Pamela led them inside. Serena heard George Strait crooning on the stereo, and she grinned at Maggie, who rolled her eyes. The Labrador bounded up to greet them, concluding that they must be friends because they’d been allowed inside the house. Serena got down on her knees and mussed his fur.

“I’ve got some fresh pie,” Pamela said. “Would you like some?”

Serena saw Maggie smirk. She knew all about Serena’s diet.

“It sounds wonderful, but I better resist,” Serena said.

“I’ll take a big piece,” Maggie said. “With ice cream, if you have it.”

Pamela looked pleased. “I’ll be back. Mary Ann has a room at the rear of the house, so I’ll bring her out to meet you.”

She left them alone.

“Warm apple pie,” Maggie said. “Yum.”

“Bitch,” Serena muttered.

They took seats on the tweed cushions of the sofa. Pamela returned with a large slice of pie, adorned with two scoops of vanilla ice cream, and a glass of milk. Cinnamon wafted from the plate. She put it on the oval coffee table in front of Maggie, who thanked her profusely. She picked up the plate, shoved a large forkful into her mouth, and chewed loudly.

“Wow, is this good,” she said with her mouth full.

“If you choke, I am not giving you the Heimlich,” Serena said.

Pamela came back, pushing a wheelchair in front of her. The woman in the chair had snow white hair that framed her head like a halo. Her sun-browned skin was wizened and flecked with black spots, and sunglasses shielded her eyes. She had a crocheted blanket spread over her lap, and below it, there was nothing at all. Her legs had been amputated below the knees.

“Mary Ann, these ladies are here to see you,” Pamela said.

“To see me? Well, isn’t that lovely.” Her voice crackled like Rice Krispies, but her demeanor was warm and sunny. Her dry lips curled into a smile. “I smell pie. Pamela uses my recipe. Four-time blue-ribbon winner at the North Dakota State Fair. Darling, I don’t suppose I could have a small piece?”

“Mary Ann,” Pamela chided her gently. “You know better.”

The old woman sighed. She put a finger to the side of her nose. “I can still tell when a pie is done just by the smell,” she said.

Pamela turned off the music and sat down in the armchair next to her mother-in-law, who slid her hands under the blanket to warm them. Serena and Maggie introduced themselves again.

“Minnesota?” Mary Ann said. “My husband and I had a favorite fishing resort near Brainerd. It’s a beautiful area. All those lakes and trees. Out here, it’s just miles and miles of corn.”

“Your daughter-in-law says you’ve lived in this house since the 1970s,” Serena said.

“Oh, yes, Henry and I bought a small parcel of land near Minot shortly after we got married, with some money we got from his grandfather. Henry did very well with it. He had a degree, you know. He was very scientific.”