A small notebook with a worn, leather cover caught Sadie’s eye. DIARY was neatly embossed against its cover, is gold ink legible despite its age and wear. She wiped her hands against her thighs, sensing this was something special, a family heirloom that should be treated with care. Gently, she opened it.

Sadie instantly recognized Grandma Hester’s distinctive cursive.

“Oh my God. Grandma’s diary,” she breathed, her eyes going glassy.

January 1, 1974

Hank and I missed Charlie and Louise’s New Year’s Eve party last night—the first time ever, too! Little Melissa had a wicked fever, and I’m sure the boys will soon enough. As they say, when it rains, it pours. Knowing my luck, we’ll all come down with the stomach bug to boot. Now won’t that be a treat—and not the kind of chocolate and peanut butter. Anyways, instead of a New Year’s Eve spent enjoying oysters Rockefeller and champagne, the five of us feasted on minestrone soup and Sunny Delight instead. It was a pissah.

Sadie giggled, recognizing Grandma Hester’s signature Maine spunk. She was also reminded of what Grandma said whenever she dared complain: “No one likes a spleeny, Sadie doll. Get yourself a diary for your grievances.”

January 3, 1974

Jack went back to school today, so once again, it’s just Brent, Melissa, and me at home during the day. Melissa’s fever broke yesterday, and no one else in the house caught it before then. I think that’s a good sign for the year ahead, don’t you?

January 5, 1974

Oh, LORDY!!! Yesterday was right out straight. Tried baking Nantucket cranberry pie for Hank’s birthday, and had only just started when Brent scampered into the kitchen and dropped an entire carton of eggs on the floor. A dozen eggs—SPLAT! GONE! And then poor Melissa slipped and landed on her behind. For a split second I felt like crying, but thankfully, my urge to laugh was much stronger.

Sadie sighed. Why couldn’t she be more like Grandma Hester? Making a special pie from scratch for her husband’s birthday, finding the ability to laugh at the day’s imperfections. If that had happened to her? She probably would have sat right in the broken egg mess and sobbed, shells clinging to her butt.

January 7, 1974

Nantucket cranberry pie was a success! All the guests loved it and Hank teased, “Hester, I think you owe it to this entire town to open a bakery!” He was only joking. I know he was. But it got me to thinking…what if I did? Not to sound boastful, but I am a mighty fine baker. My pies are especially wicked. All our family and friends say so.

Oh my God. Grandma had thought about opening a pie shop?

January 8, 1974