Pushing Daisies s01e04 Episode Script
Pigeon
Previously on Pushing Daisies: - You only got a minute.
- I know.
What if you didn't have to be dead? You touch murder victims, ask who killed them.
Touch them again, they go back to being dead.
- Collect the reward? Nobody can know.
I can't hug you? - You can't touch me.
So a kiss is out of the question? Who's the funny girl stuck to Ned? Childhood sweetheart.
He digs her in a way he doesn't dig you.
Thank you for bringing me back.
People aren't used to this.
Issues of morality.
How come she's not dead? You can't see your aunts.
It'd be a disaster.
The pie smells delicious.
- We recently lost our niece.
- Your niece? Charlotte Charles is dead? Presently? At this very moment in the town of North Thrush young Ned was lonely.
Unable to make friends at the Longborough School for Boys he often found himself playing alone with nothing but memories of happier times to keep his company.
What young Ned did not realize was that beyond the meadow and under the same orange sky someone he loved was remembering him.
His dog, Digby.
In fact, three days prior, Digby had made a decision.
Wearied by his own loneliness back in Couer d'Couers and sensing his master's sorrow, Digby set out on a mission.
Uncertain as to his exact destination he ventured into the great unknown guided only by the compass of his heart.
Despite numerous distractions Digby was determined to find young Ned the boy who had given him a second chance at life and who was his best friend.
Upon doing so, Digby proved that love can overcome any obstacle.
The reunion was bittersweet, however as they instantly remembered the restrictions of their friendship.
They could not touch or Digby would die.
Still, it was enough.
That day, Digby vowed he would never again allow himself to be separated from his master.
The Pie-Maker did not wish to be separated from Chuck who in turn did not wish to be separated from her aunts Lily and Vivian who continued to be challenged by social phobias.
Unbeknownst to the Pie-Maker Chuck secretly baked homeopathic mood enhancers into pies for her aunts hoping that a slice a day would herbally lift their spirits.
Oh, you're up early.
Um Oh, I couldn't sleep.
- Lumpy mattress? - Lumpy dreams.
Which are more vivid than before I died.
Isn't that interesting? Just one of those little things.
What are those? Oh, I, uh got bit.
Those are bee stings.
How'd you get stung by so many bees? What happened to the bees that stung you? That's suicide.
Not in this case, they sort of stung me died, then they flew away again.
And some other bees died.
Do you think their honey tastes different because they died? Wouldn't that be interesting? Just one of those little things? I wanna show you something.
- Bees.
- Your bees.
My bees, you mean? No, not those bees.
New bees.
Technically, still your bees just not the bees that you knew.
- But I'm sure they're equally nice.
- Mm.
You realize beekeeping within city limits is completely illegal.
Yes.
And I'm almost sure I don't care.
Well, I could not care enough for the both of us.
We can plant wildflowers on rooftops and be unorthodox urban honey pioneers.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
If I could hug you right now, I know that I can't, but Just know that I want to.
I do.
As Chuck considered her future as an unorthodox urban honey pioneer Olive Snook considered how the man she loved seemed to be in love with someone else.
Her affection for the Pie-Maker had not wavered despite the romantic threat of a dead girl who wasn't dead.
I didn't know you could do that.
On the contrary Olive's resolve had only increased since the realization that Chuck indeed was supposed to be dead.
- Good morning.
Olive assumed Chuck had faked her own death.
She would keep the secret for now as Chuck kept her secret from the Pie-Maker.
There's a pie in my oven.
Oh, uh, that's mine.
I was practicing.
It smells like cheese.
Is that quiche? I baked monastery gouda into the crust.
Tart apple filling.
I thought I'd try it.
You know what would be delicious? Pear with Gruyère crust.
Bet that'd be real good.
Yeah, it would.
Unbeknownst to Chuck, Olive understood the deliciousness of pear and Gruyère.
- Thank you.
- Because she secretly delivered that first mood-enhancing pie to Aunts Lily and Vivian as she would deliver this one.
But not before a collision occurred.
Oh.
I think she's dead.
- Can you feel a heartbeat? - I don't do heartbeats.
They feel like this.
Come here.
Thump-thump.
Thump-thump.
Is that a dead bird? Throw that away.
It's swimming with disease and you serve food.
Don't be such a drama queen.
It doesn't look diseased.
It's dead and it's a bird.
It's diseased.
Oh! It's a miracle bird.
It's swimming in miracles, not disease.
- Maybe I should hold it.
- Really? Do you have to? She's obviously been through a lot.
She seems happy to be here.
Having brought a dead thing back to life the Pie-Maker fretted over who or what would pay for that life with its own.
She lost her wing.
- Doesn't seem to be in any pain.
She's not.
Probably not.
What do I know? I'm not a bird.
- Pigeon.
- Pigeon.
Uh, pigeon-toed as a child but orthopedic shoes solved that.
- Yeah.
What is the rate of exchange on a bird? Because if it's equal to or greater than mine, I need to get back to my car.
I'm more concerned for that squirrel.
Oh.
Don't you worry, I know just what to do with you.
I recently made the acquaintance of bird lovers, I'll consult them.
Olive was referring to Aunts Lily and Vivian.
Really? I used to know a pair of bird lovers.
Chuck also referred to Aunts Lily and Vivian.
Used to? Did they die? Death was involved.
How unfortunate.
They were both so busy referring and inferring they failed to notice that 60 seconds had passed.
The Pie-Maker could not afford such a luxury.
It's raining dead birds.
What's going on up there? What was going on up there was this: An out-of-control crop-duster crashed headfirst into the Broadview luxury apartment complex killing the pilot instantly.
His body was catapulted out of the cockpit and into the living room of one Conrad Fitch.
Does this? Does this qualify as ambulance chasing? I'm asking without judgment.
If you're asking without judgment, then yes, it does.
- Look for body bags.
- That's not our thing.
Your thing is waking dead people.
My thing is finding dead people for you to wake up.
Ooh.
Found one.
Why can't we just be here as concerned citizens? Because big daddy needs some new yarn: Just because there's a body doesn't mean you get paid.
Just because there's vodka doesn't mean I have to drink it.
- Wait.
Yes, it does.
- He's not wrong.
Plane crashes, could mean a civil suit, negligence, pain and suffering negligent pain and - Chuck fostered her love of the law by volunteering as a stay-at-home juror for a paraplegic judge.
"We, the jury, find the defendant guilty.
" Oh, I'm sorry.
Oops! Unable to catch Chuck when she fell the Pie-Maker was forced to step aside allowing another man to catch her.
Thank you.
Forgive the mess.
