Game of Pies (Toronto Series #16)

Book Description

When thirty-something lovers Brit and Kyle learn their grandmothers have a sixty-year-long feud, they agree to join the pie-making contest that’s the prime battlefield. If they win, the grandmothers agree to accept their relationship, or at least pretend to. If they lose? They’ll regret it. With only two months to learn to bake, can Brit and Kyle win the Game of Pies and save their relationship?

Author’s Note

Game of Pies is the sixteenth book in my Toronto Collection of loosely interconnected novels all set in Toronto. You don’t need to have read any of the previous books to understand this one, but you will find a spoiler here to a previous book in the Collection, Safe Harbor?, so if you plan to read that one I recommend you do that first. :)

Whether you’ve read all of my books (starting with my free novel Life, Love, and a Polar Bear Tattoo) or are just finding me now, thank you so much! If you’d like a free short story every month, please check out my Readers’ Group at http://heatherwardell.com/privacy-policy/.

Heather

Chapter One

Like a zoo tiger pacing nervous circles in its enclosure, I can’t stop going around and around the table inspecting every last detail.

Lauren, curled up on the couch in the kitchen, says, Brittany, you’re killing me. Sit down and quit worrying. It’s all good.

Is it, though? Ten people in this tiny space?

Not like we can make the apartment bigger by tomorrow, Kyle says from his armchair that’s blocking the dishwasher from opening. We did our best moving all this stuff around.

I have to admit, I didn’t think you’d get that table in here.

I spin around and stare at Lauren. Then why didn’t you tell us not to rent it?

She wrinkles her nose at me. Would you have listened?

Probably not. We needed a big enough table to seat all of our guests, so it and its ten chairs just had to fit. Which they do, now that we’ve dragged all the furniture out of the living room and into the kitchen and bedroom.

I give the table setting one last look then cover everything with one of my many spare lengths of fabric so not a speck of dust can mar the perfectly white dishes. Also rented. Kyle and I own five plates between us and they’re all different colors. "It’s okay, I guess, but… I just wish the apartment were bigger!"

Kristin draws her legs up and tucks them under her on the couch so she can cuddle up to Lauren, who promptly slips her arm around her girlfriend and says, You know, there are benefits to hanging out in the kitchen like this. Easy access to the fridge, for one.

Kyle laughs. "You can’t open it, though."

Well, sure, there’s always a catch.

I take a seat on the padded arm of Kyle’s chair, and he reaches up and pats my shoulder. We done good, baby, don’t worry.

Oh, well said, K, Kristin rolls her eyes at her twin brother. So articulate.

Kyle chuckles. As long as the code I write doesn’t have bugs in it, nobody cares how I speak. But I’m right, though, aren’t I? It’s all fine.

For sure, Kristin says firmly, and they give me nearly identical smiles. Though Kyle’s a good few inches taller than his sister, and Kristin’s blonde while Kyle’s still sporting their natural dark brown hair, they look so much alike that nobody could ever doubt they’re related.

I so want to believe you. I pick up my wine and throw back half the glass at once. This helps. Wine’s my friend.

Lauren laughs. Aren’t I your friend too?

Of course you are, she wouldn’t know me without you, Kyle says before I can answer, so I obviously have to say, Which means you’re my worst enemy, Lauren.

We all laugh, and I slide from the chair onto Kyle’s lap and feel my shoulders relaxing. We get along so well, the four of us. Though I dropped out of the University of Toronto Faculty of Law where I met Lauren years ago we stayed friends, so when she threw a birthday party for Kristin four months ago I got to meet Kyle celebrating his birthday too and we fell for each other right away. It could be weird that my best friend and I are dating siblings, but it’s not. It’s comfortable.

Gotta pee, Lauren says as she pushes to her feet.

Hope it all comes out okay.

Lauren swats Kyle on the shoulder and heads out, and once she’s gone into our bedroom to get to the bathroom Kristin says, Is there anything I can do to help you with tomorrow? Thanksgiving dinner’s a big deal. Even if it is a week late.

I smile, knowing Kristin’s got even weaker kitchen skills than I do. "I think we’re all set, but thanks. Nanny’s dinner last week is a seriously hard act to follow. She’s so good at making absolutely everything."

But so are we, Kyle says, wrapping his arm tighter around me.

I have to laugh. And you’re basing that on…

Our fridge full of food and the detailed plans magneted to it?

