Chapter 84

Late Sunday afternoon, the doorbell rang, but Chris didn't pay it any attention. Despite the packed living room and family room, it seemed more people had arrived, his mother's fault for being such a good cook. Who could blame so many of his family, friends and neighbors for showing up? No sane person could resist the mouthwatering smells coming from the kitchen ? and the slap on his hand was well worth the taste.

The glimpse he'd gotten of the pumpkin pie, with whipped cream on top, made him want to do battle so he wouldn't have to share. He restrained himself though from rescuing the pie. The last time he did that ? trying to sneak off with it to the woods with a single fork ? the pie got destroyed when his brothers caught him. 'No, not my precious,' he'd cried as it soared in the air and hit the floor upside down. Pissed, his mother had him and his brothers doing slave chores for weeks afterward. Years later, he still mourned the loss of the pie no one got to taste.