The maid comes tomorrow.
I guess I should cancel that.
- Do you live here? - Till very recently.
Can you put her down, please? At least your collection of nautical plates survived.
- Those were Franklin Mint.
Oh.
- Sorry.
- No, it's okay.
I'll be okay.
I was feeling like I needed to simplify my life anyway.
Chuck's heart went out to the man with the plane in his living room despite the Pie-Maker wanting her heart for himself.
Suddenly, ambulance-chasing didn't seem like a bad idea.
- Ahem.
Ambulance is leaving.
- Go ahead.
I'm gonna stay.
- See if there's anything I can do.
- He's fine.
His day can only improve.
Dead pilot probably has lots of last wishes.
Like maybe he wished he'd have turned left.
- You don't need me.
- She's got a point.
- But - Don't argue with the woman.
We got a dead guy to talk to.
The facts were these: One Bradan Caden, an agricultural aviator was 53 years, 21 weeks, five days, six hours and 19 minutes old when his crop-duster collided with the Broadview luxury apartment complex.
It was 17 minutes after the collision when Mr.
Caden's insurance agent had already rejected the claim on his life policy before the claim was even made.
You see the way he just swept in there? - So? - I don't sweep.
I'm not a sweeper.
- It's a little showy.
- It's a lot showy.
What's a rooftop full of bees compared to someone who can catch her? I can't.
Can't suck on her toes neither.
Some women like that.
Bradan Caden's wife, Becky, believed her husband was not suicidal and was, in fact, a happy man.
He was a happy man.
These insurance people making assumptions about a person's disposition.
- One should never assume.
An insurance agent can't speak to the deceased's state of mind.
They didn't know the deceased.
You did.
Pardon me, I couldn't help but overhear.
I believe I could be helpful.
May I have a word with you? Why are you bothering this woman? You and that white boy got some kind of shifty going on? I don't know what, but you're shifty.
I'm here as a concerned citizen.
You making a dime, concerned citizen? - Maybe one or two to rub together.
- Well, then Flies land on me, they pay rent.
Ahem.
Excuse me, I'm just gonna You're the fellow that jumped on my plane? No.
A fellow jumped on your plane? - I was hijacked.
- Is that why your plane crashed? Oh, yes, sirree.
Mr.
Caden.
I was dusting soy beans, or getting ready to when dippy in a prison jumpsuit climbed aboard.
Dippy was onboard when you crashed? You're the only dead dippy Body they found.
Then dippy's not dead.
Lucky him.
- What in the hell? - The plane was hijacked.
How'd you come by that? DNA-ish.
Olive Snook came to Couer d'Couers on a wing and a prayer.
With a gilded cage housing the mono-winged bird in one hand and a pie box in the other, she set out to expose Charlotte Charles also known as Chuck, as a faker of deaths.
Mm-hm.
It's a carrier pigeon.
Diseases or messages? - Both.
- A bird with gossip, how exciting.
Do you open other people's mail? Who's the people, and how hard is it to open? I don't know where that came from.
- What's gotten into you? - What's gotten into you? What had gotten into both of them was their niece's homeopathic pie.
As with any mood stabilizer, moods were a bit inconsistent at the start.
Do you think you can fix her? She'll only go out there and get hurt again.
Coyotes will have their way with her.
But she was meant to fly.
She needs to fulfill her destiny and deliver that message.
A bird that stalks down his narrow cage can seldom see through his bars of rage.
It wouldn't hurt to try.
That's the spirit.
And once we fix Pidge, we can celebrate by taking a trip to the Pie Hole.
It's a nifty spot with lots of interesting folks.
You never know who you might run into.
With that, Olive Snook set her plan in motion.
Why would we go out for pie when you just brought us one? I'll think of a reason.
While Olive Snook considered how to get Lily and Vivian out of their rut the Pie-Maker was considering worst-case scenarios.
Not only for a rogue hijacker who he had been hired to find by Becky Caden but for Chuck and the man who caught her in a way the Pie-Maker never could.
They're not here.
This is bad.
Well, maybe they went for a stroll.
That would not make it better.
What's worse? The two of them locked in a hijacker's car or sipping mimosas in a hotel room? I'm not a fan of either scenario.
What's that smell? - I thought it might be your cologne.
- Who wears cologne? I wear cologne.
Look.
They had coffee.
Oh There's something bad in there.
- Aah! - Mm-mm.
- Is that the hijacker? - What kind of fool hijacker hides himself in the damn coffee table? Damn.
So cramped, I feel like I'm stuffed in a trunk.
- You are stuffed in a trunk.
- Don't contradict an old man.
Did you hijack that plane? What plane? Oh, hell's fire, that thing flew into my apartment.
This is your apartment? What did I just say? There I was, enjoying my daily prunes and the psyllium powder and hoping for the best.
Suddenly I see that thing flying at me.
If this is your apartment, then who is Conrad? What is this, the idiot brigade? Hello.
Oh.
Do you like pie? Lt'd be criminal not to like pie.
Everything I am everything I was everything that represented me as a human being was in there.
I have to start over.
I lost everything once.
And you know Did a plane fly into your living room? - No.
- Or was it arson? No, it was something else, but I felt a queer thrill of opportunity.
To get new stuff? To let go of everything I didn't like and to hold on to everything about me that I did.
Well, I've just met you, but I can't imagine anything about you that isn't something to like.
Chuck's first thought was to quickly pull her hand away.
Her second thought was how nice it felt to have someone hold her hand.
Oh, I'm sorry.
Was that your boyfriend back there? The one who took a step back to let you fall? He didn't let me fall.
It was actually a very affectionate gesture.
In context.
If it was only the Pie-Maker's hand.
Can I ask you a small favor? Would you hold my hand just for a moment? But don't say anything, and I'm gonna close my eyes.
All right.
In that moment, Chuck was holding the Pie-Maker's hand.
- Lf only by proxy.
Ahem.
It was the proxy that concerned the Pie-Maker.
I gotta pee.
- How did it go? - Where did he go? Conrad? He was going to the bathroom.
He's not Conrad, he's the hijacker.
He's going to the bathroom in my kitchen.
Boy, miss one trip to the morgue.
Is this the hand you were holding? Well, he's a big fibber, isn't he? A big fibber whose hand you were holding.
What's that about? I was If you must know I was pretending I was holding your hand.
Is that supposed to make me feel better? Well, yeah.
On one hand it does.
On the other hand, the hand you were holding, it doesn't.
- Ned, he's an escaped convict.
- You didn't know that.
Not only is he an escaped convict, he's a hijacker who's prevented thousands of crops from being airily fertilized.