We have information, sure, but no experience making a turkey dinner. It’s like saying we could be doctors because we’ve watched Grey’s Anatomy.

Kyle leers at me. Are you saying you want to play doctor with me?

Kristin pretends to throw up. "I am right here."

I’m so sorry, I say. But didn’t you already know my boyfriend’s a bit of an idiot?

She bursts out laughing. That’s like saying Niagara Falls is a bit damp. Or us Canadians have a mild interest in hockey.

I giggle, and Kyle says, "Anyhow, let’s change the subject from picking on me. I agree with Brit, I think we’re good to go. He frowns. Unless you see anything not quite right?"

Well, you haven’t gotten married, Kristin says wryly, so there’s that.

But your grandmother knows that though. Right? One of the reasons we’re so good together is that neither of us believes in marriage. Kyle’s parents died in a car crash when he and Kristin were only a month old, and the restaurant they’d been at told the police they’d been yelling at each other about how getting married was the biggest mistake they’d ever made. My parents are still alive, but I haven’t seen my dad for sixteen years, since Mom took me and my then-baby brother Dylan back to her parents’ place when they split up.

Kyle nods at me. She does, but… yeah, don’t worry about it. She was married for over fifty years, so she’s obviously in favor of—

Brittany!

Did you fall in? I call back toward the bathroom.

Very funny, Lauren says, coming out of the bedroom. What the hell is this?

A dress?

She rolls her eyes and flaps the hanger toward me. "I did manage to figure that out. I meant, why is it in your closet?’

Saying ‘so I can wear it tomorrow’ would be too obvious, right? As would asking why you were in my closet?

Kyle, she says, your girlfriend is obtuse.

Deliberately, usually, he says.

Usually? I say in mock outrage, then turn to Lauren and say, I know, it’s not exactly my typical—

This thing would look at a burlap bag and say, ‘Wow, that’s so flashy.’

Stop, I say, getting to my feet, insulting my dress. Yes, it’s plain beige, and the cut is—

Boring.

"Simple. But that’s all on purpose. These guys tell me their grandmother wears simple classic clothes, and so does my grandmother and she’s always wishing I’d do it too, so I figured fitting in tomorrow was better than standing out."

Lauren tips her head from side to side. "Sure, but this? She shakes the dress at me again. You bought this fabric, on purpose I might add, and spent time sewing it up. How’d you manage to stay awake?"

Gimme that. I take the hanger from her and hook it over the top of the bedroom door then smooth the sleek bodice and a-line skirt. She’s not wrong, it is pretty boring. I stayed awake knowing it would help tomorrow be great. And it will.

You always make such gorgeous clothes. Not this beige monstrosity, but the rest of them. I’ve never known anyone else who makes all their own clothes, and you waste your time on this? Like… She catches the sleeve of the dress I’m wearing, which I finished last week and love. This one, the bright purple and the hummingbird pattern… it’s gorgeous. Why not just wear it and say, ‘Here I am, grandmothers, suck it!’?

Kyle and Kristin draw in a quick breath at the same time and I laugh. There’s why, I say, pointing to them. If they’re shocked, how would Granny Russell feel?

Are you calling her Granny Russell? Lauren asks before they can answer.

Dunno. What do you call her?

Lauren shakes her head and a shadow seems to pass over her face. I still haven’t met her, and— will she like me? Black, gay, older than Kristin…

Only by two years, I say, then the rest of what she said hits me. You don’t think she’ll dislike you for—

Kristin says quickly, Of course not. No. And you’ve only not met her because she’s been away.

That’s why I haven’t met her either. Kristin apparently never quite felt right with any of her boyfriends then met Lauren and realized it was the boy element of those boyfriends that wasn’t working for her. They’ve been together eight months, double my time with Kyle, but Kyle and Kristin’s grandfather died on Christmas Eve last year and on New Year’s Day Virginia took off to Europe to stay with friends and recover. She flew back yesterday to be here for tomorrow’s dinner.

The first one I’ve ever hosted.

No pressure.

*****

"We are ready, right? I ask for approximately the billionth time through the bathroom door as Kyle dries off from his shower later that night. I’m terrified we’ve forgotten something."

Brit.

Well? Have we?

He comes out with a towel around his hips. We got it all, baby. Got it all going on.

