in her mouth, then finally one last bite. “Taste: 5/5! Mimi, you’ve got it down! I’d swear I baked this pie myself,” Gigi winked at Mimi with a smile. “And finally, overall impression: 4/5.”

“What?!” Mimi exclaimed. “What did I do wrong?”

“Well, if you were sitting down eating a slice with me the 5 would be all yours!” Gigi laughed.

As Mimi giggled and ran back to the kitchen to get herself a slice of pie she heard the front door shut.

“Amelia!” Claudia shouted as she came into the kitchen, her brows furrowing, cheeks becoming a violent shade of red, and her fists clenching shut.

Mimi froze.

“MOTHER!” Claudia yelled even louder.

Gigi swayed into the kitchen calmly, “Well, you’re here early, Claudia.”

“How many times have I told you not to fill her head with this madness? She should be studying your law books with you, but instead she’s walking around in a dirty apron being your servant. I can promise you this will be the last time I remind you,” Claudia said quietly but sternly. “I’ll be in the car, Amelia, get your things and meet me out there; and make sure you give your grandmother a proper goodbye,” Claudia said right before she slammed the front door.

Mimi’s eyes began to well up. “Gigi, I’ll never open the restaurant again. Next weekend we can study your law books, please tell mom!”

“I will talk to her, my love,” Gigi whispered. “I want you to do whatever makes you happy. I don’t care what it is, but when you find it you will have my blessing, as I’ve always told you. I love you so much, Mimi.” With a kiss on her forehead, Mimi slumped her head and made her way outside with Gigi’s hand on her shoulder. Looking out the back window while Claudie drove away, Mimi never imagined that she would be waving goodbye to Gigi for the last time.

“So did your mother ever come around to your passion?” Nancy asked.

“Not one bit. We stopped talking when I was 18, after I told her I wasn’t going to college. I decided I would bartend at my friend’s restaurant to save up money to start my own business,” Mimi said. “I couldn’t deal with her telling me over and over to get a ‘real job’. My job certainly paid my bills and allowed me to save up and pursue my passion of owning my own business. It taught me almost everything I know about people, besides what my Gigi did,” Mimi paused. “I am so sorry for being so nostalgic today. It’s the anniversary of my Gigi’s death and I’ve been thinking about her since I woke up this morning.”

“Don’t worry, dear. Has your business been hurt by Covid?” Nancy asked wearily.

“Covid has put a crippling spin on things but I know I will figure it out. I’ve had to lay off most of my workers, so it’s just me here. Enough about me,” Mimi laughed, “let me grab you another piece of pie and we can talk about you!”

“I would love that,” smiled Nancy.

Mimi went in the back and began slicing a piece of pie for Nancy, her eyes filling with tears. What a coincidence that she would come in today, of all days. It felt like her Gigi had sent this woman as if to say, “I’m thinking of you, too.”

“Order up!” Mimi laughed as she approached the table where Nancy was… had been sitting; she was gone. All that was left on the table was a small leather-bound black book. Mimi opened it and found a Polaroid picture of herself twirling around in Gigi’s dress. Hot tears were streaming down her face. Who was that woman?

Mimi took out the picture and found a check behind it. She began sobbing even more when she saw the check was written out for $20,000; she would be able to continue running “Mimi’s Pies,” and be able to employ her workers again! She saw a note scribbled on the first page of the book that read,

“Mimi,

Once you’ve found your passion, this book (and Nancy) will find you. I hope you’re still making your delicious cherry pie.

All my Love,

Gigi”

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About the Creator

Meghan Butler

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