“Okay, folks. Here we go. Count down with me,” the announcer called. “Five, four, three, two, one! That’s it. Hands up, contestants. The baking portion of the Thanksgiving Throwdown is officially complete. Let’s give them all a round of applause!”
Mia gave me a high five over the table. “You were amazing!”
“Well done,” Charles said, leaning over to kiss my cheek. “Incredible work.”
The wait now was excruciating. I was the last baker in line for judging, which meant I could only stand there and obsess over all the things I would have done differently. I watched as each contestant in turn demonstrated their incredible ingenuity. There was a rotating carousel and a pop-up jack in the box. Plenty of lights and even confetti poppers. Until finally, it was my turn.
Three judges stepped up to my table. While they scribbled initial impressions on their notecards, I plated their desserts.
“Alright, judges. Last but definitely not least, is contestant number ten, Eleanor Evans. Her entry, as you can see, is a scale model of Maplewood Creek’s Main Street, complete with ice rink, Christmas tree, and the focal point, The Snowdrift Inn. Her tasting element is a gingerbread cheesecake. Now, go ahead and show us your special element,” the announcer told me.
Every entry included some kind of surprise. Something that moved or lit up. I’d agonized for days about how I would make this design special. I only hoped I hadn’t missed the mark.
First, I flipped the switch to a tiny motor that made the blades of the helicopter spin, giving the impression that it was flying overhead.
“That’s a nice touch,” one judge commented to herself.
But that wasn’t the real trick.
The audience gasped and applauded as my entire Snowdrift Inn opened up to reveal a fully rendered interior like an old Victorian dollhouse. Complete with furniture, guests, Pops behind the front desk, and the twins hanging decorations. Maybe mine didn’t explode or shoot lasers, but it was beautiful, and a hell of a lot of work.
“That is remarkably accurate,” another judge marveled. “I was just there a few days ago. You even got the umbrellas by the door.”
Finally, I handed each judge their gingerbread cheesecake. I thought I saw a few smiles and nods, but I couldn’t be sure their reactions weren’t just polite enthusiasm. They sampled my gingerbread rum ball snowmen and gingerbread brownie cars while I obsessed over their every hum or shared glance.
“Judges, do you have everything you need?” the announcer asked. “Alright, I think that’s a yes. And so, we’ll be right back once the judges have had a chance to deliberate. And please, remember to come up and drop in your vote for audience favorite as well.”
“You did it, Elle!” Mia shouted. “I know you won. They loved it.”
“Don’t jinx it,” I said, collapsing to sit on top of the large cooler. I could barely feel my feet anymore. “Hey, whatever happened to Bea and Delilah? Has anyone heard from them?”
I watched Mia and Charles reach for their phones to check, and saw both of their faces fall, a grim darkness overwhelming their expressions.
“What?” I said, anxiety rising in my gut. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s a message from Bea. Pops had an accident. He’s in the emergency room.”
Chapter 24
We all left the contest immediately, without waiting to hear the result. Mia went straight to The Snowdrift. Someone had to cover for the twins so they could stay with Pops, and she was the only one who knew what to do. I rode with Charles to the hospital, where we found the sisters pacing among the chairs in theERwaiting room.
“Charlie!” Bea called. “Over here.”
“What happened?” Charles asked when we approached them.
“He was on that damn ladder again,” Delilah told us. “I told him a hundred times.”
“We were in the dining room when we heard a loud thud,” Bea said. “We ran outside to the porch, and found him lying at the bottom of the stairs.”
“How bad is it?” I asked, imagining that fall on icy steps.
“Not sure yet. The doctor hasn’t come out to talk to us,” Bea said.
“Pops of course said he didn’t feel a thing, but I know he’s lying,” Delilah added. “Doesn’t want to scare us. His wrist was pretty swollen, and he wasn’t able to stand on his own when the ambulance got there. I just hope it isn’t his hip.”
“What can we do?” I offered. “Mia went to the inn to take care of the guests. Can I bring you some coffee? Snacks?”
“I am sort of starving,” Bea admitted tiredly.