And he stuffed a surly old dead guy in a trunk.
I'm not saying he isn't guilty, and not saying I am.
I'm just saying that it's not about him.
No, it's about our client, Becky Caden.
The woman your man widowed when he decided to crop dust someone's living room.
Did you catch him? That one-armed bitch was speedy.
But I checked with my people at the prison.
You got people? That's so neat.
- Did you find out anything good? - Yes.
And we're gonna need shovels.
Emerson Cod had learned three things.
First, the man they knew as Conrad Fitch was actually one Lemuel Weinger a low-level employee of a company called Ornin Energy.
Second, Ornin was an energy-based corporation known for several types of trading: Plastics, steel and insider.
The latter cost Lemuel his right hand.
It also cost him his freedom.
Third, during his incarceration, Lemuel became known as Lefty Lem.
A name given to him by his cellmate, Jackson Lucas an infamous diamond thief whose final escapade resulted in a buried treasure that was never recovered.
Even after he died.
He ended up in a prison graveyard with his secret.
Oh, so Lefty Lem was a white-collar criminal.
That makes much more sense.
Oh, thank you.
Gonna get paid once by the widow when we prove her husband's death wasn't suicide.
Dead bodies always lead to paydays.
- Yeah, yeah.
Vodka in the freezer.
- Gonna get paid twice by the feds when they give us the reward for kicking Lefty back to the clink.
Looking forward to that.
And we'll get paid thrice by finding Jackson's buried booty.
Heh-heh.
Hey.
Hey.
Come to papa.
You might wanna avert your eyes.
There's a chance he'll be on the dewy side.
Damn.
I hate dewy.
Are you mad at me? Why would I be mad? For holding someone's hand that wasn't yours.
Seriously, in a prison graveyard.
That's where you're gonna have this conversation? You should, uh, breathe through your mouths.
- I would have preferred more eyeball.
- Just touch the damn thing.
- No, wait.
- For what? A little dignity.
Thanks.
I can't see anything.
Am I blind? Good news is you're not blind.
Bad news is you're dead.
Makes blind seem like a walk in the park, doesn't it? - Where'd you bury your loot, Jack? - Ha! - Why should I tell you? - Good karma.
It's like currency in the afterlife.
The old windmill on the VonRoenn farm, at the bottom of the stairs.
- How much that worth? - Plenty.
Ask him about Lefty.
Did you tell him where you buried it? Of course I did.
I owed him that much.
What did you owe him for? Keeping the fire alive.
All right, we got a windmill to find.
Chuck's fire may not be alive as far as her aunts Lillian and Vivian were concerned.
But Olive was doing her best to reignite it.
Brackets.
Brackets.
- Ribbon.
- Ribbon.
- Bejeweler.
- Bejeweler.
Can I do one? Maybe the last one.
If you like, we could bejewel Pidge's birdhouse when we're done.
Pidge's house is only temporary.
No sense in bejeweling an empty home, is there, Pidge? There's something so sad about an empty birdhouse.
When one of our birds dies we taxiderm it, put it right back on its perch.
Vivian does wonders with sand and thread.
And little marble eyes.
It's like our birds never left at all.
You can't put everything back on its perch.
Must've been all kinds of horrible for you when Charlotte left.
She didn't leave.
She died.
And no amount of sand or thread or little marble eyes will ever bring her back.
But Olive didn't need sand or thread or little marble eyes to bring Chuck back.
She needed a confluence of events.
Wing.
And she was about to get one.
Wing.
Can I do the last bejewel? I already did it.
Oh What do you think, Pidge? And while Olive, the aunts and Pidge looked forward to the next step in their journey another journey had reached a dead end.
Is she dead? Lefty Lem has officially taken the lead.
- You think fake Conrad killed her? - Occam's razor.
All things equal, the simplest solution tends to be the best.
I believed that until you brought me back.
Kind of screws the theory.
Maybe your finger needs a new battery.
Let me try.
Ow.
- He did it.
- He did it.
I must have dozed off again.
Uh, can I help you? We're looking for a windmill.
A VanRoenn variety windmill.
Oh, that's funny.
A young man was just in here asking about the VanRoenn mill.
Didn't happen to have one arm, did he? - As a matter of fact, he did.
- Occam's.
- Bless you.
- Thank you.
The windmill.
What happened to it? Raised, wrecked, rebuilt, removed? Retired.
No farm, no use.
Got shipped off to NARM some 20 years ago.
Why send it to 'Nam? Did the Vietnamese need windmills? NARM.
National Area of Retired Mills.
VanRoenn Mill has been preserved for an historical landmark.
I have a map here.
Ha-ha-ha.
Now, that's narcoleptic.
Necrophiliac's the other one.
Yeah.
Armed with a new plan the Pie-Maker and associates left the narcoleptic curator to her dreams.
Meanwhile, back in Couer d'Couers a tiny friend was planning her own escape.
Olive's disdain for Chuck was split in two.
One for stealing the Pie-Maker's heart the other for breaking the aunts '.
You know you wanna read Pidge's message.
Lily would be so displeased.
There was an incident.
I read something that I shouldn't have, and then life went horribly awry.
Lily never forgave me.
She said she did but she didn't.
Well Now, I'm more interested in that story.
- Let's put Pidge back into her house.
- Pidge has left the building.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry her empty birdhouse makes you sad.
Maybe you could fill it with all your Charlotte sadness and hang it in a special place in your soul.
That's an awfully sad birdhouse to have hanging in one's soul.
Hang it someplace you don't have to see it.
Won't always be sad.
It'll be the happiest little birdhouse when you're ready.
Make a little birdhouse in your soul.
Don't encourage her.
I think she looks divine.
- Son of a bitch.
- Wait.
You forgot your message.
Pidge.
Pidge, wait.
You forgot your message.
As the aunts watched Olive scream for help Pidge.
Help me.
they considered their own birdcage and wondered if they were ready to leave it behind.
A few miles away looking out across the fields and hills a beautiful woman named Elsita waited for the man she loved to make her heart complete.
Little did she know Lefty Lem was already on his way.
What the hell do you want? I'm from the Papen County Historical Society.
We'd like to photograph these premises for our 87th annual Mills of the Wind Papen County collector's calendar.
Where's your camera? It's in the car.
You're lying.
But I'm bored.
I'm your only friend I'm not your only friend But I'm a little glowing friend But really I'm not actually your friend But I am Blue canary in the outlet By the light switch Who watches over you - Make a little birdhouse in your soul - Not to put too fine a point on it Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet - Make a little birdhouse in your soul - Make a little birdhouse in your soul Never mind the singing, keep your eye on that bird.
