“Mmmm, oh my lord, this is good,” Hunt said, and then chewed it slowly, savoring every taste and texture.
“Thanks,” Ava said, hoping the little-girl crush he’d just resurrected in her wasn’t as obvious as it felt.
Hunt ate the whole piece without saying another word, and then after he was finished, he pushed the plate aside.
Ava felt every nuance of the steel-blue gaze upon her, but had to make herself look up and face it.
“You’re a nurse. And you bake like a pro. What else cool do you do?” he asked.
She leaned forward, her elbows on the table, instantly at ease with him.
“Not much. Just work, take care of myself, and work some more.”
He frowned. “No significant other?”
“One while I was in nursing school. But that was such a bust I kind of lost faith in the opposite sex…present company excluded,” she added.
“Sorry that happened,” Hunt said.
She shrugged. “Life lesson. What about you? Are you married…or taken, as my mother would say?”
“Not now. Not ever. I don’t have a job that lends itself to relationships.”
“What do you do? Where do you live?” Ava asked.
“I live in a house in a suburb of Houston. I’m a chopper pilot.”
Ava’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding! Whatever led you to do that?”
“The army. It’s where I went when I left Blessings,” he said.
The scars. Ava was stunned. All he’d ever talked about was going to college. “You were in the army?”
He nodded. “Want something to drink? I have water and Coke.”
“Water is fine,” she said, and watched as he got up. She didn’t say anything else until he sat back down. “Did you serve active duty…like in Iraq?”
He nodded again. “I flew Apaches for Uncle Sam.”
She took a small sip of water, but her mind was racing.
“Aren’t those the ones that were…that, uh…that carried missiles?”
“Hellfire missiles, among other weaponry, and aptly named. Those choppers have one gunner and one pilot, which was me.”
Ava waited until he finally looked up at her.
“I’m not going to pry,” she said. “But I will say I’m glad you made it home.”
He was surprised by her sensitivity to his reluctance to talk about it.
“Thanks. I’m glad I did, too,” he said.
“And on that note, I think I need to go home and let you get some rest. Will you all sell the house, or are you planning to stay?”
“I promised Mom I’d fix it up to sell,” he said.
“Then you have a big job ahead of you.”
When she stood up, he stood with her, then walked her to the door.
“Thank you for the pie…and the visit,” he said. “It was really nice to see you again.”
“Even if you didn’t recognize me,” she teased.
He grinned. “You were a kid when I left, and I come back to find a very pretty nurse standing beside my mom’s bed. I should get a pass on that.”
“Pretty, huh? Okay then. Pass granted,” she said. “Don’t worry about the pie plate. I’ll pick it up in a few days, and I hope you don’t mind if I pop in now and then to see the changes you’re making.”
“Sure. No problem,” Hunt said. “And thanks again for the pie.”
“My pleasure,” Ava said. “Rest well, and if there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know.”
Hunt turned on the porch light, walked out with her onto the porch, then waited until she got in her car and drove away. After he went back inside, he ate one more piece of pie, then cleaned up the kitchen and called it a night.
* * *
Gordon was still at his buddy’s house watching football when Emma sat down at the kitchen table to eat her supper alone. She was upset that Birdie was angry with her—and knew before tomorrow was over, they would all be on Birdie’s hit list. But there wasn’t anything she could say that would ever make it better.
A couple of neighbors had brought food to the house earlier in the day, so she was picking at that without really tasting it. They had to go view Mama’s body tomorrow after the reading of the will, and if they were satisfied with her appearance, then the funeral home would open her casket for public viewing.
She’d known this day was coming, but the reality of it, coupled with Hunt’s unexpected appearance, was more than she’d bargained for.
She pretended she was asleep when Gordon finally came home. She could smell beer on his breath and knew from the way he was stumbling around trying to be quiet that he’d had too much to drink. But she didn’t want to talk. She didn’t even react when he literally fell into bed, and within minutes he was sound asleep and snoring. She rolled over so that her back was to him and cried herself to sleep.
* * *
Ava thought about Hunt all evening, and then couldn’t sleep after she went to bed, remembering all the times when she was growing up that he’d been her hero and he’d never even known it.
Like the day she fell on her way to Marjorie’s after school and walked in the house sobbing, her elbow and a knee dripping blood. Marjorie ran to get a washcloth and water to clean up the scrapes, and when Hunt walked in behind her and saw the blood, he dropped his books and sat Ava in his lap while his mother cleaned her up. She was eight years old and he was twelve. In her mind, he was nearly grown.
As she plumped the pillow beneath her neck, she thought about the time he caught Junior and Ray teasing her and pulling her hair. He walked up behind them, grabbed both of them by the hair, and yanked so hard they fell backwards, yelling and begging him to stop.
“Did that hurt?” he asked.
“Yeah! What’s the matter with you?” Junior yelled.
“Now you know how Ava felt. Do it again and I’ll shave you bald,” he said.
He was fourteen, and in her eyes, practically perfect.
Ava sighed, then rolled over onto her side, remembering how he’d helped her with math she couldn’t get, and given her the last cookie on the plate for a treat when she finally understood.
Hunt was always my hero.
Then she closed her eyes and finally fell asleep.
* * *
Hunt woke early and lay there for a few moments, wishing for his NordicTrack or access to some weights. He was used to running at least two miles every morning before work, and the change in routine was just another aspect of what was happening.