Her brother looked dazed.

“Are you okay?” Bryony asked.

“This changes everything,” he said, shaking his head. “I just can’t believe it.”

Bryony shrugged her shoulders. “I wasn’t trying to hide it.” Maybe she and her brother should have had this conversation years ago.

Mitch sighed deeply, pushed himself out of his chair, placed his forearms on Bryony’s shoulders, and looked her square in the face. She wasn’t quite holding him up, but she could feel his weight pressing down.

“Little sister,” he said. “I apologize for all of the times I have doubted you. Clearly, you have much to teach me.”

Tears sprang to Bryony’s eyes. “That’s that nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Before she could offer a hug, Mitch removed his arms and stepped back. “Now go on home before Dad figures out you left without him. I have a game to watch.”

Halfway to her car, Bryony heard Carol call from the porch, “Thanks for the pies. They were delicious.”

Bryony walked back, gave her sister-in-law a warm embrace, and said, “Dinner was wonderful. Thanks for having me.”

At home, she took out the yellow legal pad provided by Etta when they met to discuss a business plan. Together they had worked on a pitch. Bryony crossed out everything she had written and flipped to a fresh sheet.

Nobody can sell love, she wrote. You can’t buy peace. You have peace and feel love when you savor the moment. All over the world, families share a pie when they gather for holidays, for funerals, for a special meal together. Take the time to notice those around you. They are the foundation of your purpose, your passion. Savor those moments. Share a peace today.

Satisfied, she put the pad face down on her desk and gathered her overnight bag.

Tonight she would sleep in Cal’s bed.

Because being in his house made her feel more comfortable than she had ever felt anywhere.

Bailey met her at the door. After walking him, and feeding both him and Buggy, Bryony settled into the reading chair. Soon Buggy came in and assumed her place on the back of the chair, smelling of the sea, brushing Bryony’s cheek with her tail and licking her paws right behind the top of Bryony’s head. Bailey positioned himself at her feet.

All was well with her world.

Cal called at nine o’clock. “Do you need to roll around on the floor to distribute the extra calories?” he asked.

“No.” Bryony laughed “I paced myself.”

“Smart,” he said. “How are the kids?”

“They miss you. Buggy threw up a hairball.” Bailey thumped his tail. “Do you think Bailey understands English?”

“I do!” Cal said. “Thank you for noticing. Everybody thinks I’m crazy when I say he knows the difference between Vivaldi and Mozart. He always chooses The Four Seasons.”

“If you’re crazy, I’m crazy, too,” Bryony said.

“Nice to know I’m not alone.”

This was how they used to talk, before Bryony withdrew from him, which seemed ridiculous now. She slid into the familiar back-and-forth as she moved to the floor to rub Bailey’s back and belly. She talked until she was hoarse. Cal listened, but never remained silent for long. He asked for details about where she was on her pie list and lamented not having sampled all of them, making her promise to repeat the performance when he could taste test. As before, she found their conversation intoxicating.

After a few hours, Cal yawned.

“Go to bed,” Bryony said. “You have to be ready for your father tomorrow.”

“And you have to be ready to cheerfully greet each customer on the biggest shopping day of the year.”

They talked a few minutes longer until she insisted she had to go to bed because Cal sounded like he was falling asleep.

After they both hung up, she carried her small suitcase up the stairs and opened the door to Cal’s room.

Bailey brushed past her and climbed onto the bottom of the bed. Bryony laid her clothes on the chair and put on her nightgown. She went to the bathroom to brush her teeth, came back to turn off the overhead light, and crawled in between the sheets.

The pillow smelled woodsy, like Cal’s aftershave.

Inhaling deeply, Bryony started listing gratitudes. Cal topped the list, and he came at the end, too.

Life was good when it began and ended with Cal.

CAL CHOOSES

The Sunday evening after Thanksgiving, Cal pulled into the driveway of his rented house in Fieldstone. Front and back porch lights cast yellowish glows in the freezing drizzle. Lamps left on in the living room and hallway sparked a tiny hope Bryony’s car might be hidden away in the garage, but Bailey alone greeted him at the front door.

Dropping everything he carried onto the floor in the hall, he leashed up his dog and took him for a walk. When he returned, he wiped Bailey down with a towel, then carried his laundry to the washer and his bag up the stairs.

The house felt different. A whiff of Bryony’s perfume hung in the air. He found small yellow notes stuck in various locations.

On the bed, the note read, I washed your sheets so you wouldn’t have to bother with them when you returned. Not likely he would have given clean sheets a second thought, but he liked the gesture.

When he returned to the first floor, he found a note on the kitchen counter. Bailey and I made a pie last night. Most of it is in the fridge. I did some shopping. I hope I picked out what appeals to you. Cal opened the refrigerator and found oranges, boxed salad, a quart of milk, eggs, sliced turkey, cheese, cottage cheese, celery, carrots, green and red peppers, and a pumpkin pie with a tiny sliver missing. He pulled out the pie, cut his own tiny sliver, and ate it in three bites.

“Oh, my, Bailey. Did you try this? It’s delicious!”

Bailey sat on the mat in front of the sink and cocked his head to the right.

In the pantry, Cal found bananas, apples, sweet potatoes, Idaho potatoes, onions, granola, tuna, a fresh jar of mayonnaise, and a loaf of whole grain bread. He stepped out of the pantry to find Bailey still sitting on the mat. “Did you see all that food in there? I’m counting on your help, buddy.” Bailey cocked his head to the left.

A hand-crafted ceramic mug, one Cal rarely used, sat upside down in the dish drainer. He habitually chose the stained giveaways from The Ohio Teachers Association, The Red Cross, and The Good Shepherd Funeral Home. Bryony’s taste in drinking vessels exceeded his. He should follow her lead in that area.

He opened the cabinet to take out a small plate and pulled the pie from the refrigerator. Cutting off a sizable piece, he placed it on the plate, collected a fork from the drawer, and sat down.

Two bites in, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and selected Heidi’s number.

She answered after one ring.

“I made it home, Heidi.”

“Home is here, Cal. We need you.”