You know our problem? If you're referring to the touching, I see it as more of an obstacle.
- It's big.
- Not compared to our other problems.
- We've got other problems? - I'm gonna kill myself.
There's so much I'm learning about you.
Such as? - You're a romantic.
- When the mood strikes.
- You're jealous.
- Everyone's a little jealous.
If you're not a little jealous, you're probably - Can we not talk about this? - The answer to your query is yes.
No, actually, I wanna talk about this.
I could let it go.
It will come back.
Which I wouldn't call annoying.
But there's no great way of saying half-annoying, which it is.
See? Isn't this neat? Here we were thinking we had one big problem when we have hundreds of little problems that we gotta sort out which means we're like everybody else in the world.
Except I still can't catch you.
Yeah, we're taking two cars next time.
That's a big ax.
I'm not gonna hurt you, I promise.
This is, uh, just a precautionary measure.
Wouldn't it be easier if you put the ax down then tied the rope? It's funny, you really are a one-armed bandit.
Your name's not McClappin, is it? - As in the sound of one hand - No.
Because names are destiny.
If you think Dwayne Cloggin ain't gonna be a plumber then you just think again.
Oh, no, you didn't use bows to tie me up, did you? You take a hostage like you tie sneakers.
- What is your problem? - Well.
I was born into the life of windmillery Are you gonna listen or knock? I'm listening.
You were born into the life of windmillery.
Always waiting on wind to show up so you can start work and I'm no good at waiting.
I'm tired of it.
You sure it was the wind that you were a-waiting for? Did you just say "a-waiting"? If you're mimicking me, I'll be out of these faster than a snake through weeds.
- I wasn't thinking and I apologize.
It's just I have a lot on my mind and I'm in a bit of a rush.
Oh, where are you rushing to? I don't really know yet.
Well, maybe you better figure that out.
Go back to your knocking.
Ahem.
Come on, Pidge.
You can do it.
Not even a breeze to help poor Pidge.
Which is kind of ironic, given the surroundings.
Pidge! Come on! The pigeon, growing fatigued with each flap of her taxidermy wing knew something the others did not.
Her journey was almost complete.
What was that? It's my bird.
Oh - That's my bird.
- What are you on about? - It's my bird.
- I'll prove it.
I wrote the note.
Where's the note? Hello.
Can I get my bird back, please? - Your bird? - Your bird? Yes, my bird.
She's a carrier pigeon.
She has a message and she has to carry it.
It's what she does.
That's my message.
- Elsa? - I'm Elsita.
Jackson? I'm Lem.
Elsa was my mama.
Jackson was my prison bunkmate.
Is bunkmates a euphemism for? Not in this case, ma'am.
There was bitter chill in the air the night Jackson Lucas found refuge in the VanRoenn windmill.
Already five days on the lam, he knew the police were closing in.
To preserve his dreams of one day owning an art gallery in Mexico Jackson decided to bury his stolen treasure in the staircase of the seemingly abandoned property.
His heart stopped, however, when he saw an angelic creature descending the stairs.
Her name was Elsa and this was her windmill.
My name is Elsa.
This is my windmill.
It was love at first sight.
Knowing he had very little time left, he kissed her.
It was a perfect moment.
The next moment was not.
I'll write you.
Elsa kept true to her word.
For the next 20 years, she and Jackson continued their love affair by correspondence.
Letters sent to and fro with the help of her virtually untraceable carrier pigeon.
Until the day Jackson knew he would no longer be able to keep his promise.
Someone else would have to do it for him.
After Jackson died, I started to plan my escape.
It took me two years.
And all that time, I kept writing to Elsa.
At first, out of loyalty to the man who taught me the ropes in prison.
But after a while I started to develop A condition? For Elsa.
Least I thought it was Elsa.
Mama made me swear on her deathbed that I'd never stop writing to Jackson.
Said it would break his heart to learn she died.
But each letter was more beautiful than the last.
And I found myself looking forward to them.
Your letters were beautiful too.
What's the big whoop? Pidge brought them together.
How did she lose her wing? Took her with me on the plane when I busted out of prison.
She flew out the window after takeoff and went right through the propeller.
Oh Pidge crashed the plane.
Oh, Pidge.
- What happened to the diamonds? Diamonds? Holy crap.
Holy crap.
Huh.
Now, now.
Let's not panic.
I'm sure it's just the mailman.
Or a windmill-to-windmill salesman.
Let me handle it.
As Olive peeped through the peephole, it occurred to her that while the carrier pigeon was safe inside the windmill the same could not be said for the sitting duck currently waiting on the doorstep.
This was the moment Olive Snook had been waiting for.
She need only open the door to expose Chuck's deceit to the aunts and the Pie-Maker could be hers.
It was everything Olive wanted.
And yet She knew that the aunts would be traumatized by the discovery that the late Charlotte Charles was late no more.
In that moment, Olive felt the angry fire in her heart extinguished by a light breeze.
She had grown fond of Lily and Vivian and could not bring herself to hurt them.
Afternoon, gang.
- Olive? - What are you doing here? Pie delivery.
Tart apple, I believe.
With those two words, Chuck knew.
Her aunts were inside.
- Olive - If you know what's good for you and I think you do, give me two minutes.
- What for? - Okay.
Goody then.
Who was it? Wrong mill.
Must happen a lot around here, huh? Anyway, I feel awful that we've taken up so much of your day.
We should be going.
Uh, do you mind if we use the back door? I just wanted to peek at your garden on the way out.
Thanks.
Bye.
- Ned? - Hmm? Remember I told you all the things I'd learned about you? Jealous, romantic, jealous.
Felt I had to say it twice.
Well, now might be a good time to write all the things you learned about me.
- Why? - Well, that way, if stuff happens just remember the list.
- Time's up.
Well, now, wasn't that a nice outing? I could use a drink.
Young people depress Lily because she's afraid of dying.
As Lily wondered whether she was afraid of dying or simply missed feeling alive she allowed herself one deep breath of fresh country air.
I don't think we've been out since Charlotte? No need to yell her name.
I think heaven's closer than we think.
I agree.
Hmm.
Hand up.
Lemuel, I'll write you.
The Pie-Maker and the girl he called Chuck marveled at love's power to conquer all obstacles.
Distance and time.
Hardship and pain.
A lack of reciprocation.
Even death.
Your husband was a great pilot.
He didn't kill himself, a pigeon did.
By accident.
With Pidge's help, the long-distance love affair of Lefty and Elsita continued to soar.
And the Pie-Maker realized that while some obstacles may never disappear Care to dance? Hmm.
