I know my #FallWritingFrenzy entry doesn't match the spooky/playful tone that most entries have, but this is what poured out of my heart this year. Love and prayers to all those that are missing loved ones this fall.
The gravel road’s crackle and crunch irritated Everly as Dad drove between rows of apple trees in Great Grammy’s orchard. It was Everly’s favorite way to kick off fall, but now she wished they hadn’t come.
“Dad, why do we still have to pick the apples?”
“Everly, you know Grammy wouldn’t want these apples wasting away. She planted these trees to last generations.”
Everly moped out of the car. No warm cinnamon-scented hugs from Grammy would greet her ever again. The orchard felt haunted now.
Sore arms and seven bushels later, Dad and Everly entered Grammy’s hollow home and stared silently at the lonely stove. Everly had always helped Grammy make her award-winning caramel sauce to celebrate the harvest.
Dad pulled out a pot and brown sugar.
“Dad, stop it. I can’t. I don’t remember how.”
“Everly, when I was your age, I stood at Grammy’s side and made her sauce every…”
As Dad’s tears fell, Everly wrapped her arms around him then gathered
the whisk and condensed milk.
After stirring and simmering, they dipped apples into the golden memory.
“Dad, let’s make extra sauce next year.”
Everly wrapped Grammy’s handmade quilt around them and savored the cinnamon embrace.