by Nicole Falls
“Aight, I can work with that. Have they told you who I’d be working with yet? Is it anyone that we know?”
“Well...about that,” Tesha hedged.
“Ah, there it is! Here comes the catch. What is it?”
“Well, okay, see I’m not supposed to know this info, but do you remember Dre?”
“Dre as in your ex-boyfriend from high school Deandre who was at our house more than I was? Nah, never heard of dude.”
Tesha rolled her eyes and continued speaking, “Well Dre works for Savor, and when this opportunity came up, he reached out to see if I could get you onboard.”
“And clearly it’s still anything for Dre when it comes to you.”
Tesh blushed before waving me off.
“Anyway...”
“Whatever happened between you and ol’ Dre Dawg anyway? I thought for sure I’d be walking your ugly self down the aisle to marry dude as soon as y’all were of age.”
“First of all, quit playin’ nigga—I'm finer than any chick you’ve ever dreamed of. And part two, you’re derailing, focus Travie!”
“Whatever, man.”
“So, are you in or not? Dre said he's gonna ask Montrell Boyd if you say no. And, I mean...if we want our hometown not to be completely embarrassed and eliminated week one, you’re the better choice, cuzzo.”
“What. Is. The. Catch?”
“There is no catch. It's a great opportunity for you to showcase your personality on screen. You’ll be seen as philanthropic because, in addition to whomever you’re paired with winning a nice cash prize, there will also be a nice sum of money donated to the charity of your choice in your name...” Tesh trailed off.
“Tesha Shanae Spires, what is the information that you’re not supposed to know, but you know because of Dre and you’re hedging around telling me? Spit it out.”
“Why do you keep saying his name like that?”
“Like what?”
Tesh deepened her tone and imitated the inflection I’d been purposefully putting on her ex’s name.
“Oh, because that’s how you sound when you say it. You sure you aren’t using me as a ploy to get back in striking distance of buddy? You coulda slid into a DM, cuz.”
“Look, I know that’s how you get your hoes, but...some of us have tact,” Tesha groused, clearly ruffled by my teasing.
“Right, because tact is using your super famous cousin to leverage an opportunity to put yourself back in your ex’s orbit. Got it,” I joked.
“Are you done?”
“Wait. Timeout, how are you the one annoyed when I am the one who’s being pushed into doing something that I’d probably rather not do. What part of the game is that?”
“Isobel Knight,” Tesha smirked, “That’s who you’ll be paired with.”
“Welp, better tell Dre Dawg to call in ol’ Trelly Trell because hell no. Super hell no,” I stated adamantly.
I hadn’t heard the name Isobel Knight since leaving my hometown for college, and then the league, before I’d returned here to live. And I could certainly go the rest of my natural born days without hearing it again. In those aforementioned home economics courses, Isobel was the biggest thorn in my side. Longfellow loved pairing us together because the result of said pairing usually culminated in something amazing, but the course traveled to get to that result? Rocky as hell, full of struggle and strife and silly disagreements. Isobel was a know-it-all, goody two shoe pain in my ass in high school.
“Not even for the Trevor Coleman Foundation to receive a hefty donation?”
“I don’t know if there is any amount of money that’ll help me stomach being bossed about by Isobel Knight, cuz, sorry. I know you were tryna get back in ya man's good graces and all by using me but...”
“What happened to my slow yes?”
“Shit turned into a rapid no when you invoked the name of the only person in all of Lewiston High School that couldn’t stand my ass.”
“Bruh, that was like twenty years ago. If she...or hell, you, still holding a grudge for that long? I suggest that you get therapy. Or just realize what everyone else did all those years ago and fuck it out.”
I shuddered, “Oh please. And cuz, we graduated ten years ago. It hasn’t been that long.”
“Ten years is too long to be still holding onto whatever silliness you’re using as a flimsy excuse to say no right now though, Trav. It’s a nice sized donation if you guys make it to the end, bro.”
“How nice?” I asked, out of genuine curiosity.