Yes, please.
- You can always find a way to work around them.
You caught me.
- I know.
What if you didn't have to be dead? You touch murder victims, ask who killed them.
Touch them again, they go back to being dead.
- Collect the reward? Nobody can know.
I can't hug you? - You can't touch me.
So a kiss is out of the question? Who's the funny girl stuck to Ned? Childhood sweetheart.
He digs her in a way he doesn't dig you.
Thank you for bringing me back.
People aren't used to this.
Issues of morality.
How come she's not dead? You can't see your aunts.
It'd be a disaster.
The pie smells delicious.
- We recently lost our niece.
- Your niece? Charlotte Charles is dead? Presently? At this very moment in the town of North Thrush young Ned was lonely.
Unable to make friends at the Longborough School for Boys he often found himself playing alone with nothing but memories of happier times to keep his company.
What young Ned did not realize was that beyond the meadow and under the same orange sky someone he loved was remembering him.
His dog, Digby.
In fact, three days prior, Digby had made a decision.
Wearied by his own loneliness back in Couer d'Couers and sensing his master's sorrow, Digby set out on a mission.
Uncertain as to his exact destination he ventured into the great unknown guided only by the compass of his heart.
Despite numerous distractions Digby was determined to find young Ned the boy who had given him a second chance at life and who was his best friend.
Upon doing so, Digby proved that love can overcome any obstacle.
The reunion was bittersweet, however as they instantly remembered the restrictions of their friendship.
They could not touch or Digby would die.
Still, it was enough.
That day, Digby vowed he would never again allow himself to be separated from his master.
The Pie-Maker did not wish to be separated from Chuck who in turn did not wish to be separated from her aunts Lily and Vivian who continued to be challenged by social phobias.
Unbeknownst to the Pie-Maker Chuck secretly baked homeopathic mood enhancers into pies for her aunts hoping that a slice a day would herbally lift their spirits.
Oh, you're up early.
Um Oh, I couldn't sleep.
- Lumpy mattress? - Lumpy dreams.
Which are more vivid than before I died.
Isn't that interesting? Just one of those little things.
What are those? Oh, I, uh got bit.
Those are bee stings.
How'd you get stung by so many bees? What happened to the bees that stung you? That's suicide.
Not in this case, they sort of stung me died, then they flew away again.
And some other bees died.
Do you think their honey tastes different because they died? Wouldn't that be interesting? Just one of those little things? I wanna show you something.
- Bees.
- Your bees.
My bees, you mean? No, not those bees.
New bees.
Technically, still your bees just not the bees that you knew.
- But I'm sure they're equally nice.
- Mm.
You realize beekeeping within city limits is completely illegal.
Yes.
And I'm almost sure I don't care.
Well, I could not care enough for the both of us.
We can plant wildflowers on rooftops and be unorthodox urban honey pioneers.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
If I could hug you right now, I know that I can't, but Just know that I want to.
I do.
As Chuck considered her future as an unorthodox urban honey pioneer Olive Snook considered how the man she loved seemed to be in love with someone else.
Her affection for the Pie-Maker had not wavered despite the romantic threat of a dead girl who wasn't dead.
I didn't know you could do that.
On the contrary Olive's resolve had only increased since the realization that Chuck indeed was supposed to be dead.
- Good morning.
Olive assumed Chuck had faked her own death.
She would keep the secret for now as Chuck kept her secret from the Pie-Maker.
There's a pie in my oven.
Oh, uh, that's mine.
I was practicing.
It smells like cheese.
Is that quiche? I baked monastery gouda into the crust.
Tart apple filling.
I thought I'd try it.
You know what would be delicious? Pear with Gruyère crust.
Bet that'd be real good.
Yeah, it would.
Unbeknownst to Chuck, Olive understood the deliciousness of pear and Gruyère.
- Thank you.
- Because she secretly delivered that first mood-enhancing pie to Aunts Lily and Vivian as she would deliver this one.
But not before a collision occurred.
Oh.
I think she's dead.
- Can you feel a heartbeat? - I don't do heartbeats.
They feel like this.
Come here.
Thump-thump.
Thump-thump.
Is that a dead bird? Throw that away.
It's swimming with disease and you serve food.
Don't be such a drama queen.
It doesn't look diseased.
It's dead and it's a bird.
It's diseased.
Oh! It's a miracle bird.
It's swimming in miracles, not disease.
- Maybe I should hold it.
- Really? Do you have to? She's obviously been through a lot.
She seems happy to be here.
Having brought a dead thing back to life the Pie-Maker fretted over who or what would pay for that life with its own.
She lost her wing.
- Doesn't seem to be in any pain.
She's not.
Probably not.
What do I know? I'm not a bird.
- Pigeon.
- Pigeon.
Uh, pigeon-toed as a child but orthopedic shoes solved that.
- Yeah.
What is the rate of exchange on a bird? Because if it's equal to or greater than mine, I need to get back to my car.
I'm more concerned for that squirrel.
Oh.
Don't you worry, I know just what to do with you.
I recently made the acquaintance of bird lovers, I'll consult them.
Olive was referring to Aunts Lily and Vivian.
Really? I used to know a pair of bird lovers.
Chuck also referred to Aunts Lily and Vivian.
Used to? Did they die? Death was involved.
How unfortunate.
They were both so busy referring and inferring they failed to notice that 60 seconds had passed.
The Pie-Maker could not afford such a luxury.
It's raining dead birds.
What's going on up there? What was going on up there was this: An out-of-control crop-duster crashed headfirst into the Broadview luxury apartment complex killing the pilot instantly.
His body was catapulted out of the cockpit and into the living room of one Conrad Fitch.
Does this? Does this qualify as ambulance chasing? I'm asking without judgment.
If you're asking without judgment, then yes, it does.
- Look for body bags.
- That's not our thing.
Your thing is waking dead people.
My thing is finding dead people for you to wake up.
Ooh.
Found one.
Why can't we just be here as concerned citizens? Because big daddy needs some new yarn: Just because there's a body doesn't mean you get paid.
Just because there's vodka doesn't mean I have to drink it.
- Wait.
Yes, it does.
- He's not wrong.
Plane crashes, could mean a civil suit, negligence, pain and suffering negligent pain and - Chuck fostered her love of the law by volunteering as a stay-at-home juror for a paraplegic judge.
"We, the jury, find the defendant guilty.
" Oh, I'm sorry.
Oops! Unable to catch Chuck when she fell the Pie-Maker was forced to step aside allowing another man to catch her.
Thank you.
Forgive the mess.
The maid comes tomorrow.
I guess I should cancel that.
