by Agatha Ball
Wanda raised her hand. Her blue spiky hair stuck out in the crowd. She was one of Granny's posse and her souvenir shop was one of the fixtures of Main Street. "Well, maybe we just need to hold regular festivals. Maybe it needs to be a monthly thing. Something that would draw people out more than once a year. Make us a regular place to go instead of just a place to go for special occasions."
"That's what I was saying!" agreed Johnny. "Cotton candy 24/7!"
A murmur of agreement for Wanda's suggestion, if not for Johnny's amendment, rippled through the room.
"Great suggestion!" Nate said, trying not to quell people's enthusiasm. "The problem is there isn't quite enough time to put together carnival rides and vendors before the end of the summer... Does anyone have ideas for something we could do this month? Or next month? Maybe something already happening that we could partner with and help promote?"
"Well, we have something going on," piped up a polite voice. We all turned around to see who it was.
It was a wispy girl named Sally. I recognized her from behind the reception counter at the Grand Hotel. "We had a group rent out our hotel for a bakeoff a few months ago. Maybe I could approach them about making it more public. Perhaps include some local talent?" She gave a meaningful glance to Granny.
What can I say? Granny's baking is legend around these parts.
"Did I hear someone say 'bakeoff'?" Madison squealed, clapping her slender hands. "Like that British show with that guy with the sexy eyes?"
"AND the funny women and the female master baker..." I muttered under my breath.
"I volunteer for the brownies!" Johnny announced, raising his hand.
Madison leaned toward the council and flashed a winning smile. "That's what I always liked about you, Nate. Always coming up with creative solutions." She then acted like a brilliant idea had just dawned on her. "You know, while you and I did not exactly get off on the right foot..."
Nate and I exchanged glances. She had tried to steal the entire island out from under Nate.
Madison continued. "I am very good at my job. I connect people. I know this person needs to know this person, and I introduce them. I start the party!" She placed her hand on her heart like a martyr. "And I would like to offer my services almost free of charge to promote this bakeoff and get it publicized so that someone actually shows up for it in four week's time."
Sally protested. "That's great, but I really should just double check with the organizers before we glom on."
"Wait... what?" Madison asked absentmindedly as she pulled out her pink phone and rapidly began texting. "And... sent."
"What did you just send?" Nate asked.
She put her phone back into her handbag. "Just let all my followers know 'hashtag Seaside Bakeoff is LIT. 21-day countdown commence!' is all."
"We're what?" asked Wanda. She leaned over to Marnie, who owned the yarn shop. "Lit? I thought that was still illegal."
"No!" Madison replied with a mock laugh like she totally understood why people were confused. "'Lit' is where something is really popular and sort of a social scene. I can see why you never heard of it before." Before Wanda could reply, Madison stood up. "Ladies and gentlemen, your viral campaign has begun."
Granny leaned over to Wanda. "No chance anyone's offering a vaccine, huh?"
Sally looked helplessly at Nate, but all he could do was shrug. The damage was done. So, Nate heaved a heavy sigh and threw up his hands. "Okay! Okay. If you want to create some sort of masterplan viral campaign, have at it."
"We'll talk compensation later," Madison said meaningfully.
"No need for backroom deals!" Granny shouted from the refreshment table. "We're all right here. How much do you want?"
"It won't be expensive!" she protested. She patted Trevor's knee. "We just want to be involved in the success of Seaside and this seems like the perfect opportunity. We'll submit a budget for your approval."
"So, Madison and Trevor will be doing some marketing for us. How about anyone else? Does anyone else have some ideas on how to make this event a success?" Nate asked, inviting the room to chime in.
The room began buzzing with excitement. Hands went up from the local business owners volunteering specials and things they could do to help with the event's success.
I know it was about the future of the island and with Madison involved it was probably going to get sabotaged, but selfishly, I was starting to get a little excited. A bakeoff. Visions of spun sugar clouds and caramel dipped hazelnuts filled my head.
