Chương 52: Pumpkin Season (October-November) Part 8
Felicia looked at Fabian appraisingly.
"Fabian, do you wear sweaters?" she asked. He looked at her, confused.
"Sometimes. I don't have a lot of them. Why?" Lisa laughed.
"It's admission to our family," she told him. "You have to give up your measurements to Felicia."
"Felicia likes to knit," Craig explained. "Honey, I don't think you'll get a whole lot done trying to measure Fabian just now. Between your belly and Fabian's build, I'm not sure you can wrap a tape measure."
"I can do it," Lisa volunteered. "You can tell me if I have the right places, Felicia. And you can take notes." Felicia pulled a tape measure and a pad and pencil from her purse. She was very thorough; Fabian couldn't imagine what she'd need some of the measurements for.
"I don't always need all of this," she said as if reading his mind, "but I've discovered I'd rather have measurements that I don't need than need some that I don't have. And depending on the pattern, a lot of seemingly strange things could be necessary. Are you allergic to anything? Wool?"
"No," Fabian shook his head. "The sweaters that I have are wool."
"Great. Thank you, Fabian."
"And you win a beer." Craig grinned, handing a can to Fabian.
"It's funny having you three in the kitchen again," Maude said. "I remember that summer you were here, Fabian -- you, Craig and Lisa were thick as thieves."
"I remember more about that summer all the time," Fabian said, opening his beer and taking a quick swig. "The longer I'm here, the more of that summer seems to awaken. I remember those straw mazes in the barn. And didn't we have a fort?" Three boys came in at that moment -- Steve and Carol's Scott, age seven, and Peter, age three, with Craig and Felicia's Daniel, who was also three.
"Mom, we're hungry," Scott complained to Carol. "Hi, Mr. DiSanti!"
"He's Uncle Fabian today," Lisa reminded him, and offered him the vegetable plate. "Here are some veggies." Scott wrinkled his nose, and Lisa laughed. "Okay, then. There might be pretzels in the living room. You know your grandpa always has pretzels somewhere."
"Hey!" Hal protested.
Lisa's kitchen is impressive. She helped to design it when her grandmother put it in the old workshop, so she can work in there very efficiently.
"Come in!" Lisa called. She was rolling out pie crust in her kitchen and was too covered with flour to answer the door. To her surprise, Pablo Moreno stepped in.
"Hi," he said.
"Hi, Pablo. How have you been?"
"I could ask you the same question. The last time I saw you was at your grandmother's funeral. Are you holding up okay?"
"Thank you for asking. Some days are better than others."
"Don't I know it," he sighed. "I need to talk to you. Do you have a little time?"
"Very little. Do you mind if I work? I have an order to fill and I don't like to be late."
"If anyone understands cooking pressures, it would be me," he replied. "Roll away."
"Have a seat." She indicated the step stool near the counter that had a seat on top. Pablo sat on it.
"First of all, I owe you an apology."
"You do?"
"Yes I do. And you know I do and you know why. But in case you need to hear me say it, I'm very, very sorry about what happened in high school with you, me and the twins. I had no business asking you to do such a thing -- to ask you to help me use two really nice girls so I could throw them away when I got bored. It was offensive and wrong. I've already apologized to Amy, who seems to think things worked out. I was a selfish bastard, Lisa. And before you get suspicious, I'm not here to come on to you. I know you're engaged; I know you're happy, and I know Fabian. I'm here to apologize to you because I treated you horribly years ago and I didn't want that hanging over our heads."
Lisa smiled.
"Fabian told me you guys got things straightened out between you. I'm glad."
"He's a good guy. I'm sorry for what I did to him, too, and he knows that now. Did he tell you about when we were in college together?" Lisa nodded, putting the rolled pie crust into a dish and taking out another ball of dough to roll out.
"I've been a jerk for a lot of years," Pablo said. "I'm hoping that people are willing to give me another chance."
"I'm sure they will, Pablo."
"There was something else. Do you have an exclusive contract with the diner for your pies?"
"No. I still sell them at the farmers market and whenever I can privately. Of course the market is going to close soon."
"Would you be interested in selling some pies for desserts at the Tavern?"
Lisa gaped at him.
"Are you serious?!" Pablo laughed.
"I am. I'm the chef, Lisa. I decide the menu. Your pies are as much a part of Twin Mills as the mills and the camp. Since the Tavern has a completely different clientele than the diner, you'd be reaching more people -- you said you sell whole pies, right?"
"To individual people? Yes. Usually through the diner, but Fabian's brother has been making me re-think how I do business. He's working on his CPA and works with Mr. Workman."
"Yeah, Franco." Pablo grinned. "I've met him through the Tavern -- he does our books. Good guy and really knows his stuff. Any advice he gives you, take it. Would you be interested in supplying a pie or two to the Tavern?"
"Absolutely," Lisa smiled, filling another pie dish with rolled crust and retrieving another dough ball from her bowl. "I can do other desserts, if you're interested. Cheesecakes and things of that sort."
"I might be." Pablo smiled back. "Make some samples for me. But don't try too hard, Lisa."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I know you've lived here all of your life and I know you think of the Tavern as upscale and gourmet. Don't change anything with your pies and desserts. I asked you for your pies because they're your pies. If I wanted unusual gourmet creations, there are places I could go to order them."
Lisa looked at him.
"My pies are awfully ordinary, Pablo."
"And that's what I want," he replied. "Comfort food. A taste of home. How does it work -- ordering your pies?"
"In spring, summer and fall, I use fruit in season. I do pies in that flavor as long as the fruit season lasts. I might do an all-season flavor or two like lemon meringue or coconut custard as a change of pace during that time. These are the last of the pumpkin pies -- I start the Christmas pies next week."
"Which is?" Lisa placed the rolled crust into another waiting pie dish and retrieved another ball of dough.
"It's a cranberry creation. Not a pastry. I'll bring you a sample. In the winter, I tend to be more arbitrary. I assign a different kind of pie per month until cherry season comes back in May. So you may not want more than one or two pies a month during the winter if you want a varied dessert menu. And you definitely might want to add a cheesecake or two." Lisa smiled. "This is weird."
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