THE SWEET SPOT
Amanda sighed happily as she drew open the door to the Pie Plate, a cool breath of air caressing her skin. She stood aside for a group of diners to leave — a family, it looked like, with two little kids, and felt her own boys close on her heels.
"What is this place?" Jamie demanded as he came across the parking lot. His nose and cheeks were sunburned and peeling, his hair ruffled. He'd been asleep in the car and she knew he was still getting his bearings.
"It's delicious, is what it is," Lee said as he waited beside Amanda for the entrance to clear.
"I thought we were getting burgers," Jamie said, his brows drawing together in a frown.
"They have burgers here," Lee countered, his hand on the door above Amanda's, holding it so she could go through.
"Go with the flow." Phillip strolled through the door after his mother, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his khaki shorts. He stopped at the pastry case just inside. "Check out the desserts."
Amanda caught Lee's eye over Jamie's head. Phillip had a raging sweet tooth, something that was often a source of exasperation for her. But that day she was willing to indulge it. "Uh huh," she said. "Milkshakes, too."
"I'm getting that chocolate cake thing," Phillip said, pointing to a towering layer cake, topped with frosting and ganache and bright sprinkles. Amanda's teeth ached just looking at it. "And then I'm going to go home and slip into a coma."
The waitress motioned for them to follow her across the dining room, and Amanda led the way, happy to be out of the heat and out of the car. They'd been driving all day — Lee had gone with her to pick the boys up from three weeks at camp, and even in her shorts and loose tee shirt the heat felt oppressive. The diner was nearly full, about right for that time of day on a Friday, and everyone looked like they shared her appreciation for the cooler temperature.
The four crowded around one of the few remaining tables, watching eagerly as their water glasses were filled and menus were handed out. Phillip began poring over his menu the way he did a car-repair manual, flipping through the pages with wry commentary. "Soup? As if. Salads, never. Worst part of the meal. Light lunches, I could eat three. Here we go. Double burger with cheese and bacon. Done."
"The burgers are huge," Amanda warned.
"Mom, I've been eating camp food for three weeks. I could eat my arm, your arm, and then a burger, and still have room for that cake I just saw." He shut the menu and leaned back in his chair, and Amanda was struck by how long and gangly he looked. His hair was streaked with blond and freckles dotted his nose. She felt a little pang, the way she always did when she realized he was growing up.
She pushed it down and turned her attention back to her menu, in search of something refreshing and not too filling, which meant she was looking at the very pages her son had just scoffed at. Cobb salad, she decided, and a sweet tea. She looked over at Jamie, who was frowning at the menu. He wasn't a picky eater but he didn't like change, and she knew he'd been expecting fast food instead. It was tradition to zoom through a drive-through on the way home from camp, collapse onto the picnic table in the backyard with their burgers and shakes, and unpack their bags the next morning. What he had never realized was the tradition had been born of necessity — Amanda was usually exhausted by the time they made it home, and she'd done her best to do something special for them.
This year was different. Having Lee along had made the drive seem much shorter. The day before, they'd restocked the fridge until the door almost refused to close. In spite of the heat, Amanda had baked brownies and muffins and Jamie's favourite peanut-butter cookies, and she and Lee had sat on the patio with glasses of chilled wine and shared a plate of cold sesame noodles, a recipe he'd long promised to make for her but until then, never had.
They'd had the house to themselves for a week, though they'd had plenty of time alone with the boys away. Dotty had gone to visit her sister, but even before she'd left she'd made a big show of steering clear of the two of them. Lee had finally just started setting a place for her at dinner and acting annoyed when she claimed she had other plans. "Turnabout is fair play," he told her, and she'd laughed and joined them.
It was during one of these dinners that they'd finally committed to a date for their wedding. The "I-do-over," Lee called it when he and Amanda were alone, or "Dotty's Fondest Wish" when her mother was in the room. Dotty had taken all his ribbing in the spirit it was offered — in the months since they'd returned from California she and Lee had developed a strange bond full of affectionate teasing and mutual respect. Amanda often marvelled at it — it was nothing like she'd ever expected and so very different from Dotty's relationship with Joe, which had always been a fairly typical mother-and-son-in-law dynamic.
The date had been Lee's idea, and something that had taken Amanda completely by surprise. The first Saturday in October, he'd suggested, and once she'd looked at the calendar she realized the actual date was the date they'd met. She'd had no idea he'd remembered, and he confessed that it had come up when he'd been filling out the disability paperwork for her in California. Though she hadn't officially started at the Agency for weeks after that, for some reason Billy had counted it as her official date of employment — likely so they could pay her for her work on the Welch case.