I still wanted to apply for the Cordon Bleu in Paris someday. I wondered if I might be allowed to enter and, if so, how I might stack up. Did I have what it takes? Shoot, just to be able to meet other people who were doing what I wanted to do seemed like such an opportunity.
I looked up admiringly at Nate. Here he had just been trying to take care of the island. And instead, he may have provided me with the first step toward my dreams.
Chapter Three
I unloaded the empty coffee carafes into Bitter Beans and smiled.
Granny was practically dancing around the shop. She picked up Captain. He purred loudly as she nuzzled his fur. "Our Paige sure did pick a good one, didn't she Captain? We like this Nate. We like him a lot."
I laughed loudly.
She deposited Captain back on his cushion by the front door, but it was dark out, which meant his day was just getting started. He leaped off delicately to begin his evening patrol of the bookcases.
"This is exactly what this island needs, Paige!" Granny exclaimed. "And that boyfriend of yours is doing more for us than that Edward family ever did in the past. You hang onto him with both hands. I had a couple good catches that slipped out of my clutches. I mean, things ended up exactly as they were supposed to, but these good ones don't come around every day."
She grabbed the carafes and headed into the kitchen. I could hear the water running as she set them to soak.
I know she was just excited about things, but I had to admit, I was dreading the day I was going to have to make a decision between Seaside, Nate, and this dream I had. Things were never easy...
Captain suddenly dashed across the room. He found a loose button and batted it across the floor, causing me to laugh and brush aside those deeper thoughts.
Gotta just stay in the moment, like Captain, I thought.
Granny sashayed out of the kitchen her arms full of three-ring binders. She flipped on a few of the overhead lights, illuminating the shop in a soft, golden light of the hurricane chandeliers. She put down her load onto one of the worn maple tables. Captain streaked past again, his nightly crazies kicking in hard. She sat down and opened up the cover.
"What are you looking for?" I asked her as I watched her flip through.
She placed her hands lovingly on the pages. "I have a chocolate cake in here that will knock the socks off any of those mainland judges. It's a real prize winner. Launched my career as a baker. I've been so busy with food for the masses, I haven't made it for years. But this was the one that changed the course of my history. Come, help me look for it."
Captain mistakenly thought she was talking to him. He leaped up and decided we needed him to sit directly on the page she was reading.
"Not you," she said, picking him up and giving him a kiss on the head. She set him back down on the ground.
I grabbed one of the books. Inside were recipes, lovingly written out in the spidery penmanship of ancestors. "Where did you get all these?" I asked.
"My mother. Her mother before her. These are our family treasures," she informed me. "The way to a man's heart, the way to keep a family fed, the magic of the women in our family. Someday, they will be passed on down to you." She patted my hand. "We're in it to win it. Besides," she said, turning the pages and getting lost in the ingredients. "Bitter Beans needs this."
My mouth dried. "Needs it?"
She waved off my concerns. "We're fine. But I'm not as young as I used to be and, I have to admit, sometimes I wonder if it's worth digging out of a
nother financial hole.” She sighed. "Maybe it's time for me to retire."
I couldn't imagine my Granny without Bitter Beans. She had owned it since before I was born. It was like a part of her. But as we sat in the dim light, I realized that despite her impeccable style, she was getting older. And just as I dreamed of learning in Paris, maybe she had some dreams she wanted to explore, too.
She caught the shift in mood. "Don't worry your pretty head about it!" she insisted. "That day is still a long way off. Just things that you think about when you're faced with a tough time. Quitting would be the easy way out, and I'm no quitter. Especially if I could tout a blue ribbon cake chosen by judges as the best on or off the island!" Her face suddenly lit up and she pushed the book my way. "Here we go! This is the one!" She rested her chin on the palm of her hand. "This is our ticket to fame and fortune. Now, how about you?"
"How about me what?" I asked.
"What are you going to bake?"
I swallowed. She wanted this so badly. Did I really want to be in competition with my own grandmother?
"I was thinking maybe I would sit this one out," I informed her.
