A Squirrel Nut

MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Wordle #267

Prompt words in red.

      Min was out early, sticking fliers under doormats and behind screen doors, trying to drum up business for her fledgling bakery.  She had spent the last couple of years after high school working for a family owned business that started downtown when she was a baby.  Unfortunately, Min was made "redundant" a few months ago; the owners were semi-retired and cutting back hours.  As much as she hated to compete with her mentors, she had bills to pay.  Min believed a new, fresh approach (along with her grandmother's recipes!) might draw people in, so with an inheritance from her grandmother, she rented a small storefront with a well equipped kitchen, and large plate glass display windows to showcase her goods.

     As she turned up the brick walkway of the next house on her route, she was surprised to see pies cooling on a windowsill, something she didn't think people did anymore.  Her grandmother had done it, but now Min thought that was only in books, or on old-fashioned homey television dramas, the kind her grandmother was addicted to on The Hallmark Channel.  Her heart tightened in sorrow at the memory.

     Oh, how she would have liked to complain each Thanksgiving, but held her tongue out of love for the old woman.  Her grandmother had a stroke in October of last year, and Min, scared she would have another while alone in the house, offered to move in.  That Thanksgiving was the last they spent together.  It was just the two of them, so a quiet affair, but grandma was still a good cook, and with Min's help they were able to prepare quite a feast, including the pies from recipes that had taken fair blue ribbons for decades.  They spent a cozy day together.  The Thanksgiving Day Parade... and early turkey dinner... the sappy Hallmark holiday movie binge watch.  She'd give anything to bring back that day.

     As Min approached the covered porch to fit a flyer behind the screen door, she noticed a red squirrel scamper up the elm that shaded the front yard, and edge its way along a branch to jump to the porch railing.      

     "Awesome," Min exclaimed to herself.  She loved squirrels, chipmunks, jays, all little critters she and her grandmother used to feed each day.

     The thought made Min sad, as they had spent many early mornings watching the wildlife at the feeders.  Min longed to settle down right there on the top step to watch the squirrel.

     But, look!  The squirrel headed toward the window, and those pies!  Min jumped up, and, as her grandmother used to say to get Min to hurry it up, "Put your pedal to the medal, girly!" waved her arms wildly in the air, calling out "SCAT!  SCAT! Get out of there!"  The squirrel glanced calmly in her direction, responded with a twitch of its tail, and closed in on the pies.  Min watched as it leaned over and took a bite, then sat up on its haunches with a large chunk of crust in its paws.  

     Oh, no!  Min turned to the door, and hurriedly slammed the acorn shaped doorknocker down repeatedly, and with much force.  It took a few moments for any response.  Then, the door cracked open wide enough to see a stooped elderly man.  He was wearing an apron dotted with multi-colored acorns, and what looked to be blueberry juice stains.

     "Excuse me, sir," started Min without preamble.  "I see you have pies on the sill and there's a squirrel getting into one of them."

      The door fully opened at this news, and the man stepped out onto the squirrel-shaped doormat.  He turned a toothless smile towards Min.  Min felt as if she knew him, or had seen him before, perhaps in a photo somewhere.  He looked old enough to even be a city founding father, her grandmother's generation!

     "That's Chuck, and that there's Chuck's pie!  He's partial to pecan.  The other pie's blueberry, his brother's choice.  His brother's called Frodo.  He'll be along soon enough; he's always a bit late for breakfast, the lazy guy sleeps late, I guess.  You probably figured out on your own that I'm quite a squirrel nut.  Ha!  Squirrel nut!  Get it?"  He slapped on age-speckled hand on his leg.

     Not giving Min time to respond, he continued.  "Hey, are you that new baker gal in town?  My grandson found one of your fliers under his mat the other night and mentioned it to me, thought the name sounded familiar.  I didn't imagine he'd listened to me that closely!"  He laughed.

     "I knew your grandmother; in fact, we were high school sweethearts, way back when.  I was sure sorry to hear about her passing. If you'll be using her crust recipes, you'll do real well.  I never did figure out what made them so special.  Would you like to come in and have a slice of my pie?  Try it one for size, as it were?  Maybe tell me what I'm doing wrong?  If it isn't a trade secret, of course!  I've got blueberry and pecan, warm from the oven.  Oh, no, not those on the sill!"  He laughed again seeing the look on her face.

 

     "I bake double for me and guests!"

    

 

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