Pies and Prejudice Read Free

windows shined a little brighter, making the sterling silver candlesticks and framed photos on the mantel glint like Christmas tree tinsel. Even her mother seemed to glow in the company of her siblings, and Ella Mae wondered if anyone had ever seen four such beautiful, gifted, and formidable sisters as the LeFayes.
    It had been both wondrous and daunting to be reared by this collective of women. Though her mother and Verena had married, Verena never had children, and neither Dee nor Sissy had expressed a desire to marry or raise a family. Therefore, five women, including Reba, had served as Ella Mae’s mothers, each of them teaching, guiding, and loving her until she’d left them behind for a good-looking man with a honeyed tongue.
    Watching them now, Ella Mae was thankful that she’d kept in touch with her aunts during the seven years she was away, the seven years in which she and her mother didn’t exchange a single word. They’d called her constantly during that first year in Manhattan, knowing she was lonely and that Sloan often worked late.
    She’d tell them of the city’s wonders while they’d update her on the doings in Havenwood. Ella Mae never asked after her mother, but her aunts always ended every conversation by saying, “And you know your mama sends her love, even if you don’t hear her speaking the words.”
    At the time, Ella Mae believed Sloan’s love was all that she’d needed. How wrong she had been.
    Dee must have noticed the shadow hovering over Ella Mae’s shoulder for she touched her niece on the elbow and gently steered her toward the sunroom where the table was set for afternoon tea. “Did you bake something?”
    “Ella Mae volunteered to make us a pie.” Her mother gestured regally toward the table covered with a gleaming white cloth and a silver urn bursting with bright yellowroses. Their petals shimmered in the light, reminding Ella Mae of the surface of a lemon tart.
    “Adelaide!”
Sissy gushed. “Is this your new Yellow Ribbon rose?”
    When her sister nodded, Sissy leaned in to smell the bouquet. “Hmm, I smell homecomings and
happiness
and…” She inhaled deeply, her eyes closed. “Immeasurable relief.”
    Verena gave Sissy a bossy nudge. “The roses are lovely, Adelaide, but I am much more interested in finding out what Ella Mae learned in that fancy New York culinary school.” She took a seat at the table. “Come on, girls! All I had for lunch was three fried chicken thighs, a pile of okra, and a biscuit oozing butter. I’m starved!”
    The women giggled with mirth. Verena was notorious for her appetite. Unlike her sisters, who were slim and lithe as dancers, Verena had a solid build. She was by no means fat, but as the eldest and tallest of the LeFaye sisters, she seemed larger than life to most of Havenwood’s populace. And when she was ready to eat, nothing could come between her and her meal.
    Her mother served slices of Ella Mae’s pie, deftly lifting precise wedges of the dessert onto cloud white plates. Watching her, Ella Mae decided that she’d be a rhubarb-raspberry tart a la mode—the filling forced into sweetness by a dram of whiskey and the acidic taste of the berries softened by a plump scoop of vanilla ice cream.
    The sisters chatted away as they loaded their forks, but the moment they savored their first bite of tart blueberries blended with flaky dough and finishing with the crunch of the sweet crumble, the women fell silent.
    Ella Mae twisted the linen napkin on her lap, her own pie untouched.
    They don’t like it,
she thought, watching her aunts. Her mother hadn’t served herself a slice, disappearing into the kitchen to get the tea instead.
    Dee put her fork down and licked her blue-tinged lips. “Do you all remember Mack Davenport?” Her voice was so light and feathery that it nearly floated away. “That boy who lived down the street and moved away when I was in the third grade?”
    Sissy and Verena nodded.
    “I stole his baseball glove