"Really?" she asked, suspiciously. "Two is better odds than one..."
"Did we learn nothing from Founder's Festival?" I asked. "Someone needs to mind the shop. The whole reason for this bakeoff is to help the local business and it certainly isn't going to help Bitter Beans if we don't take advantage of all the people who are going to be here." I shook my head. "Plus, if I lost? It might do irreparable damage to my reputation."
She laughed and closed her books. "You keep telling yourself that. I'm betting before the week is through, you'll find yourself having caught bakeoff fever."
Chapter Four
I hustled up the steps to the Grand Hotel, arms stacked with gift baskets for the judges. I have no idea how they pulled it off, but in the past three weeks, Madison had been true to her word. She totally hyped the bakeoff, and when she asked me to put together some welcome gifts, I wasn't even mad. I mean, sure, the island wasn't teeming with people yet, but there was a definite uptick and buzz of excitement as the contestants began to arrive.
Nate was over at the town hall getting set up for the opening reception. Madison had insisted that Trevor cater it. I'm not entirely sure how you cater hamburger and fries from a place that gets its flavor from not having cleaned out the grease trap since 1984, but that was his problem, not mine.
I stepped into the lobby and a young girl with curly, dark blonde hair was standing behind the counter. I had never met her before. She gave me a vapid smile.
"Welcome to the Grand Hotel," she said, cocking her head to the side with cheerleader-like perkiness.
"Oh.... Is Sally working today?" I asked.
"Oh. She doesn't work here anymore," stated the girl without a hint of emotion beyond her general enthusiasm. "I just started."
"Ah," I replied, shifting the heavy packages in my arms. "Well, welcome to Seaside. And speaking of welcome... I have some welcome baskets for the judges who will be arriving today. I was working with Sally on this. If you can get me their room numbers, I'll put them in there."
She tip-tapped on her computer for a moment. "I'm sorry. We have no reservations under the name 'Judge'."
"No," I clarified. "The judges."
She typed again and then gave a shake of her head. "No families under the name 'Judges', either. Are you sure you're at the right hotel?"
"No, the judges for the bakeoff. They're arriving on the morning ferry. They haven't checked in yet. I have welcome baskets for them."
She gave me a blink and a blank stare.
"I'm sorry, what's your name?" I asked, setting the baskets down on the counter, my arms about to give out.
"Oh, I'm Henrietta. And it is my pleasure to serve you today here at the Grand Hotel."
"Okay, Henrietta, you do know there is a bakeoff happening here and folks are arriving today, right?"
She gave me another disappointed shake of her head. "I'm so sorry. I'm afraid no one informed me of any events happening here today."
I sincerely hoped that this was just a case of bad communication and not that someone had royally messed up. I tried to keep my brain from melting down. "So, we've been working with Sally for the better part of the month to put this together. It is a bakeoff that is happening here, and all the judges and guests and the event itself will be here at the Grand Hotel."
She typed something else into the computer and gave me an apologetic wince. "I'm sorry. All of our rooms are booked for another event."
I took a great big breath when Johnny came skipping up the steps. "Hey, Paige! Nate said you might need a hand! And lucky for you, I have two." He held out both arms like some sort of a magician waiting for me to inspect his sleeves for hidden cards.
"Just trying to get these baskets up to the rooms of the judges," I informed him.
"Righteous!" he said, poking his nose at the cellophane. "They're probably going to award you a blue ribbon just for making their stay so awesome."
I turned back to Henrietta. "Can you just tell me where to take these?"
"I'm sorry, we don't give out private guest room information."
It was like trying to communicate with a brick wall. Just as my brain was about to go into nuclear meltdown, Johnny suddenly stepped forward.
"Yo! You're new!" he said. He scratched his head and flicked back his sundrenched blond curls like this was his favorite place to hang out and he was just making himself at home. I wasn't quite sure if he knew the effect he had on the ladies or if he was just being Johnny.
Henrietta blushed a deep crimson and cast her eyes down at her desk. "My first week," she admitted, suddenly shy.
