Key Lime Pie (6 page)

“It has to work,” Sadie said, her stomach clenching at the thought of what would happen if certain details were filtered over backyard fences. “You know as well as anyone that I can’t risk anyone knowing what I’m up to.”

“You mean you spending the weekend with Eric Burton, alone in Florida, one of the top ten most romantic places in the United States?”

Sadie groaned, making Gayle laugh.

“I’m kidding,” she said. “But you can’t blame me for teasing just a little bit.”

“I wouldn’t be going at all if not for the fact that I think Eric is in some kind of trouble.”

“But he doesn’t know you’re coming, does he?”

“Not yet,” Sadie said, shifting in her seat. “I’m not sure if I should call before I head out, or after I arrive.”

“Oh, you should surprise him,” Gayle said. “It’s way more romantic that way.”

“This isn’t a romance-inspired trip,” Sadie said. “I’m just worried about him.”

“I know,” Gayle said with a flippant tone. “Some of the best romance novels I’ve read are because two people get thrown together in a decidedly unromantic way, only to fall head over heels in love with one another. It’s my favorite kind, so you shouldn’t tell him you’re coming—just appear on his doorstep and
show
him how worried you are.”

“I don’t think things happen quite like that in real life,” Sadie said. She’d already fallen for the police detective and that plot had been done a million times, yet it hadn’t gotten her very far.

“Okay, fine,” Gayle said. “Call him and have him tell you he doesn’t want you to be there. Then you can ignore him while you get to the bottom of things—that’s a much better catalyst for a future relationship.”

Sadie considered her limited options. “You make a very good point,” she said.

“Of course I do,” Gayle said with confidence.

Sadie changed the subject back to their arrangement. “You’ll get the trailer cleaned up?”

“You bet,” Gayle said.

“Thank you.” Sadie let out a breath. She was coming up on the I-76 and had just passed a sign that read “Denver 86 miles.” Her flight left at 5:23—the timing was perfect, which must mean she was meant to do this, right? “I owe you one.”

“Do I get to choose the payback?” There was a new undercurrent to Gayle’s voice. A serious tone that caused Sadie to tense slightly despite herself. It was such a quick shift between moods that Sadie couldn’t help but be concerned by it.

“What?” Sadie asked, worried she’d misunderstood.

“Do I get to choose how you pay me back?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Gayle paused for a moment. “Never mind,” she said, laughing nervously.

“No, what do you mean?”

“Nothing. I shouldn’t have said anything. So, do you want me to call you when the trailer is ready?”

“Gayle,” Sadie said in a commanding, yet calm, tone. “What do you mean about choosing how I pay you back?”

Another pause. Sadie waited this one out. After a few seconds, Gayle took the bait.

“You and Pete broke up, right?” Gayle asked, hurrying on before Sadie could confirm it. “Is it the ‘I hate you and now my friends hate you too’ kind of breakup, or the ‘We mutually respect each other and have no problem with our friends still being friends’ kind of breakup?”

It took a moment for Sadie to figure out exactly what Gayle was saying. When she did, she felt the blood drain from her face a little bit. “You want my permission to date Pete?”

“Well . . . um . . . It’s just that now that you’ll be out of town, I have an extra ticket to the Renaissance dinner on Saturday.”

Sadie was surprised by how much the idea bothered her. She was well aware of Gayle’s attraction to Pete—Gayle was not subtle—but neither of them had let it get in the way of their friendship. Pete did not belong to Sadie. He never had, really. Yet picturing Gayle on Pete’s arm, Gayle laughing at his jokes, Pete walking Gayle to her door at night—it all made Sadie’s stomach tighten. Why? She could think of no reason not to give her blessing other than a humiliating amount of selfishness. Selfishness was wrong. Keeping Pete and Gayle from a potential relationship was even . . . wronger. Never mind that Gayle was breaking one of the cardinal rules of best friendship—never going for your best friend’s guy. If Sadie had known Gayle wanted to date Pete, she may have reconsidered putting her trust in Gayle at all. But it was too late now; she’d already laid the whole plan at Gayle’s feet. She was over a barrel.

