Little Mistakes

Club Knocked Up/ Cater's Pie

Reminder that Pomatter's Pie is literally just music playing as a man eats a piece of pie-

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Why was she here? Why the hell did Three book her an appointment with a doctor? Why did she even agree to go out on her birthday?

But most importantly, how was her mother supposed to know?

Six had been standing outside the door to the doctor's office for what felt like a decade now, she was sure the pie in her hand was probably melting from the South's heat.

Slowly, she opened the door, trying to be as secretive as possible (or at least, in her mind she was). She spotted other people sitting in seats, mostly couples smiling and holding hands, while some where miserable looking, looking like they were tired and depressed as they read magazines.

The waitress walked to the counter, wasting no idea in checking herself in, and sitting down. She made no eye contact with anyone, head down as she stared at the pie in her lap. Freshly done this morning, warm colored cinnamon lightly sprinkled on the top of the mouth water pumpkin feeling. A small, neatly placed whip cream drop on the top.

Grandma was going to love it, her cinnamon pumpkin was the old woman's favorite dessert.

"Ms. Little, the doctor will see you now," said a nurse at the door to the right of the room. Six nearly jumped in her seat, fumbling with the pie. With slightly trembling hands, the young woman made her way, brown eyes still wide with a bit of shock and terror.


Once the door closed, a woman shook her head. "Do you remember being that shooken' up?" she asked, bouncing a small toddler as four more kids rough housed under her feet.

The lady next to her shook her head. "Nope," she answered, two babies in her arms, pacifiers in their mouths.


Six was changed into a gown, yellow hoodie and neatly folding next to her. She was still in her small mental breakdown. She sat on the table, holding the pie with a death grip on the foil.

'What if Grandma tells Mama? What if I get kicked out? What if she takes all of my stuff and burns it and then burns on a stake like a witch in the medieval ages?' She thought, the sound of the tin crinkle in her hand.

She could picture it. Her mother having a pleased smile as fires devoured all of her belongs. Then her. Then who got her in this situation.

Six growl a bit. If she found the boy who did this to her, she swore to whatever God he believed in, she was going to rip his-

"Hello! Ms. Little, right?"

Six snapped out of her thoughts, caught off by the new unfamiliar voice. It had a very soft and subtle accent, like someone who had just been exposed to the South just long enough to gain it.

She looked up, seeing a taller young man, smiling. His hair was a fluffy brown color, unnaturally dark blue eyes having a friendly shine to them.

He wore the standard white lab coat, a light blue shirt underneath, with dark blue jeans. In his right ear was a silver cuff, a small chain hanging from it.

Six couldn't help but feel like she had seen him before.

He was the first to point it out, smiling brightly. "Oh, hey, it's you! Man, I'm so sorry about the other day. Me and my colleague got called out to an emergency code black. We meant to try and meet up with you again, but you never-"

"You!" Six shouted. She put the pie down, and jumped off. She was noticeably shorter then him, which momentarily reminded him of a chihuahua. "You are the one who got me in this mess!"