Джанет Кантрелл - Fat Cat Takes The Cake

The woman who had come late, right before Grace, was rattled. Not as badly as Grace, but she had managed to drop two of the three lemons she was attempting to squeeze. Julie whispered to Chase that if something hit the floor, you weren’t allowed to use it. Anyway, Chase thought, that would be gross, even if it wasn’t a rule.

The others worked competently, concentrating on their own projects, some of them apparently unaware of the drama at the end of the row. The lone man, at the other end of the row, looked the most professional—after Anna.

“Who is that?” Chase asked Julie, nodding toward the male baker.

Julie shrugged.

“That’s Andy Pluck,” Bill said. “He has an all-night diner a block from my pet shop.”

“Are his baked things good?” Julie asked.

“I wouldn’t compare them to anything at Bar None. He does a lot of cookies and pies.”

“I’ve eaten there,” Jay said. “His cookies are good, all very sweet, but his pie crusts are kind of thick and hard. Good fillings, though.”

Chase surveyed the others. Maybe she was biased, but Anna was definitely the most professional. She got her dessert bars into the oven before anyone else. The contest was timed, so working quickly got them points for efficiency. Surely Anna had won that part.

The huddle finally broke up and the man who had held the microphone, now carrying a clipboard and pen, approached Grace.

Grace had managed to get flour, sugar, and eggs into her bowl and was starting to mix them together. The man motioned for her to stop. She looked up and frowned at him, the lines in her face making her seem even more haggard and much older than she was.

He was obviously asking her to leave. That must have been hard for him to do, since she had been such a big part of this event from its beginning. It was probably why the conference had taken so long. Some of them, if not all of them, must have been in favor of letting Grace compete.

When it came down to it, though, the judges would have to sample what each person made. Those who sampled Grace’s products would be exposing themselves to whatever bug she was carrying. For Chase, disqualifying her would have been an easy decision, but she hadn’t worked with Grace on the Minny Batter Battle like those people had.

Grace stood there stunned for a few moments, her eyes staring and her mouth hanging open. Then she furiously flung her things together. Her shoulders shook and Chase was sure she could see tears on Grace’s hard face. The woman held her head high and her shoulders back as she marched out. Chase felt so sorry for her, she almost forgot that this was Grace Pilsen, a woman she couldn’t stand.

At the end of the Batter Battle, when Anna was proclaimed the first-place winner, it was almost anticlimactic. The drama had been over when Grace left. Chase hoped that both Anna and Grace would compete next year to find out who was the true champion.

Anna felt the same way, she said, as they all walked together to the parking lot.

“I don’t feel like I really won when my main competition wasn’t there. I almost wish the whole thing would have been postponed for a week, until Grace was better. That would have been a real battle.”

“You’re too good for your own good,” Bill said, squeezing her shoulders somehow, in spite of the fact that he was carrying three bags of her things.

Julie held the tray of the Blueberry Muffin Bars that the judges hadn’t eaten. They had big plans for those, back at the Bar None kitchen.

• • •

On Sunday, atabout ten in the evening, Eddie called Chase. She debated answering it long enough that her phone quit ringing. When it immediately started again, she picked up and told Eddie, “Hi.”

“Hey, I got a great surprise for you. You gotta come by my store tomorrow morning.”

“Eddie, it’s my day off and I’m going to be terribly busy picking things up for the wedding.” She wished! The bridesmaid dresses still weren’t in.

“You won’t be sorry. It won’t take long, I promise. You’ll love it. Come by around nine.”

He hung up before she could protest further. It might be easier, she told herself, to go there. Maybe she could think of a way to tell him she couldn’t see him anymore. She was so happy that Mike had shown up to help them celebrate on Saturday. When he’d walked into the Bar None through the rear door and gave her a peck on the lips, she knew that all the tension between them was gone and they were on solid footing now. She had laughed with Mike, and with Julie, Jay, Anna, and Bill, late into the night.

She’d been pleased when Mike told her that his cousin, Patrice, had decided to go to work for the police department, teaching them how to detect and foil pickpockets and thieves. They were paying her for giving the classes and even suggested that other police departments might want to hire her, if the initial session went well.

Before Mike left, he’d come upstairs to give her a proper good-night kiss after a few pets for Quincy, and she’d gone to bed in a haze of happiness and love. She was determined not to mess things up between them again.

On Monday, she drove to Eddie’s Health Bar and arrived angry that she was there. Why hadn’t she called Eddie back and told him she couldn’t make it? She had a million things to do today.

His shop wasn’t open yet, but he let her in as soon as he saw her at the door.

“Here’s what I want to do for a wedding gift to Anna and Bill,” he said.

With dismay, she saw he’d laid out a complete buffet on his sales counter. There were at least a dozen plates full of finger food.

“Go ahead, taste a few of my creations. I’m volunteering to cater the reception.” He was grinning, waiting for her to tell him how wonderful he was.

“Eddie.” She summoned up a reserve of patience. “The reception has been arranged for a long time. Someone else is doing it.”

“The more, the merrier, right? Go on, taste something.”

Everything on the counter was green or brown. There was no way.

“Eddie. I have to be honest. We can’t use your food. And—”

“I’m not charging anything. You can just add this—”

“—and I can’t see you anymore. I’m committed to Mike Ramos. I’m seeing him.”

“Ramos? The vet?”

“Please don’t call anymore. I can’t see you. I’ve realized we don’t have a thing in common. We need to quit seeing each other.” She hurried out before he could say anything else. Starting up her car, she saw him coming out the door. She clicked her locks and sped away.

There. She had done it. Why had it taken her so long?

THIRTY-NINE

After lunch alone in her apartment—alone except for her furry guy, Quincy—Chase became aware of the sun streaming through her balcony French doors.

“You know what we should do, don’t you?” She dangled the harness and leash and Quincy jumped up and came over.

“I think we’ve done it, old boy. I think we’ve conquered this leash thing.”

As they strolled in the bright, crisp air, she called Anna.

“You were right.”

“I usually am, but what about this time?”

“We finally have it mastered, the walking on a leash.”

Quincy stopped walking to study a noisy junco in the tree above them. The small bird with its soft gray back and white breast sent out a trill that made Chase check her cell phone. Quincy swished his tail and walked on, his ears pointed rearward at the sassy bird.

“And Quincy likes it?” Anna said.

“He seems to. He comes running when I get the harness out.”

“Be sure you fasten that thing, Charity. I don’t want him finding a dead body two days before my wedding.”

“I sure wish we could find the bridesmaid dresses.”