““With a resigned sigh, Cal leaned across the table and took a bite. And suddenly there she was. His mom, her fingers sticky with caramel, her apron dusty with flour, her smile for him and him alone. He chewed the pie, but didn’t taste the sweetness. He tasted home. He tasted safety and warmth and love. He tasted every time his parents had held him, or hugged him, or read him a story and tucked him in. Cal’s””
