“Sadie makes the best peach pie in the county!” Gail piped up from the register, her chin tilted up and a proud smile gracing her face. “She’s won the county fair pie contest five years in a row.”
Gail, a compact firecracker in her late forties, put the Energizer Bunny to shame. She was endlessly telling everyone about Sadie’s accomplishments, like she was her own daughter. Her short black hair was streaked with gray and teased into an Afro that never seemed to stop moving.
“What was it that won this year?” she asked. “Oh!” she snapped her fingers, “Peach turnovers with sweet lemon cream drizzle and mint julep ice cream. Mmm, I can still taste it. Dee-vine.”
“The mint julep ice cream is Gigi’s recipe, though,” Sadie said.
“Used to make it for you and that brother of yours on hot summer nights when neither of you could sleep, little pissants. But you made it better than I ever did. And it went just right with the peaches.”
“I’ve always had a soft spot for peach pie,” Jake said, his eyes swiveling to Sadie again.
“Hmm,” Sadie intoned. “I don’t remember that.” As if. Her eyes glanced to the wooden sign hanging from the walkway out front: “A Peach in Thyme.” It had sounded innocuous enough when she came up with it. Peaches for Jake. Thyme for courage. Leaving one and embarking on the other. She had spent hours hand-drawing the logo: a full, ripe peach in the background, with another peach in front, cut in half so the pit was showing. “A Peach In Thyme” curved over the peaches while “Café and Bakery” curved underneath. And on either side were sprigs of thyme that were so lifelike you could almost smell the fragrant herb. Now that logo seemed like a beacon that had led him directly back into her life.
“Well, lucky for you, honey, Sadie’s always got some peach concoction here,” Gail told Jake. “Don’t matter what else she’s makin’ because she always makes whatever suits her fancy, but you can bet your boots that’s the truth. I don’t know how she gets ’em to produce year-round, but we all know Gigi Marie Revelare’s garden has got some kind of magic in it.”
“I hadn’t heard that,” Jake answered, finally tearing his gaze from Sadie and smiling at Gail.
“Everyone in town’s heard that, man,” Vinny piped up. “That place is legendary.”
“Anyway, you’ll have to get in line if you want to court our Sadie for her peach confections,” Gail said, giving Jake a sharp look.
“Not necessary,” Sadie said quickly, seeing Jake wince. Yeah well, he should be uncomfortable.
“Enough of that, you superstitious buffoons,” Gigi said with pursed lips and a terse shake of her head. “Now, Jake, family dinner is tomorrow night and you’re coming. No arguments. Be there at six.”
“What?” Sadie spluttered. “Gigi, I’m sure he already has plans. Or—”
“I don’t, actually.” Jake grinned. “But thanks for trying to get rid of me, Sade.”
Sadie winced again at the nickname. There were only two people who called her that. Both had broken her heart.
“As a matter of fact, I can walk right over. I’ve got a viewing of Rock Creek House later in the afternoon,” he added with a wry smile.
Sadie froze, her eyes trained on Jake. Was he doing this on purpose? She wracked her brain for something clever and nonchalant to say, but her thoughts were focused in on a tiny couch in an old attic and Jake’s fingers tracing lines on her palm.
“Why there?” she asked finally.
“Just looking for some peace and quiet,” he said, not quite meeting her eye. “I’ll tell you all about it at church tomorrow,” he continued. “For now, I’ve got to head to the station to finish up some paperwork, so I’ll take whatever peach desserts you have on hand.”
“On the house,” Gigi said, who’d already been wrapping up several to-go boxes filled with one of everything.
As Sadie watched, she couldn’t help but feel a tad bit betrayed.
“You sure know how to win a man over, Gigi Marie,” Jake declared. “Nice to see you, Sadie.” He winked before finally, finally heading for the door.
“He’s looking at Rock Creek!” Sadie hissed into her phone. “He’d be less than a mile from me! What’s he playing at?” She was standing on the tiny back patio behind the café, where she usually escaped for her breaks to have a little peace and quiet. Now there was none of that. But the vent from the kitchen, pumping out warm air and the smell of cinnamon dolce challah bread, grounded her, and she took a deep breath.