“Maybe the third time’s the charm.” Liza grinned, then moved on to Maia’s workstation, Ava watching her go.
Regan followed Liza with her eyes, noticing her smug smile as she thought how unhelpful she’d been to Ava. She didn’t want to have sympathy for her, but she couldn’t help herself. Wasn’t this a retreat? Weren’t they there to learn from Liza? From what Regan had seen, Liza had been wholly unhelpful, and when she glanced over at Ava, her eyes were wet. In front of her, Vienna cleared her throat to get Regan’s attention. She’d been watching, too, and her expression said she was as angered as Regan about what she’d just seen. She met Regan’s gaze, shook her head, and turned back to her own pie.
Madison’s workstation was behind Regan’s, and she heard hercough. When she glanced back, Madison was looking at her with wide eyes. “That wascold,” she whispered, and Regan nodded her agreement.
At the stove, Hadley was stirring the rhubarb, cooking it down so they could add it to the strawberries, and her eyes also followed Liza as she moved from station to station. Her expression was hard to read, but Regan was glad she wasn’t the only one who’d noticed the whole exchange.
Over the next couple hours, Regan and Hadley put together three pies. Vienna did four. Madison and Paige each had two, though Paige had also struggled and had to restart one of hers. Maia did four. While Regan was pulling her triple berry out of the oven, Ava was just flopping her raw pie crust onto a pie plate, heart-wrenchingly behind the others. Her face was still red, and her forehead glistened with what was likely nervous perspiration. Becca, her assistant, had spent some time trying to get conversation flowing but had given up nearly an hour ago and instead was running all over the place, clearly doing her best to be helpful. Ava’s was the most silent station in the space.
She made two pies. Becca must have been in charge of fillings, as every time Regan had hazarded a glance, Ava was working on crust. Becca filled the two pie crusts, and Ava slid them into the oven, looking so relieved, Regan wouldn’t have been at all surprised to see her fall right down on the floor, a heap of exhausted muscle and bone.
Liza had spent the time wandering, offering pointers (to some), and judging. Regan had hoped she would make pies along with them so she could see her technique up close, but that didn’t happen this time. She merely wandered, watched, snarked.
“I think these are gonna be delicious,” Hadley said to her, clearly keeping her voice down a bit, probably to keep Ava from feeling bad.
“Triple berry has always been my favorite,” Regan said, scrutinizing the surface of theirs. She’d used a crumble topping to give it more texture, and the oats had browned nicely. “I can’t wait to have a piece.”
“Same,” Hadley said with a grin. “And have the others taste it. It’s one of the things I like most about baking: the sharing.”
“Yeah? Me too. It’s a big part of why I started baking in the first place. I grew up in a pretty busy household.” She smiled as she thought about her family. “I have a little brother and a little sister, plus my parents and my grandpa, all in the same house. So every time I bakedsomething, I had lots of people to taste-test. And then when I got good at it, they would fight over who got to taste-test.”
“Aw, that’s so sweet,” Hadley said.
Across the aisle, Ava was finally pulling her pies out. Regan hadn’t been able to see what kinds they were going in, but coming out, at least one was cherry. She could tell by the latticework on top—and she found herself surprised that after all the redos and stress, Ava had taken the time to do a latticework on top of one of them. Good for her.
Liza had left them while their pies baked, but now was back, standing at the front of the room in front of her own station. “I trust all pies are now out of the oven?” Her eyes were laser-focused on Ava, who simply nodded and kept her chin up.
Jesus, Liza was all over her today. What the hell was that about?
* * *
Ava felt sick.
Like, she seriously might throw up. Her stomach churned, and she had a sour taste in her throat, and if Liza singled her and her failure out one more time, she was going to hurl. There was not a doubt in her mind.
She wasn’t sure why she was surprised at the intensity. She’d watched Liza Bennett-Schmidt on television for years, and whether Liza was cooking herself for an audience or had someone to teach on her show, she pulled no punches. She was rarely gentle. She was often critical. She tended to zero in on one person and they became her focus. Today, it was obviously Ava. A little bit of Paige, who also struggled with her crust, but mostly Ava. But this was aretreat. The point was to learn from her, right? Maybe she missed torturing folks on TV.
Of course it would be pie. Ava never could make a decent pie crust, as she’d told Becca. And Paige. There was some kind of disconnect in her brain or something, because she had never been able to get it right. And to answer Liza’s snarky question: No, they did not serve pie in her five-star restaurant. Because Ava was the one who made the dessert menu. So there.
Painfully aware of the subtle peeks and quick looks sent her way by her fellow retreat attendees, she kept her head up and did her best to stay busy, washing dishes, putting things away, wiping down thecounter. Five times. Possibly six. Becca had already done so. In fact, she’d been a godsend, doing any little thing Ava asked of her. Thank God she’d been there.
The rest of the day went as expected. Liza tasted everybody’s pie, left Ava’s for last, and was less than impressed. Then the remaining pies were taken up to be served after dinner.
Funnily enough, people seemed to like her pies. At first, she assumed their compliments were out of pity, but when she tasted her own cherry pie, she was surprised to find it was damn good. Even the crust. Huh.
Of course, after dinner and conversation—during which she listened more than participated—everybody was exhausted from the day and headed up to their rooms.
That meant alone time with Regan. In any other circumstance, there would be more dread, but she was so flat outdonewith the day that she didn’t even have the energy to care. She headed upstairs, into their room, and flopped face-first onto her bed.
“Rough day,” Regan commented as she came in behind her and shut the door.
Ava groaned into the blankets without lifting her head.
“Listen, Liza was a bitch to you. That was totally uncalled for.”
Ava turned her head to look at her roommate.
“We couldn’t say anything during dinner because, you know, May’s and other sets of ears were around. But we did some texting and whispering when you were baking your pies. She was awful to you. Unnecessarily awful. Everybody thought it was totally not cool.” Regan held her gaze for a moment before lifting one shoulder and adding, “I’m sorry you had to deal with that today.”