I let my eyes run over him, loving the sight of his body. We moved in together two months ago, when he needed a new place and I felt like a thirty-two-year-old woman with a thriving career as a virtual assistant didn’t need to be living with her family any more, and I still enjoy getting to stare at him in moments like this. I still can’t quite believe we’re in love and living together. Do we?

His mouth quirks into a half-smile. C’mere and I’ll show you.

Shark week arrived this morning, I remind him, since neither of us are much into sex during my period.

Right on time. Those damn sharks, always punctual. Will they let me kiss you, though?

I pretend to consider. They’re all right with that.

We make out for a few moments, then he pulls away and says, We’d better get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.

My chest fills with cold fear again. What if she hates me? Will she?

He raises my chin and looks into my eyes. Not a chance. She’ll love you. Like I do.

What if she doesn’t?

I don’t ask him. Instead I take a deep breath and gaze into his soft brown eyes and try to calm myself. I’ve had insomnia and anxiety issues as far back as I can remember, but I also had a great therapist a year ago who taught me how to release the fear by breathing into it, and in a moment I’m peaceful enough to say, I love you too. It’ll all be fine. Right?

Right, he says, sounding like my fear has transferred itself to him, then he adds, No, it will be. We’re great, Brit. Tomorrow we’ll show them all we’re good together, and good living together, and we don’t need to get married. Go get ready for bed. See you in an hour.

I roll my eyes at this stale joke of his then kiss him again before I take my turn in the bathroom. Swallowing my birth control pill and brushing my teeth don’t use up much time, but I enjoy wearing bright eyeshadow and plenty of it, along with vibrant long-lasting lipstick, and getting all of that stuff off without scrubbing too hard does take a while. Not an hour, of course. But a while.

It won’t take much time at all tomorrow, since I’ll only be wearing light neutral makeup. So his granny will like me.

The icy wings of anxiety touch me again but I breathe them away. It’ll be all right. We will be all right. One day without all the colors I love on my body won’t hurt me.

Once I’m done I head out to the bedroom, where Kyle is snoring loudly.

Faker.

Can’t hear you, I’m sleeping.

Liar.

Once I’m in bed beside him, he rolls onto his side facing me and I roll in for another kiss.

We’ve done everything we can possibly do, he says quietly. We’ve prepared everything. There are hospitals not as clean as this place is now. There’s nothing we haven’t considered. It will be great. Our grandmothers will meet, they’ll love each other, and we’ll be one big happy family.

Yeah, I say, trying to make myself believe it. Yeah, we will. And then maybe Nanny will be happy. She’s been strangely quiet and sad this year. At first I thought it was just the usual after-Christmas letdown, but now it’s October and she’s still not quite right. If they end up being good friends, that could be amazing.

That’s the spirit. He kisses me again then rolls onto his back to sleep. I curl up with my back resting against him, but despite doing every breathing exercise I remember I’m awake for a long long time.

Chapter Two

Brittany, dear, you look exhausted!

I make myself smile. Hi, Nanny. And I am, actually. I usually like to sleep in on the weekend but I had to be up bright and early to put the turkey in the oven and that combined with my insomnia and all the work we’ve done today has left me yawning.

She sets down her purse and a tote bag then gives me a hug. Well, it does smell good in here, so you’ve done something right.

I hug her back, feeling surprisingly touched. With how great a cook she is, I didn’t expect any compliments on whatever Kyle and I managed to put together.

I brought this for you, she says when she releases me, scooping up the tote bag and holding it out to me. It’ll need to go in the freezer. Part of it, I mean.

I peer inside to find a pumpkin pie and a tub of vanilla ice cream. Oh, Nanny, you didn’t need to, we bought two pies and a chocolate cake.

She smiles. I just thought it’d be nicer to have a homemade pie for dessert. You know I make them so well.

She’s right, she does, but before I can say so she takes off her fall jacket and beckons Lauren over. Here you go, dear.

Lauren takes the jacket automatically then looks at me, confused.

There should be room in the closet, I say, confused too at Nanny’s action, or I can—

I’ve got it, she says, and collects jackets from the other new arrivals too before hanging them all up in our tiny hall closet.

Nanny steps further into the apartment while Mom gives me a hug too, and I get one from Aunt Ruth as well although hers feels forced as always. I only see Aunt Ruth at holidays, and I’m actually surprised she agreed to come to our lunch today since official Thanksgiving was last weekend. The rest of the time she keeps to herself. She’s not married and has no kids, so I don’t know what she does with all her time, but she has no interest in spending more than absolutely necessary of it with her family. I know that bothers Nanny, and I don’t understand it myself, but she is what she is and she’s not going to change.

