Bluegrass Courtship by Allie Pleiter

single-page menus with the special of the day written on a chalkboard up by the grill. A linoleum floor, and red vinyl stools lined up along the counter. The classic American diner.
    A big, boisterous woman with hair piled high on top of her head called out to Janet as she walked in the door, then made a total fuss over Drew as he came in behind her. “Look here, it’s our TV star!” she said, rushing to smooth out the tablecloth at what Drew was sure she considered her best booth. “I was hoping you’d come in here sooner or later.”
    â€œWell,” said Drew as he extended a hand, “I had about a dozen people tell me I couldn’t leave Middleburg without tasting Deacon’s pie. If anything tastes as good as it smells in here, I’m not going to be disappointed.”
    â€œThis is Gina Deacon,” Janet said as she slid in opposite Drew. “All the good pies are her doing.”
    â€œI’m tickled to see you in here today, you know,” Gina said as she filled Drew’s and Janet’s cups with great-smelling coffee, “’Cuz I been working on a special project in honor of your visit. I been fiddling around with a local specialty, adding some of those cookies you like so much. I call it Milk and Cookies Pie. Got the first one in back right now. Made with a heaping batch of Delicious Dave’s and a whole bunch of other good stuff.” She flushed and put her hand to her chest. “I’d be honored if you’d give it a taste.”
    People often gave Drew things, little trinkets, souvenirs and such, but the gifts that were creations—fruits of thoughtfulness and labor—won his heart most of all. Companies gave him things, he had a box of plaques and awards somewhere in the back of the bus, but it was kids’ drawings and a handmade Missionnovation knit scarf that decorated his desk. He smiled. “I’d be a fool to turn down an opportunity like that.”
    Gina strutted off to the kitchen to unveil Milk and Cookies Pie. This kind of stuff just never got old for him. People—all individual, unique people—were still the most amazing things God ever created.
    He poured a dollop of creamer into his coffee. Actual cream in a little ceramic pitcher, not that semi-liquid non-dairy stuff that came sealed in little plastic cups. When was the last time he’d not had to take his coffee creamer out of the package before he used it? “I’ve been thinking about the preschool garden. We’re onto something with the rain barrels and the little gardening station. I want to turn it into a mini ecology center. Get kids to realize part of seeing God in the world is seeing God in nature.”
    Janet took her coffee black. He could have guessed that. “I can’t see how anyone would argue with that.”
    â€œI noticed this great birdhouse in the churchyard—a little replica of the church. Beautifully handcrafted. Do you know who made it? I want to set up a whole neighborhood of those birdhouses to use in the garden. Can’t you just see it? Little birdhouses that look like places in Middleburg? We could even have a Bishop Hardware birdhouse. It would help the kids understand that animals are a part of God’s world just as much as they are.”
    Drew has suspected Janet might find the concept a little too artsy, but since it’d support a local artisan, he thought she’d go for it. Now he wasn’t sure—she got the most bizarre look on her face, as if she found the subject of birdhouses embarrassing.
    â€œDon’t you have people on your team who could build those kinds of things?” she asked.
    â€œNot like that. I looked at it closely. That thing was really well done.”
    Gina came back with two slices of the gooiest, creamiest-looking concoction he’d ever seen. She must have caught the tail end of their conversation, because she smiled at him as she set the plates down on