"October is nice," Dotty said, "but there isn't much time to find a venue."
"Oh, we don't need to find a venue," Amanda said. "We're going to do it right here."
That had been Lee's idea, too. He said he'd spent so much time in her backyard that it seemed like the right place. Of course he didn't say that to Dotty — to Dotty he'd just said he thought it would be nice to have something small and simple, because he wasn't a church person and Amanda didn't want a big wedding. And he was right, Amanda didn't want a big wedding.
She had come to realize that this second wedding wasn't really for them. It was for her family, a public performance that would thrill her mother and let them put one of their secrets to rest. She wanted to celebrate with everyone, she'd wanted it all along, but the details were secondary to her in a way she found surprising. What she wanted most of all was to make Lee a real part of her family, surrounded by all the people who mattered most. She knew Dotty thrived on the planning and the particulars, and Amanda was going to let her have it. Lee didn't mind — he felt the same way she did, it turned out. "We had a wedding for us, so now we'll have another for them."
"I can't believe school starts next week," Jamie muttered as he picked the onions off his burger. Amanda caught Lee watching him, curious, and knew he was wondering why Jamie hadn't just asked for no onions.
"Not just school," Phillip said, "about a million extra-curriculars, too."
"Guess I'd better get my oil changed and check my tire pressure," Lee said, wryly. "Trailblazers Wednesday Night Express, back in service."
"No Trailblazers for me," Phillip said. "I aged out."
"And I'm not going either, so you're off the hook," Jamie said. "I'm playing soccer instead."
"You'll still need a ride to that," Lee pointed out.
"I guess. But not as often because we're taking turns with Dustin's dad. And there are no weekend trips." He turned to Amanda. "You must be glad that's over, Mom."
"I used to like them," she said. "They were fun."
"Remember when we went on that camping trip and there was a snake in Andy Osgood's tent?" Jamie said, and Phillip nearly doubled over laughing. Lee caught Amanda's eye across the table, his expression a mixture of amusement and curiosity.
"He almost peed in his sleeping bag, he was so scared. And I thought his dad was going to pass out," Phillip gasped.
Jamie's mouth was wide with laughter. "And then Mom just crawled right in there and grabbed it and tossed it into the trees."
"It was just a garter snake," Amanda said. "It wasn't poisonous or anything."
Phillip sighed. "Andy still talks about that. His dad hasn't been camping since."
"Grandma hasn't either," Jamie said, still twitching with laughter.
"Your grandma has never liked camping," Amanda pointed out. Dotty had never wanted to go, but she'd done it more times than Amanda could count because her grandsons loved it so much and Amanda had often had to work. But the snake had been the final straw, she'd said. She'd only take the boys on trips where there was a hotel reservation involved.
"We should go again next summer," Phillip said, suddenly. "Lee, you've gotta come this time."
Amanda watched her husband shift in his chair, his eyes darting around the room. He hated camping, she knew that, but she wanted to see how he'd break it to the boys. "Well, to tell you the truth I haven't done it much," he said, finally meeting Phillip's gaze. "I didn't get a lot of opportunities to do that sort of thing when I was growing up."
"We can show you the ropes," Jamie said. "It's pretty fun. I mean, most of the time you just sit around a campfire thinking about what you're going to eat next."
"We do more than that," Amanda protested. "We go hiking. And you boys built that fort in the forest once."
"Oh yeah, and then it caved in and we had to pull Jamie out."
"Snakes and cave-ins," Lee said, laughing. "This sounds great. Are you inviting me to get rid of me? I was only good for that one road trip, then it's on to the next guy?"
"Uh oh," Jamie said, nudging his brother. "He figured it out, Phillip."
"I told you he'd catch on if we sounded too enthusiastic," Phillip said, grinning. He poked at the ice in his glass with his straw. "It really is fun. I promise. We've never lost anyone yet. Not even when we've tried."
"Yeah, Mom never lets us."
Amanda shook her head. "You guys." She caught Lee's eye then. "You really don't have to come if you think you'll hate it. I'll take them."
"I'll think about it," he said, but she could tell he was thrilled by the spontaneous invitation, even if it was for something he wasn't generally thrilled about doing.
Amanda couldn't explain the deep relief she felt over the rapport that had grown between Lee and her sons. They'd come back from their long weekend trip sunburned and with a car full of sand, excited to tell her about the antique car show they'd come across near the beach. Phillip had spent hours looking at the cars and asking questions, and Jamie had found plenty of fodder for photography. Lee had looked far more relaxed when they returned than she expected. He said he'd had fun and she felt like he actually meant it. And between that trip and the start of camp, it wasn't unusual for the three of them to finish dinner and head out to the park together or kick a ball around in the backyard until the sun went down. When the boys left for camp, Lee was the one who remarked first about how weirdly quiet the house felt, and Dotty and Amanda had exchanged smiles.
