Would You Care For Pie? By D.M. McGowan

Mrs. Smith was usually alone in management of their little country store, since the rest of the family was involved in construction. She also operated a lunch counter on the premises which attracted many travelers who could not resist her home cooked meals, pies and pastries. It was a wearing, seven day a week task made more difficult in a land of dust and mud.
On occasion, however, she would arrange to have someone take over, allowing her a few hours respite from the constant grind and perhaps a trip to town, thirty five miles away. On one such occasion her husband, Garner Smith, heavy equipment operator, mechanic, rascal and tease, was left in charge of the establishment.
He was sitting at the counter reading a paper and drinking coffee when a lone traveler entered and took a seat a few stools away.
Gar looked up from his paper and asked,” What can I get you?" He rose and moved around behind the counter.
"Coffee and maybe a piece of pie," was the reply.
"What kind o' pie would you like?" Gar asked, looking through the offerings his wife had prepared.
"Well, you got any pumpkin?"
"No. No pumpkin, but we have lemon, raisin and apple."
"Apple, I guess."
A twinkle appeared in Gar's eye, but he quickly hid the smile. He served the slice of apple pie and the coffee, and then returned to his seat down the counter. Sipping his own coffee, he allowed the customer time to become involved in the pie and appreciate just how good it was.
"We had to quite makin' the pumpkin," he observed, taking another sip of coffee.
The customer stopped his fork half way to his mouth, an inquiring look directed at Gar.
Returning his cup to the counter, Gar nodded sagely, no hint of a smile. "Mice kept leavin' tracks in it."