Dylan doesn’t hug me, of course. I’d never expect a hug from my sixteen-year-old brother and he’d probably throw up if I tried to give him one. We just nod at each other, like two strangers forced together by circumstances, but then I notice his eyes and frown. That’s not pink eye, is it? You better not be here contagious.

His eyebrows go up. What? No.

Nanny hurries back and turns him to face her. "She’s right, dear, your eyes are red. How did I not notice that before? Is something wrong?"

He pulls back. I’m fine. Just rubbed them, I guess.

I’ve got eye drops at home, I’ll fix you up there, Nanny says.

Dylan mumbles something that sounds like agreement and shoots me a dirty look made even more vicious by the state of his eyes.

Lovely to see you as always, bro, I say, then move over to Lauren and Kristin who are hovering awkwardly in the bedroom doorway because there’s nowhere else to hang out. It’s wine time, right? I hiss at them. Say it is.

Kristin smiles and Lauren gives my shoulder a squeeze, then Kyle comes out of the bedroom and says, Hello, everyone. Want a tour?

I let Kyle lead them around the apartment, which doesn’t take long given its size, and I stay with my friends and take a brief break from my nervousness until a hard punch on my shoulder makes me gasp and spin around. Dylan, quit it!

My brother rolls those red eyes. Whatever. I’m starving.

We can’t eat until everyone— what the hell did you—

My mother appears out of nowhere. Brittany, language! If Nanny hears….

Mom, he’s got a turkey leg in his hand, I say, trying to sound calm and not at all like I hope he chokes on it. He ripped that off our turkey.

Oh, well, we’ll all eat it later, Kyle says cheerfully as he leads Nanny and Aunt Ruth off the balcony and back into the apartment. He’ll just have his part now. Right, Caroline?

Mom nods, and Nanny pats Dylan on the shoulder and says, He’s a growing boy, he needs his food.

But does he need my food before I’m ready to serve it? And what would she do if he dug into her pie before it was time?

Nanny notices my cute little table centerpiece of mini pumpkins and goes off to admire it, and I hiss at Dylan, Anything else goes in your mouth before we all eat, I shove the wishbone up your nose. Sideways.

He gives me the kind of sneer only a teenage boy can manage and wanders off chewing on the turkey leg. You’d think Nanny would complain about how he wears his pants so low his boxers are on display, but she thinks everything he does is perfect. Not exactly how she feels about my wardrobe. She hates my sewing, especially my use of bright colors but really the whole thing. I still did it when I lived with her, but it’s been much more fun since I moved out and no longer face disapproval every time.

I’m adopted, right? I beg the others. Say I’m adopted. Or he is.

They laugh then sober quickly, and I look back over my shoulder to see my Aunt Ruth looking prickly. Of course, they don’t know she always looks like that.

Aunt Ruth, thanks for—

You do have cranberries, right? For the turkey?

I blink. Of course.

"Not canned ones," she says, as if ‘canned’ and ‘scooped up from the sewer’ mean the same thing.

I briefly consider lying but she’ll know. They are canned, I admit, bought because I like them that way and Kyle doesn’t like them no matter their form, but I tried them and they’re—

Let me call Bess, she says. She was at the gym so she couldn’t come with us. We’ll fix this.

And she’s gone.

"Just checking, this is our apartment, right? I ask Kyle. Aren’t we in charge?"

He kisses me on the cheek. Sure we are. From tonight on.

I tap the crook of my elbow. Wine IV, right here. Come on, isn’t anyone here a nurse?

Lawyer.

Software developer.

Teacher.

Well, what good are you all then?

We laugh, then Nanny calls to me from the balcony and I hurry over to join her. Two things, dear, she says when I’m outside in the crisp fall air. First, your dress is lovely. Where did you buy it?

I made it, actually, I say, trying to sound casual. Specially for today.

Hmm, she says. Now that I’m closer I can see that. Well, I do love the color.

Good, since I chose it with her in mind. I’m glad. And the second thing?

She grimaces and pulls me closer. "I don’t think you should be quite so friendly with the staff, dear."

I… the staff?

She flicks her gaze back into the apartment, and I look where she did and see Lauren chatting with Mom. I’m