The waitress came to take their empty plates and ask if they wanted dessert. The boys did, of course, but Jamie hemmed and hawed over the menu until Phillip suggested they go look in the pastry case and decide that way. Amanda suspected this tactic was supposed to get Jamie to make a decision based on volume, not flavor.
Amanda sipped from her straw and let out a long breath. "Do you think we should wait until we get home to tell them the news?"
"Maybe." Lee watched the boys thoughtfully. "It's your call."
"Let's just see if we can enjoy dinner first." She saw her sons coming towards them again, engaged in some kind of debate that could either be good-natured or heated. She held her breath, straining to hear what they were saying. They saw her looking at them and stopped their conversation, falling silent as they pulled back their chairs and sat down again.
"Well?" Lee asked. "Verdict?"
"The cake, obviously," Phillip said.
Jamie shook his head. 'The pecan pie," he said, and Amanda couldn't help catching Lee's eye then. His favorite.
"Hey," Lee said, "same here."
"What about you, Mom?" Jamie prompted.
"Oh, I'm not so hungry. It's too hot out." The salad had been perfect, in fact, crisp and cool and exactly what she'd wanted.
"Get one to go," Lee suggested. "Eat it for breakfast tomorrow. You can't come here and not get pie."
"Or cake," Phillip added.
"I'm not gonna eat it for breakfast," she said. "It won't last that long." She knew Lee would eat it if she didn't, probably as they curled up in bed to watch the news or read. She'd eat one bite, or maybe two, and that would be enough, and she'd settle against the pillows to read over case notes (she hardly ever read novels now, she'd had her fill that spring) and try to stay awake until he was done. He'd joke about how they were already an old married couple as he scraped the last flakes of pastry and filling from the plate.
Their dessert arrived — hers in a neat white take-out box — and the boys dug in as if they hadn't eaten all day. Phillip's massive piece of cake disappeared before Amanda got a good look at it, fast enough that Lee asked him if he'd even tasted it. "I did," Phillip said, "and I'd get it again." Jamie, as always, moved at a steadier pace, savoring each mouthful just a little bit before taking another bite, but he still outpaced Lee, who always tried to make his slice of pecan pie last as long as possible. As if he couldn't get in the car whenever he wanted and come for another slice.
"Well," Lee asked Jamie, as Amanda counted out cash to pay the check, "was it so bad?"
"No," Jamie said, rolling his eyes. "It was good."
"See? I haven't brought a single person to eat here who hasn't liked it," he said.
"Maybe you should get that food critic from the Post to come," Phillip said. "He's less judgemental than doofus here."
"I'm not judgemental, doofus," Jamie protested. "I just like what I like."
"Okay, guys," Lee said, holding up a hand to silence them both. Amanda suppressed a smile. "What's important is that we all agree. I don't care about the guy from the Post."
"You used to," Amanda said, laughing.
"I did not."
"Sure you did. You said he liked that Italian place near us — that was why you asked me to go to dinner with you."
"That was an excuse to get you to come out with me," he said. "He never even wrote a review."
"Ha, Mom, it was a line." Phillip laughed, dragging on the straw of his drink.
"And you fell for it," Jamie said, grinning.
"I fell for it because it didn't matter. I wanted to go out with him again anyway." She smirked. "You asked me when we were here, if I remember correctly."
Lee grinned. "Yeah, I did."
"Aw, man. This isn't about to turn mushy, is it?" Jamie asked.
Lee looked surprised. "No," he said, laughing. "It can, though." His eyes twinkled as he looked at Amanda across the table.
Phillip pushed his chair back from the table and scooped up Amanda's container of pie. "Let's get out of here, if that's how it's gonna be."
Jamie got to his feet, too, and Amanda watched her sons lead the way out of the dining room. As they followed, Lee fell into step beside her, his arm sliding around her waist the way it so often did when they walked together.
"Little does he know," Lee said, his voice low.
Amanda laughed. "That's exactly how it's gonna be, huh?"
"All day, every day."
Amanda sighed and slid her arm around him. This, she thought, was the sweet spot. Everyone was safe and happy. The sun was shining. She felt good, better than she had in months. And in a few short weeks they'd be a family for real. At work, at home, everywhere they went. She had everything she wanted, including a piece of pie to go.
Assuming Phillip didn't eat it in the car on the way home.
