The Latent Talents of Mr. Rick

-----Original Message -----
From: Rick
To: Erin
Subject: Baking is, um...

...not my thing.

Who follows directions, anyway? Fascists, that's who!!

[end]

Which is worrisome.

And I pictured him with flour on his nose. And dough stuck in the hair on his arms. And a soup of fruit and cornstarch marinating in vain.

And I imagined him sighing. And swearing.

And I was certain I'd come home to some lopsided, endearing mess of a pie.

But here's what greeted me instead:

A last-of-the-season peach pie. That is as heavenly to eat as it was a struggle to make.

Or maybe more heaven and less struggle. I don’t know.

He’s not telling.