"Hey," Sharon says, stepping down from the chair. She keeps her voice light, though what he says saddens her to the core. "This is at least as much my fault as yours."

Wanda, having finished venting the smoke, is crouched down in front of the open oven, studying it. "The juice leaked out," she says, and steps aside to show them the blackened, sticky mess on the oven floor. "That's what burned."

She gives the attempted pie a carefully neutral glance. "But this was just your first try, right?"