“The Lemon Queen of Louella Street” | by Chelsea Judge | Bless Her Heart & Mine Too | Sep, 2025

No one ever dared challenge Miss Arlinda May on two things: her lemon chess pie recipe and her ability to hold a grudge.

She was the kind of woman who wore floral muumuus year-round and kept her yard so pristine, even the squirrels tiptoed across it. Every September, just as the heat started loosening its grip on our little South Carolina town, Arlinda would prop open her screen door and set a handwritten sign on her porch steps:
“Lemon Pie Slices — $3.00. One Per Customer. No Exceptions.”

It wasn’t the pie that brought all the fuss — though Lord knows it was good — it was the drama that came with it.

See, Arlinda had a gift for collecting secrets. Folks came for the pie, but they stayed to talk. Divorcees, tired mamas, grumpy husbands, and even the town librarian all somehow ended up in that lemon-scented kitchen, spilling their guts over a chipped Formica table and a slice of something holy.

She never judged, just listened. Well… mostly listened. Sometimes she raised a brow so high it looked like it had plans of its own.

But that one September, things changed.

Arlinda stopped selling pie for three weeks straight. The town buzzed. Was she sick? Was she mad? Did someone have the audacity to suggest the grocery store’s frozen lemon squares were better?

Turns out, her youngest niece — Tasha, a hotshot marketing student up in Charlotte — had paid her a surprise visit. Tasha took one bite of the pie and immediately declared it “an untapped business empire.” Arlinda didn’t know what empire meant, but she didn’t like the sound of it.

Tasha had big ideas. A website. Labels. Something called “branding.” She even took Arlinda’s pie to a food truck festival without asking — and won second place. Second. Not first. And that was the real offense.

When Arlinda found out, she didn’t yell. She just sat real still, dabbed the corners of her mouth, and said, “Well… I reckon the devil markets too, don’t he?”

Tasha left early the next morning.

The following Saturday, a new sign appeared.
“Pie Slices — $3.00. Two if you’ve had a bad week. No influencers.”

And the line was longer than ever.