Twins for Twins
“One pie or two?” I asked Colleen naively.
“Is that even a question?” Interjected certain member of the clan.
When I arrived with the twin pies on Friday, we were all on our way to somewhere from somewhere. Colleen and Doris were just off the train from DC. The tennis twins were on their way to a piano recital. I barely recognized them at first in their concert pianist finery. Not a hint of jitters, just an confident enthusiasm for pre-performance pastry. We had a nice discussion about how their careers as food artists were coming along.
Sister Atticus brought her entourage: a father and a lady in waiting. I was curious to meet the father of these extraordinary children. He claimed at first not to eat pie. But his curiosity overtook him as though infected by the crowd’s pie hysteria. So when everyone went back for second slices, he took a few bites of Atticus’s. By then, she was already asking about the special cheese and crackers after the concert. That girl thinks several steps ahead. Arlon, who lives in the moment, ate the rest of her slice while she wasn’t looking (after finishing his own second slice).
Denise thought picking the cherries added to their deliciousness. I described the beauty of the orchards, and the family friendly nature of the set up. We’re all going cherry picking next year.
There was a short, violent thunderstorm that ended just in time for Dad and the twins to go to the concert hall. After the twins left, Doris admitted she didn’t trust anyone who didn’t eat pie. Arlon and Andy didn’t mind at all. Less competition.
Then our hostess took a limousine to the airport. She was going to Edinburg; and Andy was going to do the dishes.