Page 9 of Eden's Joker

“I thought you said you were in these parts visiting family,” she says, some doubt creeping into her eyes. That’s what I’ll get for telling her actual personal things and not staying completely focused on this mission.

“Not actual family. More like the places where my family is from.”

I do probably have some family in these parts. My mom was from North Cali. But fuck them. None of them wanted me when I was a six-year-old orphan and I hope they’re all dead by now.

“Oh, yeah? Where’s that?”

“A little town called Justice, you heard of it?”

She shakes her head. “Can’t say that I have. But what an interesting name… I bet some big Wild West shootout happened there, or something.”

I catch the door as another couple of people carrying boxes leave the pie shop. “Could be. It’s in the middle of the desert.”

“Oh, I don’t like the desert,” she says as she walks into the shop.

She won’t like it any better after I show her the town of Justice. It’s where my MC’s headquarters are and where I’ll take her once I’m done getting her to trust me. That’s why it was stupid telling her the name of the town. But even if she goes searching for it, she won’t find it, since it’s not on any map.

The pie shop smells delicious, of cinnamon, apple, cherries, and buttery crust baked to perfection. And as she waltzes over to the counter with a huge smile on her face and cheeks the color of ripe cherries, I just know I’ll always associate those scents with her from now on. Good thing I don’t like pie or sweet things.

“What will it be?” the woman behind the counter asks. A ridiculous old school chef’s hat is resting lopsided on her head, kinda matching the smile on her face. She’s being nice and friendly, but I can tell she’s fed up with the endless stream of people wanting pie. It’s all in the eyes. And hers tell me this is not where she expected to end up in life.

Eden is blissfully oblivious to all that as she chats with her, asking how her day’s been and which pies the lady would recommend. All that sweetness makes even the fed-up lady’s eyes light up somewhat as they go over the menu.

“We’ll take one of each.” Eden glances at me, grins and pulls me closer by wrapping her arm under mine. “He says he’s not that into pie, but I’m gonna change his mind today.”

I nearly stumbled from the sheer shock of hertouching me out of the blue like that. The lady thinks that’s a great idea and proceeds to load up two boxes with a slice of every kind of pie they offer, rattling off the different flavors as she goes—pecan, cherry, apple, pumpkin, rhubarb, peach, apricot, chocolate, and on and on.

Eden orders us a couple of scoops of the vanilla ice cream on top of all that, then has me carry it all while she pays. Scorpio and the rest of my inner circle would be on the floor laughing if they saw me right now. And some of our other members, the ones I don’t know so well, would probably take me out back and shoot me in the head, thinking I’ve lost it and need to be put out of my misery.

But fuck it. If pie and ice cream and letting her pay is what it takes to win her trust, then so be it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you in there,” she says as she holds the door for me so we can exit.

“You didn’t.”

“I just thought, since you didn’t have a big family… and didn’t get a chance to enjoy pie until now…” she says and blushes even harder. “I just thought I’d fix that.”

Wow, she’s trying to make me feel better. I knew words can pack a punch, but not like this. Must be the smell of all this pie I’m carrying making me all sentimental though, not her sweet girl words. I never had any time for sweet, soft girls. They’re boring. Likevanilla ice cream. But damn if a part of me didn’t react to her kindness just now.

But what the fuck do I care?

Once I’m done with her, she won’t have any of that kindness left. So it’s good I let her use it while she still can.

7

Eden

After the pie shop, I led him to a park at the edge of town. It’s full of rolling grass mounds dotted by white, pink, yellow and blue wooden benches, interspersed by cool sculptures of all shapes, sizes and colors. We sat on a yellow bench under a willow tree and near a sculpture of a mother holding a child intricately depicted in finely worked metal that shines gold when the sun hits it.

We made a valiant go at eating all the pies, but even I had to admit defeat before we were even halfway done.

“So, what did you think?” I ask. “Do you love pie now, or what?”

He looks at me from the side and makes a sound that’s something between a chuckle and a scoff. “I think I went right past liking it to eating so much I never want to see it again.”

I laugh, perhaps to cover the mortification of hearing him say that and the blushing it caused. Or just because it’s funny. I don’t even know. Maybe it’s all the sugar, but I feel like I’m floating aways off the ground and it’s been that way since he joined me in that tea shop. I’ve read about this. It means I like him. Or it could just be the sugar in all those pies we sampled.

“Sorry,” I say. “Maybe I went a little overboard.”

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