Johnny folded up his elbows and leaned forward on the counter. "DUDE! We should totally go out and celebrate. Listen, we got this thingie happening here. Hook us up with their room digits. Otherwise, we gotta leave it with your people and your people are gonna have to talk to our people and stop what they're doing to haul all this stuff all over the place. We're cutting through the middle man, that's what we do!" he said, sliding his fingertips swiftly along his palm like pushing off dust.
"That's a really smart idea!"
"Yeah. They're, like, here for the event thingie."
"OH! THEY'RE with the event! It's a BAKEOFF. All those ovens make sense now! I thought it was some sort of wacky wedding reception," she said. She then tapped some more on the computer. "I'll get your keys."
I looked at Johnny as she disappeared into the back. "How did you do that?"
"Just explained the sitch."
Whatever situation he just explained was beyond me, but I was impressed. "Johnny, you are my hero."
He doffed an imaginary hat and swept into a bow. "At your service, milady."
"Well, grab a basket and let's get to servicing these rooms."
He jogged over to the bellboy's cart and surfed it back to me. Then, he loaded it up with the baskets as Henrietta returned.
"Okay, here are the numbers," she said as she wrote on the paper sleeves. "Just make sure to return the cards to me, because I'm not sure if I'm supposed to actually give you the room keys, but it really does help not having to leave the desk to do it. We're short staffed and I want to make sure I'm here to provide service with a smile." She then gave Johnny an extra special grin.
She practically swooned as Johnny gave her a friendly wave. "Trevor's Saloon tonight! We're celebrating!"
The Grand Hotel is not a huge place. After all, we're a pretty small island. But it is a lovely historical site: all original crown molding, parquet floors, and lovely oil paintings hanging in the hallway done by some artist who once made the island his home. I made a mental note to find out more about who that person was.
We rode up the elevator and drove the cart to the rooms. We hit the first two with no drama, but as we were placing the third basket in the room, I heard the door click and open.
A tall woman with high cheekbones and
coiffed hair gave a shriek as she saw us.
"No! No! It's okay!" I tried to explain.
"The front desk told me this was my room. I apologize. That twit even gave me a key," she replied, clutching her high collar with a boney hand.
"No, this is your room!" I informed her. Johnny gave her a little finger wave.
Her narrow eyes narrowed. "I'm sorry. And what are you doing in my room?"
"Oh! My name is Paige. I work at Bitter Beans coffee shop. I'm on the welcoming committee and just dropping off a welcome basket. Um... welcome to Seaside!" I offered lamely as I motioned to the gift. She seemed like she was about to tell me where I could drop off my basket, so I pointed at my friend. "And this is Johnny. He is one of the founders of Seaside."
Her jaw fell open, showing off her crowded teeth. "Him? You're telling me he's one of the founding family members of this island?"
He gave her little finger guns. "Guilty as charged."
She regarded him with disbelief, but finally decided it wasn't worth it to argue. "Eccentricity runs in the best of families, I suppose," she said. "I'm exhausted. If you'll excuse me." She turned to pick up her bag and bring it into the room.
"Wait! Let me get that for you, fair guest to our noble island," Johnny said.
He leaped over like a gazelle and picked up the bag in his arms like a baby. I didn't have the heart to tell him that there were wheels and he could have just rolled it in.
She looked vaguely horrified as she shrank into the room.
"We'll just be going," I said. "Ms...?"
"Ms. Shelia Price." She peered into the basket. "I suppose these items are all locally sourced, farm-to-table, and organic?"
"Made most of it with my own two hands," I replied.
She gave me a good look up and down. I made a note to check the trash tomorrow to see if she chucked the whole thing without opening it.
"We really should be going," I said, awkwardly. "But swing by Bitter Beans bookshop anytime you need a great cup of coffee."
She sniffed at the in-room coffee maker, picking up the foil packet with the cheap, single-use, coffee-and-filter combo inside. "Yes. Perhaps I'll do that. Bitter Beans, you said?"