“Fifty thousand reasons for you to get over your coconut with Isobel and say yes,” Tesha replied, smugly.
Fifty grand was a decent amount of money that my foundation could definitely use. I started it early in my football career, in honor of my dad. He had been a jazz saxophonist in a band that toured far too frequently for my mother’s liking. So, when she told him that she was pregnant with me, he settled down, went back to school and got his teaching license. He was well known within our community as a music teacher, band leader, and all-around patron for the arts to be kept in schools.
When I started in the league and really wanted to put my money to good use, it was a no-brainer for me to start a foundation in his name to keep his legacy going. The Trevor Coleman Foundation sought to keep music and the arts in local schools in my hometown. We were partnered with six schools on the elementary, junior high and high school levels—providing funding that took care of the cost of instruments, supplies, teachers extra salaries and any other miscellaneous fees associated with the programs.
“So, you’re gonna front like you didn’t have a thing for Isobel back in the day? Admit it, her lack of hero worship when it came to your overinflated ego was a bit of a draw. You liked that she wasn’t falling all over you like everyone else just because you happened to be able to make some things happen when a ball was clutched between your palms. Not to mention she was gorgeous. Her skin was the envy of every girl in our grade, Trav.”
“I’m not fronting like anything. I did what I needed to do to ensure my grade stayed high in Longfellow’s class, but beyond that? I could do without Isobel Knight in my life, thankyouverymuch.”
Tesha’s mention of Isobel’s skin did trigger the memory of my initial feelings of attraction to her that were quashed as soon as she opened her mouth. Isobel Knight was the possessor of the smoothest dark brown skin, curious almond-shaped eyes, heart-shaped lips, and resembled a pint-sized Kelly Rowland...pre-alleged nose job. She was definitely bad as hell, but that attitude ruined all of that physical beauty and turned me off almost instantaneously. It wasn’t just that she didn’t fall all over herself to be in my presence like practically every other female in our school—faculty and staff included, but that she seemed to go as far as possible in the opposite direction. Her disdain for me was barely concealed, and she was impervious to my charm. The shit was annoying then, and I couldn’t imagine it being much different now.
“So, you’re just gonna leave fifty racks sitting on the table, Travis? That doesn’t seem too smart to me,” Tesha teased.
“You keep saying that like it’s a foregone conclusion that we’ll win. Tesh…please don’t tell me that Dre is finna rig this shit so that we win.”
“Oh my god, no! Boy shut up! I’m just saying if my memory serves—despite your differences, you and Isobel together created magic, man. You've only gotten better with age, and I’d assume the same for her since she’s running Whisk now. There is no way that you guys don’t at least make it to the finals, if not taking the whole thing. Do it for the culture, Trav!”
“And what culture is that exactly?”
“The Lewiston culture, fool. Hometown pride means nothin’ to you these days? Whew, a brotha moves away for a lil bit and loses his roots. A damn shame. I’m tellin’ Auntie Lydia.”
“Tellin’ me what?” my mother asked, walking into the room with a curious expression on her face.
Today was the day that I regretted the fact that they both lived h
ere with me. I knew that once Tesh spilled the beans about this baking shit, she and my mom would work to double-team me into saying yes.
“Nothin’ that you need to be concerned with, mama,” I said at the same time Tesh opened her big mouth.
“Guess who has a chance to be a contestant on Ultimate Bake Off, auntie? Or should I say Ultimate Holiday Bake Off—the Celebrity Edition, but he’s passing!”
Bake Off was one of our favorite shows to watch together, so I already knew my mother would jump on my back about not taking advantage of the opportunity that so many likely dreamed about but didn’t have access handed to them as I did. I braced myself for the inevitable lecture, but none came. Instead, my mother chuckled.
“Typical. He’s probably shook, Tesh. Don’t think he can hang with real bakers,” mama replied, still snickering.
“Excuse me?” I said, rearing my head back in shock, “I can’t hang?! Lady, I can out bake you any day!”