“I’m sorry,” Gayle said suddenly, alerting Sadie that she’d paused too long. “It was out of line for me to ask. Pretend I never said anything. Anyway, about the trailer—”

“Of course it’s fine,” Sadie cut in, purposely lightening her tone and hoping it would help banish all selfish thoughts from her mind. Pete had released her from any commitments they had in order to ensure she could seek out her own best future. Didn’t he deserve the same consideration? “I don’t have a problem with the two of you going out.” She was such a liar sometimes.

“Really? Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt our friendship over some super-hot detective you don’t want to date anymore. You’re much more important to me.”

It might have sounded like Gayle was simply overstating things, but Sadie knew she meant every word. If Sadie said, “No, you can’t date Pete because he was mine first,” Gayle would accept that—grudgingly, perhaps—but she’d accept it all the same. But knowing that made it even more unfair for Sadie to hold either of them accountable to her prior feelings toward Pete.

“I’m sure,” Sadie said. “You’re both wonderful people and I want you both to be happy.” If that happiness was found with each other, well, that was wonderful. Wasn’t it?

“You don’t think he’s so devastated by the breakup that he needs more time to recover, do you?” Gayle asked, hope rising in her voice.

Sadie thought back to the very logical and unemotional way Pete had addressed the issue between them last night. “No,” she said, a little sad to admit it. “I don’t think he’s devastated.”

“Oh good,” Gayle said with relief. “I wouldn’t want to put myself on the altar of relationship rebounding, ya know?”

“No rebound,” Sadie said, trying to convince herself she was warming up to the idea. “But you promised me you wouldn’t tell anyone what I’m doing, remember? Especially Pete.” Sadie felt a touch of panic. If Gayle didn’t keep her secret . . . Sadie couldn’t think about that. It was too late to call anything back.

“Of course not,” Gayle said. To her credit, she sounded sincere in her response. Sadie had no choice but to trust her and put her faith in their years of friendship.

There was another pause; the mood had definitely changed over the last couple of minutes. Sadie finally broke the silence. “Anyway, I’d better go. Call me tomorrow.”

“Great,” Gayle said. “I’ll call in a substitute for Meals on Wheels, and then I’ll take the trailer key to Eric’s neighbor when I’m done cleaning it up.”

“That would be great,” Sadie said, thanking Gayle and ending the call. Once she hung up the phone, she allowed her thoughts to leave Garrison, Gayle, and Pete. She needed to focus on what was ahead of her, rather than those things left behind. Gayle would protect Sadie’s reputation and fulfill Sadie’s agreement to prepare the trailer for sale. Sadie, on the other hand, needed to get ready for what was awaiting her in Florida.

The drive to Denver International Airport was uneventful, except for the lingering discomfort Sadie felt each time she pictured Pete and Gayle going to the Renaissance dinner Saturday night. Would Pete accept the invitation? Part of her hoped he wouldn’t—hoped he
did
have something to get over. Then she felt guilty for such thoughts. She’d given her blessing. She eventually gave herself a strong enough talking-to that she could let it go—for the most part—and fully focus on Eric and Florida instead.

Since she had to check the box as luggage—which she’d amply wrapped with duct tape and marked
fragile
—she checked her suitcase as well and had time to grab some dinner in one of the restaurants near her terminal. One would think that a chef’s salad would be difficult to do poorly, but airport food was in a class of its own. The lettuce was limp, the tomatoes were tasteless, and the ranch dressing was too sweet. On her way out of the café, she saw a selection of pies in the front case. She zeroed in on the key lime pie, feeling it was only appropriate to have a slice of Florida’s official state pie. Certainly it would be better than the salad.

She took a seat at a booth and smiled as the waitress set down the pie in front of her. For whatever reason her thoughts began waxing poetic and as her fork hovered over the slice of pie, she took note of the triangular shape—the three corners. Gayle, Pete, and Sadie? Or maybe Eric, Pete, and Sadie? She brought the edge of her fork down and cut off the tip of the pie. Now there were four corners. What was once a triangle was now closer to a rectangle—Gayle, Sadie, Eric, and Pete? She sighed and put the bite in her mouth, prepared for zippy, tangy, creamy goodness.