- Do you live here? - Till very recently.
Can you put her down, please? At least your collection of nautical plates survived.
- Those were Franklin Mint.
Oh.
- Sorry.
- No, it's okay.
I'll be okay.
I was feeling like I needed to simplify my life anyway.
Chuck's heart went out to the man with the plane in his living room despite the Pie-Maker wanting her heart for himself.
Suddenly, ambulance-chasing didn't seem like a bad idea.
- Ahem.
Ambulance is leaving.
- Go ahead.
I'm gonna stay.
- See if there's anything I can do.
- He's fine.
His day can only improve.
Dead pilot probably has lots of last wishes.
Like maybe he wished he'd have turned left.
- You don't need me.
- She's got a point.
- But - Don't argue with the woman.
We got a dead guy to talk to.
The facts were these: One Bradan Caden, an agricultural aviator was 53 years, 21 weeks, five days, six hours and 19 minutes old when his crop-duster collided with the Broadview luxury apartment complex.
It was 17 minutes after the collision when Mr.
Caden's insurance agent had already rejected the claim on his life policy before the claim was even made.
You see the way he just swept in there? - So? - I don't sweep.
I'm not a sweeper.
- It's a little showy.
- It's a lot showy.
What's a rooftop full of bees compared to someone who can catch her? I can't.
Can't suck on her toes neither.
Some women like that.
Bradan Caden's wife, Becky, believed her husband was not suicidal and was, in fact, a happy man.
He was a happy man.
These insurance people making assumptions about a person's disposition.
- One should never assume.
An insurance agent can't speak to the deceased's state of mind.
They didn't know the deceased.
You did.
Pardon me, I couldn't help but overhear.
I believe I could be helpful.
May I have a word with you? Why are you bothering this woman? You and that white boy got some kind of shifty going on? I don't know what, but you're shifty.
I'm here as a concerned citizen.
You making a dime, concerned citizen? - Maybe one or two to rub together.
- Well, then Flies land on me, they pay rent.
Ahem.
Excuse me, I'm just gonna You're the fellow that jumped on my plane? No.
A fellow jumped on your plane? - I was hijacked.
- Is that why your plane crashed? Oh, yes, sirree.
Mr.
Caden.
I was dusting soy beans, or getting ready to when dippy in a prison jumpsuit climbed aboard.
Dippy was onboard when you crashed? You're the only dead dippy Body they found.
Then dippy's not dead.
Lucky him.
- What in the hell? - The plane was hijacked.
How'd you come by that? DNA-ish.
Olive Snook came to Couer d'Couers on a wing and a prayer.
With a gilded cage housing the mono-winged bird in one hand and a pie box in the other, she set out to expose Charlotte Charles also known as Chuck, as a faker of deaths.
Mm-hm.
It's a carrier pigeon.
Diseases or messages? - Both.
- A bird with gossip, how exciting.
Do you open other people's mail? Who's the people, and how hard is it to open? I don't know where that came from.
- What's gotten into you? - What's gotten into you? What had gotten into both of them was their niece's homeopathic pie.
As with any mood stabilizer, moods were a bit inconsistent at the start.
Do you think you can fix her? She'll only go out there and get hurt again.
Coyotes will have their way with her.
But she was meant to fly.
She needs to fulfill her destiny and deliver that message.
A bird that stalks down his narrow cage can seldom see through his bars of rage.
It wouldn't hurt to try.
That's the spirit.
And once we fix Pidge, we can celebrate by taking a trip to the Pie Hole.
It's a nifty spot with lots of interesting folks.
You never know who you might run into.
With that, Olive Snook set her plan in motion.
Why would we go out for pie when you just brought us one? I'll think of a reason.
While Olive Snook considered how to get Lily and Vivian out of their rut the Pie-Maker was considering worst-case scenarios.
Not only for a rogue hijacker who he had been hired to find by Becky Caden but for Chuck and the man who caught her in a way the Pie-Maker never could.
They're not here.
This is bad.
Well, maybe they went for a stroll.
That would not make it better.
What's worse? The two of them locked in a hijacker's car or sipping mimosas in a hotel room? I'm not a fan of either scenario.
What's that smell? - I thought it might be your cologne.
- Who wears cologne? I wear cologne.
Look.
They had coffee.
Oh There's something bad in there.
- Aah! - Mm-mm.
- Is that the hijacker? - What kind of fool hijacker hides himself in the damn coffee table? Damn.
So cramped, I feel like I'm stuffed in a trunk.
- You are stuffed in a trunk.
- Don't contradict an old man.
Did you hijack that plane? What plane? Oh, hell's fire, that thing flew into my apartment.
This is your apartment? What did I just say? There I was, enjoying my daily prunes and the psyllium powder and hoping for the best.
Suddenly I see that thing flying at me.
If this is your apartment, then who is Conrad? What is this, the idiot brigade? Hello.
Oh.
Do you like pie? Lt'd be criminal not to like pie.
Everything I am everything I was everything that represented me as a human being was in there.
I have to start over.
I lost everything once.
And you know Did a plane fly into your living room? - No.
- Or was it arson? No, it was something else, but I felt a queer thrill of opportunity.
To get new stuff? To let go of everything I didn't like and to hold on to everything about me that I did.
Well, I've just met you, but I can't imagine anything about you that isn't something to like.
Chuck's first thought was to quickly pull her hand away.
Her second thought was how nice it felt to have someone hold her hand.
Oh, I'm sorry.
Was that your boyfriend back there? The one who took a step back to let you fall? He didn't let me fall.
It was actually a very affectionate gesture.
In context.
If it was only the Pie-Maker's hand.
Can I ask you a small favor? Would you hold my hand just for a moment? But don't say anything, and I'm gonna close my eyes.
All right.
In that moment, Chuck was holding the Pie-Maker's hand.
- Lf only by proxy.
Ahem.
It was the proxy that concerned the Pie-Maker.
I gotta pee.
- How did it go? - Where did he go? Conrad? He was going to the bathroom.
He's not Conrad, he's the hijacker.
He's going to the bathroom in my kitchen.
Boy, miss one trip to the morgue.
Is this the hand you were holding? Well, he's a big fibber, isn't he? A big fibber whose hand you were holding.
What's that about? I was If you must know I was pretending I was holding your hand.
Is that supposed to make me feel better? Well, yeah.
On one hand it does.
On the other hand, the hand you were holding, it doesn't.
- Ned, he's an escaped convict.
- You didn't know that.
Not only is he an escaped convict, he's a hijacker who's prevented thousands of crops from being airily fertilized.
And he stuffed a surly old dead guy in a trunk.