“And I’m a home cook, so you should be able to out bake me. But when it comes to leveling up? You’re shook.”
“Who even taught you the meaning of shook?” I asked.
“There you go with that deflecting sh...stuff again,” Tesh grumbled.
“Aye, man. Shut up. And mama, ain’t nobody scared. I just...it ain’t a good look right now,” I said.
“Why not? I can’t believe I’ve raised a chump,” my mom continued, shaking her head, “Scared of a lil competition. A damn shame.”
“Ma!” I yelled, a little offended at how hard she was going in.
I wasn’t scared of shit.
“Aight, Tesh, tell Dre I’m in!” I said.
“Great. I kinda already did,” Tesh said handing me a manila folder that had been sitting on the counter while we were chatting, “Inside you’ll find the contracts. I already had Barry review them and make any modifications he thought were necessary, so all we need is your John Hancock, and we’re good to go.”
I signed the papers with a flourish, “See who’s shook now!”
Mama and Tesh cackled while slapping five.
“Boy, you are too damn easy to get,” my mama said, “We knew all along that all it would take is a little prodding and you’d eventually give in.”
“Wait,” I said, holding my hands up in a T formation, “Timeout. Y’all were plotting on me? This was a setup?”
“I don’t like to think of it as much of a set up as it was an intervention,” Tesh laughed.
“Yeah, baby. You’ve been moping around here with your head held down since that commentating opportunity fell through so this came right on time, really. It might not be the way you thought you’d grace our television screens initially, but who knows what opportunities can arise from this one, you know?”
“Damn, I can’t believe y’all played me. It be ya own people.”
“Oh hush,” Tesh laughed, “You’ll be aight.”
“Famous last words,” I smirked.
-3-
“Are you ready, Belly?” Gram called out from my living room.
“No!” I called back, stress coating that singularly uttered word.
I was in my room, preparing myself for the first day of filming. Well technically, it wasn’t the real first day of filming, but a sort of pre-show introduction situation. The Savor network folks had wanted to capitalize on the theme of “home for the holidays”, so they’d chosen eight bakers from the four regions of the country and paired us with notable folks who were also from our hometowns or general metro areas. A part of me wanted to back out once I realized that I wouldn’t be doing this on my own, but Gam…and my cousins weren’t having it. I had no idea who in the heck they could be pairing me with, but I was a little excited. We didn’t have a ton of super famous people who had origins in Lewiston beyond a few dudes who’d made it to a variety of sports leagues, so I had no idea with whom I would be paired.
“Well, you’d better get yourself ready, little girl because here comes a whole cavalcade of people with cameras and…oh, hello, handsome!” Gam cooed.
Her response made me want to peek through my bedroom window to see if I could get a look at whomever she was referring to as handsome—hopefully my new partner. Some eye candy would take away a bit of the stress of this competition for damn sure. I decided against the peek, preferring to give Savor network precisely what they’d asked for, a genuine first response to them showing up to my door with my celebrity partner in tow. The doorbell sounded, and I made my way out to the living room to answer the door. Gam beamed in my direction, giving a double thumbs up as I steeled myself before opening the door.
I opened the door to see an all too familiar face that immediately made my face screw up into a scowl.
“Oh hell no,” I said, slamming the door shut and turning on a heel to head back into my room.
“Belly!” Gam exclaimed, rushing past me to the door to apologize for my rudeness; I’m sure, but I was too flustered to give a damn.
Travis freakin’ Coleman…of all of the people from Lewiston that I could have been paired up with, it had to be that jerk. There was no way I would continue to go on with this competition. I’d have to find another way to increase cash flow into Whisk because if it were hinged upon me pairing up with Travis Coleman? It would be a cold day in hell before I let that happen.
“Little girl, have you lost your entire mind?” Gam said, marching into my room and whispering furiously right into my face, “What in the world is wrong with you, slamming the door in those nice people’s faces like that?”
“Gam, please,” I replied, collapsing onto my bed, burying my face into my pillow.
