“Yeah right.” Sadie shook her head. “I can’t even seem to pull off plan A.”

Renee opened the gate, walking toward her front door. “No use crying over burned baked goods. It happens to the best of us.” Her voice was calm and take-charge. Renee’s soothing tone reminded Sadie of the way her Grandma Hester used to console her, her serene words healing every disappointment, from a bad test score to being excluded from a classmate’s birthday party.

Plus? The smile tugging at the corners of Renee’s lips was helping Sadie see the humor in the mishap.

“You know what? I’ve got a few pounds of frozen blueberries leftover from last summer. And I’ve been looking for an excuse to bake a pie—or five.” Renee smiled.

“That’s sweet, but please don’t feel like you have to. This isn’t your circus,” Sadie protested weakly.

“I know. I want to.” She gave a reassuring wink. “This is what neighbors do in Cranberry Cove.”

Chapter Four

Unlike Renee’s pantry, Sadie’s wasn’t filled with a mishmash of five kinds of flour, confectioners’ sugar, cornstarch, baking powder, baking soda, chocolate chips, dried fruit, and who knows what else. Instead, hidden behind a Shaker door were rows of neatly labeled Mason jars.

“Wow, are you organized or what?” Renee blinked. “No surprise from the babysitter who used to arrive complete with craft kits.”

“Huh?” Sadie glanced up from the ruined cupcakes she was tossing into the trash, cocking her head with a sparrowlike movement. “Oh those? Ha, honestly, half of that stuff is probably expired, and the worst part is that I’ll never know because I pitched all the bags.” Her wan smile grew wistful. “You remember my crafts?”

Renee nodded. “Tansy still hangs the felt snowman you made with her on the tree every Christmas.”

Sadie seemed to almost flinch, turning to face the window. A strange melancholy seemed to settle into the room. Down the hill, the waves were ebbing. The outgoing tide revealed exposed rocks, splinters of wood, and wild mussel beds. “God, I used to be so organized. But when it comes to dealing with my own kid—it’s a whole different story.”

“Okay, time to make a plan.” Renee clapped her hands, an inexplicable feeling of fullness rising in her chest, in sharp contrast to the hollow emptiness that seemed to cling to Sadie. “I’m going to run back to my house and grab those blueberries. Can you pop a large metal mixing bowl in the freezer?”

Sadie blinked, turning from the window and refocusing. “Bowl. Freezer. Got it.”

“Here’s how the evening is going to go. I’m going to whip up a few pies and muffins to serve at the birthday party tomorrow, and you’re going to put your feet up and relax. And Lincoln can watch a show or two.”

“I don’t know. He’s already had his thirty minutes of screen time,” Sadie began to protest.

“Sadie, let me be real. Desperate times call for desperate measures. I once set Tansy in front of Barney for an entire weekend when I had the flu,” Renee said. “I promise you it won’t rot his brain.”