Instead the meringue was too sweet, and Sadie could barely taste the lime. No zip, no tang, and the graham cracker crust was soggy. Sadie ate half of the pie before determining it wasn’t worth the calories or the six dollars she’d paid for it. Convinced she’d have a chance to taste good key lime pie once she arrived in Florida, she threw away the uneaten portion and grabbed a packet of peanut butter M&M’s from one of the gift shops instead. The M&M’s were really good, which spoke volumes about the pie.

The plane to Miami left on time, but since the flight was nearly four hours long and Florida time was two hours later than Colorado, it was after midnight when Sadie arrived. She hadn’t calculated the time quite right, so her plans of driving straight to the address Eric had given her wasn’t an option. Instead, she picked up a rental car, relieved that she didn’t need to have a reservation, and then followed the lit-up signs to the airport Hilton.

Even at night she could feel the thickness of the air. She didn’t have much experience with humidity and she hoped it wouldn’t be too hot tomorrow. If it was, she hoped she had brought the right kind of clothes.

It wasn’t until she was alone in a strange room, in a strange city, staring at a strange ceiling that she wondered if she should have just mailed the box like Eric had asked and been done with it. She hadn’t necessarily meant to follow Gayle’s advice of surprising Eric, but she’d managed to do it anyway and wasn’t sure how to proceed in the morning. What would he do when he realized she had come in person?

And yet, despite the discomfort all these thoughts brought to mind, it was difficult to imagine having done anything different. Eric was in trouble; she could feel it. It wasn’t normal to need so much money so quickly. She had a feeling that he’d listed the trailer at a price far below its value in hopes that it would sell quickly. And it would. The people of Garrison were notoriously cheap. She made a note to ask Gayle to check out his ad in the morning.

Gayle. Had she called Pete already?

With a grunt, Sadie rolled onto her side and forced her eyes closed. Morning was coming whether she was well-rested or not, but it would be an easier day if she got some sleep. Still, her stomach remained in knots as she thought about Eric not too many miles away. Should she call him and tell him she was in Florida, even though it was the middle of the night? Was showing up on his doorstep in the morning too rash? Argh, what was she doing? Her brain finally shut off and allowed her to drift into dreamless sleep.

Sadie woke at eight, then hurried to get ready. She hoped to intercept Eric before he went anywhere for the day. She ordered a good Southern breakfast from room service—biscuits and gravy—and then flung open her curtains to greet the inspiring view of office buildings and streets crowded with the downtown Miami morning commute. Lovely.

With breakfast on the way, she took a quick shower and was nearly ready by the time someone tapped on her door, announcing “Room service.”

She wriggled as she sat down at the small table by the window, excited by such an appropriate start to her day’s adventures even if she only had two minutes to eat, but within one bite she found herself less than impressed. She felt sure the gravy had come from a can. The next hotel room she rented would have a kitchenette, she decided. Then she’d make her own biscuits and gravy, which, if she did say so herself, were amazing.

Not wanting to make the kitchen staff feel bad—she was convinced they checked the plates and based their self-esteem on how much food was gone—she ate about half, but couldn’t force herself to eat the rest. She repacked her suitcase, slipped forty dollars into her pocket for emergencies, and headed downstairs to check out.

On her way to the rental car, she grabbed a banana and a muffin from the hotel café. When she stepped outside, she was again slapped around by the humidity, which was thicker and hotter than it had been when she had arrived last night. With a little luck, she’d get used to the weather pretty fast.

Once in her car she turned it on and plugged in the handy-dandy GPS unit she’d bought at Walmart a few months earlier. She and Gayle had gone to Denver looking for this boutique they’d heard carried those darling red-bottomed shoes Oprah wore all the time. After finding themselves lost three times, Sadie had invested in a GPS system; she had no doubt it would be put to good use here in Miami.