I'm not saying he isn't guilty, and not saying I am.
I'm just saying that it's not about him.
No, it's about our client, Becky Caden.
The woman your man widowed when he decided to crop dust someone's living room.
Did you catch him? That one-armed bitch was speedy.
But I checked with my people at the prison.
You got people? That's so neat.
- Did you find out anything good? - Yes.
And we're gonna need shovels.
Emerson Cod had learned three things.
First, the man they knew as Conrad Fitch was actually one Lemuel Weinger a low-level employee of a company called Ornin Energy.
Second, Ornin was an energy-based corporation known for several types of trading: Plastics, steel and insider.
The latter cost Lemuel his right hand.
It also cost him his freedom.
Third, during his incarceration, Lemuel became known as Lefty Lem.
A name given to him by his cellmate, Jackson Lucas an infamous diamond thief whose final escapade resulted in a buried treasure that was never recovered.
Even after he died.
He ended up in a prison graveyard with his secret.
Oh, so Lefty Lem was a white-collar criminal.
That makes much more sense.
Oh, thank you.
Gonna get paid once by the widow when we prove her husband's death wasn't suicide.
Dead bodies always lead to paydays.
- Yeah, yeah.
Vodka in the freezer.
- Gonna get paid twice by the feds when they give us the reward for kicking Lefty back to the clink.
Looking forward to that.
And we'll get paid thrice by finding Jackson's buried booty.
Heh-heh.
Hey.
Hey.
Come to papa.
You might wanna avert your eyes.
There's a chance he'll be on the dewy side.
Damn.
I hate dewy.
Are you mad at me? Why would I be mad? For holding someone's hand that wasn't yours.
Seriously, in a prison graveyard.
That's where you're gonna have this conversation? You should, uh, breathe through your mouths.
- I would have preferred more eyeball.
- Just touch the damn thing.
- No, wait.
- For what? A little dignity.
Thanks.
I can't see anything.
Am I blind? Good news is you're not blind.
Bad news is you're dead.
Makes blind seem like a walk in the park, doesn't it? - Where'd you bury your loot, Jack? - Ha! - Why should I tell you? - Good karma.
It's like currency in the afterlife.
The old windmill on the VonRoenn farm, at the bottom of the stairs.
- How much that worth? - Plenty.
Ask him about Lefty.
Did you tell him where you buried it? Of course I did.
I owed him that much.
What did you owe him for? Keeping the fire alive.
All right, we got a windmill to find.
Chuck's fire may not be alive as far as her aunts Lillian and Vivian were concerned.
But Olive was doing her best to reignite it.
Brackets.
Brackets.
- Ribbon.
- Ribbon.
- Bejeweler.
- Bejeweler.
Can I do one? Maybe the last one.
If you like, we could bejewel Pidge's birdhouse when we're done.
Pidge's house is only temporary.
No sense in bejeweling an empty home, is there, Pidge? There's something so sad about an empty birdhouse.
When one of our birds dies we taxiderm it, put it right back on its perch.
Vivian does wonders with sand and thread.
And little marble eyes.
It's like our birds never left at all.
You can't put everything back on its perch.
Must've been all kinds of horrible for you when Charlotte left.
She didn't leave.
She died.
And no amount of sand or thread or little marble eyes will ever bring her back.
But Olive didn't need sand or thread or little marble eyes to bring Chuck back.
She needed a confluence of events.
Wing.
And she was about to get one.
Wing.
Can I do the last bejewel? I already did it.
Oh What do you think, Pidge? And while Olive, the aunts and Pidge looked forward to the next step in their journey another journey had reached a dead end.
Is she dead? Lefty Lem has officially taken the lead.
- You think fake Conrad killed her? - Occam's razor.
All things equal, the simplest solution tends to be the best.
I believed that until you brought me back.
Kind of screws the theory.
Maybe your finger needs a new battery.
Let me try.
Ow.
- He did it.
- He did it.
I must have dozed off again.
Uh, can I help you? We're looking for a windmill.
A VanRoenn variety windmill.
Oh, that's funny.
A young man was just in here asking about the VanRoenn mill.
Didn't happen to have one arm, did he? - As a matter of fact, he did.
- Occam's.
- Bless you.
- Thank you.
The windmill.
What happened to it? Raised, wrecked, rebuilt, removed? Retired.
No farm, no use.
Got shipped off to NARM some 20 years ago.
Why send it to 'Nam? Did the Vietnamese need windmills? NARM.
National Area of Retired Mills.
VanRoenn Mill has been preserved for an historical landmark.
I have a map here.
Ha-ha-ha.
Now, that's narcoleptic.
Necrophiliac's the other one.
Yeah.
Armed with a new plan the Pie-Maker and associates left the narcoleptic curator to her dreams.
Meanwhile, back in Couer d'Couers a tiny friend was planning her own escape.
Olive's disdain for Chuck was split in two.
One for stealing the Pie-Maker's heart the other for breaking the aunts '.
You know you wanna read Pidge's message.
Lily would be so displeased.
There was an incident.
I read something that I shouldn't have, and then life went horribly awry.
Lily never forgave me.
She said she did but she didn't.
Well Now, I'm more interested in that story.
- Let's put Pidge back into her house.
- Pidge has left the building.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry her empty birdhouse makes you sad.
Maybe you could fill it with all your Charlotte sadness and hang it in a special place in your soul.
That's an awfully sad birdhouse to have hanging in one's soul.
Hang it someplace you don't have to see it.
Won't always be sad.
It'll be the happiest little birdhouse when you're ready.
Make a little birdhouse in your soul.
Don't encourage her.
I think she looks divine.
- Son of a bitch.
- Wait.
You forgot your message.
Pidge.
Pidge, wait.
You forgot your message.
As the aunts watched Olive scream for help Pidge.
Help me.
they considered their own birdcage and wondered if they were ready to leave it behind.
A few miles away looking out across the fields and hills a beautiful woman named Elsita waited for the man she loved to make her heart complete.
Little did she know Lefty Lem was already on his way.
What the hell do you want? I'm from the Papen County Historical Society.
We'd like to photograph these premises for our 87th annual Mills of the Wind Papen County collector's calendar.
Where's your camera? It's in the car.
You're lying.
But I'm bored.
I'm your only friend I'm not your only friend But I'm a little glowing friend But really I'm not actually your friend But I am Blue canary in the outlet By the light switch Who watches over you - Make a little birdhouse in your soul - Not to put too fine a point on it Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet - Make a little birdhouse in your soul - Make a little birdhouse in your soul Never mind the singing, keep your eye on that bird.
