And twenty six cents.
Based on true events.
A puff of smoke blinded him as he struggled to get the pie out of the oven. He kicked the door closed with his foot and quickly turned it off before coughing into his arm. Before the smoke alarm could announce that there was no fire he wrenched the kitchen window open, letting a few snowflakes cradle the sill. He let a breath out and watched it dissolve in the freezing London air. Hardly any cars were on the street and the ones that were didn't move. The snow had piled up to the letterboxes this year making postmen quite unwilling to go to work. Late Christmas cards might be coming even later. That was okay with Angus since his parents had already dropped by the other day for dinner. Plenty of potatoes, casseroles, hams, and puddings covered the table, not to mention Mrs. Young's pie.
Which was exactly the kind of pie Angus left to cool on the stove. The faulty oven luckily hadn't ruined it and it looked just like the one they ate for Christmas. Well, maybe the crust wasn't quite as black on one side and perhaps it didn't smell like smoke but other than that you couldn't tell them apart. Angus had figured since the band hadn't gotten together for the holidays besides himself and Malcolm, that they might want a bit of pie too. Mrs. Young had warned him to take it out of the oven at just the right time or else it wouldn't come out right. This was her special recipe and Angus would hate to sully her good name by ruining it.
It was also a chocolate pie. Angus wasn't about to mess it up.
The apartment door opened and closed quietly, little feet stamping on the mat before two shoes were hastily kicked off. Only the shuffling of a coat and a scarf could he distinguish entering the kitchen and there she stood; brown hair covered in snowflakes, cheeks pinked, hands in pockets and nose running. "Ya' have fun out there?"
Hannah sniffed.
"That's good."
"I'm thinking of going into hibernation." Angus grabbed a milk bottle from the fridge and a glass from the cupboard.
"Are ya'? Why's that?"
"The little boy from the apartment below us was building a snowman and mistook my arms for tree branches." Pouring himself a glass, Angus nodded.
"I see. And did you say his nose looked like a carrot?" Hannah shuffled over to the stove and grabbed the kettle.
"No. I just meant that without fifteen layers of clothes on it's too cold to stay out there long." She filled the kettle and turned the stove on pretending not to notice the delicious smell of the pie right in front of her. "So, I'm hibernating."
"If it means gettin' to sleep then count me in. Anythin' to not wear more clothes than I have to." He took a drink of milk and almost spit it out from laughing as Hannah tickled his neck from behind. "An' if I know you as well as I think I do, you're not gonna let yourself miss out on snow like this."
Hannah couldn't take her eyes off the pie. "Then you must not know me at all. I can quit snow anytime."
Angus almost choked again.
"Whatever you say, sweetheart," he said grabbing a napkin for his chin. He turned around to look at her. "Would you like me to give you and the pie some privacy?" Finally looking him in the eye, Hannah burst out laughing. "I made another one for the band. They'll be dropping in sometime this week an' I wanted to get it ready."
Hannah moved the pie out of reach of the window as another gust of wind blew more snow into the kitchen. She set it down quickly on a towel. "Phil called earlier and said he would be here tomorrow," she said taking the kettle off the stove. Angus grabbed two mugs from the cupboard and set them on the table by the milk. "I think he's flying to visit his family in a few days so he wanted to drop by."
