This pie sat patiently in the reception room on Monday morning while everybody’s favorite endodontist put the final touches on a certain baker’s root canal. Then Eva found a dental spatula to cut the still warm pie. And she and I ate a our slices while she continued to answer the phone, and Dr. S. attended to the next (rather grumpy) patient. But I heard tell later that the good doctor enjoyed every morsel of the slice Eva saved for him.
The last bit of pie took the subway back to Harlem. A certain marathon runner came over after her run to have a slice. She took the last slice home for breakfast.