You know our problem? If you're referring to the touching, I see it as more of an obstacle.
- It's big.
- Not compared to our other problems.
- We've got other problems? - I'm gonna kill myself.
There's so much I'm learning about you.
Such as? - You're a romantic.
- When the mood strikes.
- You're jealous.
- Everyone's a little jealous.
If you're not a little jealous, you're probably - Can we not talk about this? - The answer to your query is yes.
No, actually, I wanna talk about this.
I could let it go.
It will come back.
Which I wouldn't call annoying.
But there's no great way of saying half-annoying, which it is.
See? Isn't this neat? Here we were thinking we had one big problem when we have hundreds of little problems that we gotta sort out which means we're like everybody else in the world.
Except I still can't catch you.
Yeah, we're taking two cars next time.
That's a big ax.
I'm not gonna hurt you, I promise.
This is, uh, just a precautionary measure.
Wouldn't it be easier if you put the ax down then tied the rope? It's funny, you really are a one-armed bandit.
Your name's not McClappin, is it? - As in the sound of one hand - No.
Because names are destiny.
If you think Dwayne Cloggin ain't gonna be a plumber then you just think again.
Oh, no, you didn't use bows to tie me up, did you? You take a hostage like you tie sneakers.
- What is your problem? - Well.
I was born into the life of windmillery Are you gonna listen or knock? I'm listening.
You were born into the life of windmillery.
Always waiting on wind to show up so you can start work and I'm no good at waiting.
I'm tired of it.
You sure it was the wind that you were a-waiting for? Did you just say "a-waiting"? If you're mimicking me, I'll be out of these faster than a snake through weeds.
- I wasn't thinking and I apologize.
It's just I have a lot on my mind and I'm in a bit of a rush.
Oh, where are you rushing to? I don't really know yet.
Well, maybe you better figure that out.
Go back to your knocking.
Ahem.
Come on, Pidge.
You can do it.
Not even a breeze to help poor Pidge.
Which is kind of ironic, given the surroundings.
Pidge! Come on! The pigeon, growing fatigued with each flap of her taxidermy wing knew something the others did not.
Her journey was almost complete.
What was that? It's my bird.
Oh - That's my bird.
- What are you on about? - It's my bird.
- I'll prove it.
I wrote the note.
Where's the note? Hello.
Can I get my bird back, please? - Your bird? - Your bird? Yes, my bird.
She's a carrier pigeon.
She has a message and she has to carry it.
It's what she does.
That's my message.
- Elsa? - I'm Elsita.
Jackson? I'm Lem.
Elsa was my mama.
Jackson was my prison bunkmate.
Is bunkmates a euphemism for? Not in this case, ma'am.
There was bitter chill in the air the night Jackson Lucas found refuge in the VanRoenn windmill.
Already five days on the lam, he knew the police were closing in.
To preserve his dreams of one day owning an art gallery in Mexico Jackson decided to bury his stolen treasure in the staircase of the seemingly abandoned property.
His heart stopped, however, when he saw an angelic creature descending the stairs.
Her name was Elsa and this was her windmill.
My name is Elsa.
This is my windmill.
It was love at first sight.
Knowing he had very little time left, he kissed her.
It was a perfect moment.
The next moment was not.
I'll write you.
Elsa kept true to her word.
For the next 20 years, she and Jackson continued their love affair by correspondence.
Letters sent to and fro with the help of her virtually untraceable carrier pigeon.
Until the day Jackson knew he would no longer be able to keep his promise.
Someone else would have to do it for him.
After Jackson died, I started to plan my escape.
It took me two years.
And all that time, I kept writing to Elsa.
At first, out of loyalty to the man who taught me the ropes in prison.
But after a while I started to develop A condition? For Elsa.
Least I thought it was Elsa.
Mama made me swear on her deathbed that I'd never stop writing to Jackson.
Said it would break his heart to learn she died.
But each letter was more beautiful than the last.
And I found myself looking forward to them.
Your letters were beautiful too.
What's the big whoop? Pidge brought them together.
How did she lose her wing? Took her with me on the plane when I busted out of prison.
She flew out the window after takeoff and went right through the propeller.
Oh Pidge crashed the plane.
Oh, Pidge.
- What happened to the diamonds? Diamonds? Holy crap.
Holy crap.
Huh.
Now, now.
Let's not panic.
I'm sure it's just the mailman.
Or a windmill-to-windmill salesman.
Let me handle it.
As Olive peeped through the peephole, it occurred to her that while the carrier pigeon was safe inside the windmill the same could not be said for the sitting duck currently waiting on the doorstep.
This was the moment Olive Snook had been waiting for.
She need only open the door to expose Chuck's deceit to the aunts and the Pie-Maker could be hers.
It was everything Olive wanted.
And yet She knew that the aunts would be traumatized by the discovery that the late Charlotte Charles was late no more.
In that moment, Olive felt the angry fire in her heart extinguished by a light breeze.
She had grown fond of Lily and Vivian and could not bring herself to hurt them.
Afternoon, gang.
- Olive? - What are you doing here? Pie delivery.
Tart apple, I believe.
With those two words, Chuck knew.
Her aunts were inside.
- Olive - If you know what's good for you and I think you do, give me two minutes.
- What for? - Okay.
Goody then.
Who was it? Wrong mill.
Must happen a lot around here, huh? Anyway, I feel awful that we've taken up so much of your day.
We should be going.
Uh, do you mind if we use the back door? I just wanted to peek at your garden on the way out.
Thanks.
Bye.
- Ned? - Hmm? Remember I told you all the things I'd learned about you? Jealous, romantic, jealous.
Felt I had to say it twice.
Well, now might be a good time to write all the things you learned about me.
- Why? - Well, that way, if stuff happens just remember the list.
- Time's up.
Well, now, wasn't that a nice outing? I could use a drink.
Young people depress Lily because she's afraid of dying.
As Lily wondered whether she was afraid of dying or simply missed feeling alive she allowed herself one deep breath of fresh country air.
I don't think we've been out since Charlotte? No need to yell her name.
I think heaven's closer than we think.
I agree.
Hmm.
Hand up.
Lemuel, I'll write you.
The Pie-Maker and the girl he called Chuck marveled at love's power to conquer all obstacles.
Distance and time.
Hardship and pain.
A lack of reciprocation.
Even death.
Your husband was a great pilot.
He didn't kill himself, a pigeon did.
By accident.
With Pidge's help, the long-distance love affair of Lefty and Elsita continued to soar.
And the Pie-Maker realized that while some obstacles may never disappear Care to dance? Hmm.
Yes, please.
- You can always find a way to work around them.
You caught me.