Fat Cat Takes The Cake

A conference ensued, with all five judges and the announcer huddled a safe distance away from Grace. While they talked, Grace appeared to be stifling more sneezes, a forefinger placed delicately to her nostrils, and groping in her purse with the other hand for more tissues.

Meanwhile, Anna had gotten all her ingredients into her bowl and started the mixer. She scraped the sides of the bowl as it turned and took quick glances to her left.

The judges still huddled, some gesturing, others shaking their heads.

Grace fumbled with her bin of flour, trying to scoop some into her bowl but slopping a lot of it onto the floor. Even from where Chase sat, her trembling hands were obvious.

Chase looked down the line at the other contestants. Grace would be easy to beat today, even if she wasn’t disqualified when the judges came to their decision. But were any of the others a threat?

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, at about 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.”