Page 88 of Broken Pieces
“When it comes to this? Yes,” he replies.
He taps a few things on his phone and holds the screen up to me. “The county fair is next weekend. I think you should enter the pie contest.”
My eyes flicker between him and the phone. It’s been four years since I entered. I was supposed to do it the year Tyler died. My final hoorah before leaving for Yale. But I lost all interest for it when he died. “I don’t think so, Brooks.”
“Why not?”
I exhale as I unwrap my legs from his waist. “I haven’t done it in four years.”
He puts his phone back into his pocket and crosses his arms. “That isn’t a reason. I think you should reclaim your crown.”
“It’s a blue-ribbon contest. There is no crown.”
He shakes his head at me. “That’s not the point, Rae. Remember we are trying to fix the broken pieces. I think this is a good start.”
“He’s right you know.”
I nearly jump off the counter when I hear my brother. “What are you doing here?”
He walks further into the kitchen, finding a spot across from us. “Harper was tired, so I came to pick up the stuff for the diner.”
“Come on Rae,” Brooks says, “this will be amazing. I know if you make your blueberry pie, you’ll win.”
I blush thinking of the last time Brooks was in the kitchen with me as I made blueberry pie. “I don’t know. I don’t want any bad memories to come back.”
“How could you have bad memories of the pie contest, Raely?” Easton asks. “You won every year from when you first entered. If anything, this will bring back memories of baking with Mom. You said it makes you feel closer to her when you bake.” He runs his hand through his long hair. “I honestly can’t believe I am agreeing with Brooks, but you should do this.”
I glance between my brother and Brooks. “What if I don’t win? I don’t think that will help me at all.”
Brooks clasps a hand over my knee, and I don’t miss that Easton’s eyes go right to it. “Babe—ugh Rae, I have had your pie. It is the best thing I have ever tasted.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s good enough to win.”
I can tell he is uncomfortable around Easton. He knows Easton knows something is going on between us, but I can tell he is trying to play it normal around him. “You don’t need to win, Rae. I just think this will help.”
I look down at my hands. I am not sure what to do. I mean it’s just a pie baking contest. I make pies every damn day. And I know they are good. But putting myself out there again seems daunting.
Easton steps closer to me and places his hand over mine. “If you don’t do this for you, can you do it for me?”
I can’t say no to my brother especially with that look in his eye. A look I haven’t seen since I was a kid. I nod my head at the same time I say okay.
Brooks and Easton both whoop in excitement and I start to think that maybe this isn’t just one more step to healing my broken pieces but to help heal my brother’s as well. And maybe in the process, he will come around to Brooks.
* * *
“Did you talk to Easton?” I ask my sister into the phone as I lounge on the couch on the back deck of the house.
“You know I don’t talk to him that much,” Tacoma answers, the loud noise of New York City in the background.
I twist a piece of my hair between my fingers, powdered sugar falling from the edges. “I know, but I thought he might tell you this. I decided to enter the pie contest in the county fair tomorrow.”
“Shut the fuck up, really?”
“Yep,” I say as I hear muffled noises and her yelling at someone in the background.
“Sorry, some asshole on rollerblades literally just ran into me. Anyway, that’s amazing. I am so proud of you. When did you decide to enter?”
“I was actually persuaded my Easton and Brooks.”