Echo of a Bird's Cry

THE SURVIVOR EMILY DECEMBER 1

Ashely invited me to go cake tasting with her. John had to work. It's a shame he couldn't make it. Cake tasting usually involves the husband-to-be. But Ashely doesn't seem hurt by it. I guess she understands that John's priorities is askew. He puts his career first. That's how he was with Eden too.

We sit in Maya's Bakery, the best bakery in town. Everything looks edible, including the cream-colored walls and cute pastel pink chairs. This bakery is like a tea party for adults. I glance around at the cake displays and photos.

The baker gives us popular samples of cubed cake on long porcelain plates. There are different types of bold flavors: mocha, coconut, red velvet, orange blossom, lemon, Irish cream, and marble.

"Thank you for coming in with me," Ashely says.

"You're my best friend. I'm not going to let you go cake tasting alone."

"That means a lot. It's been difficult adjusting here. I miss California."

"Have you talked to John about it?"

She shakes her head, trying the mocha cake. "This one is good. What kind of frosting is this again?"

"I think this one is espresso buttercream," I say, dipping my fork into the frosting.

"I like the combo of espresso and chocolate."

"The mocha cake is a yes. We have at least seven other flavors to try," I say, eating a piece of coconut cake.

Ashely frowns when she tries it. "The coconut is a no go."

"Let's try the red velvet."

We stick our forks into the blood red cake and cream cheese frosting. "I like this one, too," Ashely says.

Orange blossom is next. She sticks out her tongue. "I'm not a fan of oranges."

"Do you want to try lemon?"

She nods and her eyes expand when she eats a piece. "I love this. The lemon cake is sweet and balanced perfectly with the tang. I also like the lightness of the citrus buttercream."

"I'm putting the lemon cake on the approved list," I say.

"Speaking of lemons, I feel like I have so many right now."

"What's the matter?"

She gives me a wary look. "Eden is still following me. I don't want to put you in an uncomfortable position with your sister."

"I'm sorry. She's getting help. We're trying our best to support her through this, but I know it's difficult for you too."

"Hopefully she will stop soon. I want to try the Irish cream."

"How do you feel about this one?" I ask, biting into a forkful.

"I like the richness and how moist it is."

The marble cake is last. Ashely doesn't like this one. "The flavor is kind of boring."

"So what's your favorite?" I ask.

"The lemon."

"She takes the lemons and made a wedding cake."

Ashely smiles but the concern remains stark on her face.

***

Mary shows me how to make an apple pie. She sets our ingredients on the counter. We have red plump apples, flour, a lemon, sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, and a pinch of salt. She has already made the dough.

Mary hands me the rolling pin. "Take a little flour and sprinkle it on the counter and on the roller before you start."

I follow directions, rolling the dough for the bottom of the pie.

She nods. "You're doing great, Emily."

"Abel told me apple pie is his favorite. Thank you for teaching me how to make it."

She smiles. "You're welcome. Now you can make it for him anytime."

I flatten the sheet of dough against the bottom of the pie plate and roll the top half of the dough. I place the dough in the fridge, preheat the oven, and peel the apples. I squeeze lemon juice over the sliced apples to keep them from turning brown.

"I prayed my son and my husband were living happy lives," Mary says. "God has answered my prayers when he brought you and Abel together."

"It was definitely fate that helped."

"My heart is unbelievably full. I have my son and he has a woman he adores and you both have a bundle of joy on the way. David is healthy and strong. I can't ask for more."

We hug and she shows me how to mix the sugar and spices into the sliced apples and put miniature cubes of butter on top of the sweet pile of goodness. I scoop the filling in and punch the crust closed. Mary shows me how to brush milk over the top of the dough. We add a sprinkle of sugar for a touch of sweetness. I put the pie in the oven.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. "Hello?"

"Hey. It's John. I'm calling because Ashely is in the hospital. She wanted me to let you know."

"Oh God. What happened?"

"She got into a car accident. Someone cut her brakes. Look, I have to go."

I stare at my blank phone, feeling ill. The day filled with confections has turned sour.