“Please my fat fanny, what is your problem, Isobel Marie? Use your words, you know I don’t do all of these dramatics!”
I raised my head and scoffed, “Oh please, I learned these dramatics from you.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah…tell those lies to someone who doesn’t know better! What is going on, Belly? I thought you were excited for this! We were both excited about this. What changed?”
“Travis freakin’ Coleman is what changed everything. I can’t work with him, Gam. It won’t be successful, and we’d be sent home the first week. It’s not even worth the trouble.”
“Is he an ex?” Gam asked tentatively.
“What? No! I would never!” I shuddered, grimacing at the thought.
“Well, what beef do you have with a handsome specimen of a man that has you losing your manners?” Gam asked, genuinely confused.
Though, honestly, if Travis’ arrogance and self-important nature weren’t so overpowering, he would have undoubtedly been an ex, if not the current man of my nightly fantasies. He was tall…maybe six-two to my five-four, the color of caramelized brown sugar. In high school, he was clean cut, with a neatly tapered fade and no facial hair, but the man on my doorstep possessed those same deep-set, expressive brown eyes that drew me to him back in the day, paired with a lush beard that looked ripe for the settling of fingertips…or other body parts.
“Do you remember the boy in high school I couldn’t stand? The one from Mrs. Longfellow’s home ec class?”
“Little girl, you mean to tell me that you’re holding a grudge from some kiddie kiddie nonsense that happened over ten years ago?” Gam tsked, “I knew you had some of my stubbornness, but I’d underestimated how much of your paternal lineage’s stupidity that you’d also inherited.”
“Gam, are you calling me stupid?” I gasped, shocked.
“No baby, your actions are stupid, but the jury is still out on you thus far unless you fix your face, go back out there, apologize for your rudeness, and act like you’ve got some sense going forward,” Gam said, walking out of my room and mumbling about me holding silly childhood grudges.
It wasn’t childish, and I wasn’t overreacting. Ok…maybe I was slightly overreacting, but honestly, some of my worst memories of high school—not that there were many—were associated with Travis Coleman. I’d be damned if I allowed him to create even more in
my adulthood. If making sure my family’s business would remain stable in years going forward was hinged on pairing up with Travis, I’d just have to find a different route because this just wouldn’t work for me. Just as I was getting ready to head back toward the front of my place to inform everybody of my decision, a soft knock sounded at my door before a slightly familiar face peeked her head in.
“Isobel? I don’t know if you remember me,” she started, and as soon as I heard that slightly raspy tone, it clicked with me exactly who I was looking at.
“Tesha Spires! Girl I haven’t seen you in forever, you workin’ for Savor now?” I asked, waving her into the room, “Look, girl, I’m sorry I wasted y’alls time, but I don’t know if I’m going to be able to do this with Travis, honestly. We have…a little history.”
“Um…you remember TC is my cousin, right?” Tesha replied with her signature smirk, “I’m actually back here on his behalf…”
“Shit,” I cursed lowly as Tesha’s smirk turned into a laugh.
“Girl I’ve been on both sides of this. It wasn’t exactly easy to get him to agree to compete with you either, Isobel.”
“What reason would he have not to want to compete with me?” I asked, aghast.
“Oh, you thought y’alls little feud was one-sided? Nah, girl. He couldn’t stand you as much as you couldn’t stand him, no matter how hard he tried to remain unaffected. Me and my aunt definitely got an earful every time y’all clashed. But Isobel…you can’t deny that the two of you together made magic back in the day. Y’all are gonna kill on Bake Off,” Tesha gushed, “And um…a little birdie shared me with the reason you need to win this money, and I just wanna tell you that if you’re looking for anyone to be on your team when the odds are stacking against you, it would be Travie. They didn’t call him The Clutch for nothing in his NFL days.”
“Look, Tesha, I appreciate your little rah rah speech on behalf of your fam, but…”
She shook her head, “Whatever you got to say, can it. Let me be level with you for a second. Not that you owe me anything—because you don’t, but do you remember Deandre Walters?”