I am unpacking a box in my room when the door bell rings.
"Morris!" Dad calls from his room.
I let out a frustrated sigh leaving my room, walking down the hall and downstairs to the front door.
Smiling faces greet me when I swing open the front door but I don't return them. I know I look like a grumpy grandpa in my pajamas and narrowed eyes. Frankly, I don't care because when the 100th family comes knocking at your door to give you a "gift" which happens to be a pie; grumpy grandpa just doesn't cover it.
"Hi, wow. A pie, for me" I murmur sarcastically. I'd fake enthusiasm but don't even have the energy for it.
"Hey! Sport!" A older man ruffles my hair. Please don't do that.
"He is just precious!" His wife pinches my cheeks. I move my head back.
The couple share a look for a second.
I debate silently whether to slam the door in their faces or the pie.
"Well! I'm Kathy and this is my husband Mark! And our son Matthew!" As if she couldn't be any louder at ten o' clock at night. I'm about to tell them it's past my bedtime and I got to go when a boy with a gray t shirt and jeans steps from behind the couple.
He appears normal and he's not dressed like his parents or anybody else in this town that I seen.
"Sup" He nods. Definitely different.
"Hi" I smile. He looks creeped out at my smile but I'm just happy to meet someone at my age -or at least he looks my age- who is normal or different or whatever; same difference.
"Matt, we told you that's not how you say hello to someone" His mother scolds.
"Please, Kate ,your not my mother" Matthew rolls his eyes.
Kate gasps turning to Mark for help. He squeezes her shoulder reassuringly telling her that he'll grow out of it.
I clear my throat just in case they have forgotten my presence.
"Oh! Here! It's pecan." She thrusts the pie into my hands. I hold the warm box giving my thanks to them.
"We'll see you around, sport!" Mark claps my back roughly nearly slapping me off the porch. Matthew notices chuckling before waltzing off with his family.
"Okay" I grumble heading inside and closing the door. I add the box to the stacks cluttering our kitchen counter.
Dad chooses now to come downstairs. His eyes fill with delight at the sight of pies. Pies that I can look at but not touch.
"Sweet! I don't have to go shopping now. We got breakfast, lunch," He opens a meat filled pie " Dinner"
"Yeah" I say " It's so not strange that the whole neighborhood brought us all pies!" I exclaim
"Morris, it was a nice gesture of welcome" Dad says " which I am entirely grateful for,"
I open the fridge sliding a stack of pies on a rack. They all smell so good.
"It's weird like everyone has a pie fetish"
Dad gives me a serious look.
"What? It's true"
The doorbell rings.
"Not the whole neighborhood" Dad laughs leaving me to answer the door to another perky family.
YOU ARE READING
Sweet Maple Pines
Teen FictionRemember Grandma's pie? The first delicious mouth watering slice? Was it Pecan? Maybe Blueberry? Don't answer because when you finished that slice did you ever bother to think where sweet ol' granny got her recipe. She tells you it's secret but this...
