Page 84 of Close to Heaven

Twenty-Four

After Avery left his cabin, she and Dakota spent the rest of the day together, Christmas shopping and eating their way through Gatlinburg. That evening, Avery was so exhausted, she went to bed early and slept soundly the whole night through.

On Saturday, she went to visit her dad, who seemed more interested in watching football than chitchatting with her. She made them lunch and then sat down to watch the game with him.

“You don’t even like football,” he said.

She smiled, glad he remembered. “No, but I like spending time with you.”

He flapped his hand. “You should be out doing young-people things.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Whatever young people do these days.”

She laughed but took the hint and stood up to leave.

“I need to ask a favor.”

“Sure.” It was rare that Carl asked for help.

“Can you return the pie plate to Carolyn on your way home?”

She’d been meaning to talk to his neighbor anyway, so this gave her the perfect opportunity. However, she couldn’t resist digging for a little more information about their relationship.

“Don’t you plan on seeing her?”

“Yes, but I might forget about the plate.”

She smiled at her dad’s sweetness, realizing how much his memory loss must be troubling him too.

“No problem. Which house is hers?”

He described the house, and then she took the pie plate and left, promising to visit again soon. A few minutes later, she knocked on the door of Carolyn’s rambling brick ranch.

Carolyn answered the door wearing a retro-looking black and white polka-dotted apron over her clothes. “Oh, Avery. What a nice surprise! Come on in.”

Avery stepped inside and glanced around Carolyn’s digs. Carolyn’s taste reflected her personal style, a mix of the old and new, and her home was warm and inviting, just like her.

“My dad asked me to return your pie plate. The pie was delicious, by the way.” She handed Carolyn the plate.

“Thank you, dear. I’m glad you enjoyed it. Would you like to sit down for a minute?”

“I don’t want to impose.”

“No, no. I’m just waiting for a batch of homemade brownies to finish baking.”

“I thought I smelled chocolate,” Avery said.

Carolyn laughed. “Who doesn’t love chocolate, right?”

“I certainly don’t know of anyone.”

Avery followed Carolyn into the kitchen, which was painted a bright, cheerful yellow. They sat down at a retro-looking white Formica-topped table that reminded Avery of a 1950s diner.

She couldn’t help but compare Carolyn to her mom, whose tastes had been much more understated. Strangely, she could visualize the two women as friends, despite their differences.

“To be honest, there’s another reason why I’m here,” Avery began.