Chapter 7 #2
Ava’s heart pinched. What would it be like to have family where good-natured teasing was part of the fabric of the relationship?
Another man and woman joined their circle. Ava recognized her Realtor, Mia, but didn’t know the tall blond man with her. Mia introduced him as Cody, her fiancé.
“Mia, are you nervous?” Eliza asked.
“Who, me?” Mia’s laugh sounded a little high, but Ava didn’t know her that well. “I’m only getting married next week—what do I have to be nervous about?”
The group laughed.
Mia put her arm around Cody’s waist. “Seriously, though, I think I’m the luckiest girl in the world. I have two beautiful children, and now I get to marry my best friend.”
Cody dropped a kiss on top of her head. “I’m the lucky one.”
“Mia, I didn’t know you were getting married,” Ava said. “You should be concentrating on that, not on my silly housing needs.”
Mia waved her worry away. “I’ve already taken care of most of my plans. Now it’s just the waiting, and I’d rather stay busy.”
“I told her I’d marry her any day and time. No need for any plans,” Cody said with a cheeky grin. “But she insisted that we do things a more traditional way.”
Mia gave him a little shove. “They’re not even that extravagant.
I just want my family around me and to honor our love and commitment to each other.
” They smiled into each other’s eyes for a moment.
Then Mia turned back to Ava, spearing her with a look.
“Besides, your needs are not silly. They’re valid and you deserve to have them met. ”
Oh. Ava blinked back tears.
“Plus, we could use the money to pay for our honeymoon.” Cody’s quip set off another round of laughter in the group.
“Have you finished your letter yet?” Mia straightened away from Cody. “It’s really important that we get that in as soon as possible.”
Gulp. She really needed to get that letter finished. “I’ll get that to you ASAP.” A buzzer rang out from the cooking pavilion. Ava smiled around the group. “I think that’s my signal to head back. It was nice to meet you all.”
If she could help Zach win the money for his charity, finish an article that satisfied Judson’s demands, and write a letter that secured her a home here, her life would truly begin.
So. No pressure there.
If he could win the dessert section of the competition today and the other contestants failed miserably, Zach still might have a chance to take the whole thing.
Sure, his appetizer yesterday had flopped.
Big time. But he’d taken first in the entrée competition.
And he was determined to finish in first again with this dessert.
He glanced around the competition pavilion for the space of the beat of a whisk.
Across from him, it appeared Kim Beebe from Trixie’s was building a napoleon out of ladyfingers and a cream of some sort.
He flicked his gaze to the side. The chef from Fiesta was mixing something in a bowl.
Flour flew everywhere. The crowd around Val Anderson’s table laughed.
He tried to spot Ava in one of his quick looks, but her blonde head remained elusive.
Eyes on the prize, buddy.
Sure, it was a good idea to remind himself to stay focused. To not think about Ava and her plea to work together. To tamp down the conflicting emotions he felt at hearing his dad say I’m proud of you. Much harder to do.
“What are you preparing, chef?” A woman’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. A glance over his shoulder revealed Lily Hart and Declan Kelley.
“Lily!” He paused and turned to them. “Declan, good to see you.”
Lily stood with her arm looped through Declan’s.
Her pale blonde head, with its purple streaks framing her face, only came to Declan’s shoulder.
Dani had mentioned last summer that the two old friends had become enemies for a brief time, only to team up to save the fudge shop on island.
He’d also heard that they’d gotten married in January.
“I’m working on a sabayon to go with a peach tart.” Check that, he was attempting to work on his sabayon. The mixture needed constant attention to fluff correctly.
“Sabayon, that’s the sauce with champagne and sugar, right?” Lily said.
“Yep.” Zach nodded once. “I saw your ice cream truck. I’ll have to wander over for a scoop later.”
“Maybe you can celebrate a win,” Declan said.
“Here’s hoping.” Zach measured out the sugar he would need. “How is the fudge business?”
“Now that we’re on the same team, it’s going well. We’re having a tasting later this week. I’ll be showcasing my caramel bergamot fudge.” Lily looked up at Declan with glowing eyes. “Stop by the shop while you’re in town. We’ve got some new product. Maybe you can give us some ideas too.”
“I’d love to.” A timer chimed on his phone. “Excuse me. I’ve got to—” He gestured to his ingredients.
“Of course.” Declan clapped his shoulder. “See you around.”
Zach turned back to crack some eggs for his sauce. He mixed the eggs with sugar and then rested the bowl on top of a pan of boiling water on the stove. Whisking constantly, he added the champagne in a slow stream.
“Zach!” He stifled a groan as he turned to see Pastor Arnie Chamberlain standing on the other side of his workstation, hand extended. The red-haired, fifty-five-year-old pastor had been on the island for a long time. He’d officiated at Dani’s wedding.
“Pastor.” He rested his whisk against the inside of the bowl long enough to pump the man’s hand once. “Sorry. This is delicate. Come around.”
“Congrats on taking first place in the entrée round. I saw you yesterday too, and today was a nice recovery.” Pastor Arnie shifted until he was in Zach’s eyeline but still off to the side in the cooking space.
“Thank you.” Zach lowered the temp on his burner.
Too hot and the eggs would cook too quickly.
“I always like almond-crusted walleye. I thought it had a nice nod to local flavor, and I’m glad the judges approved.
” He gave his sabayon another twenty strokes and took it off the heat.
Dipping a clean spoon into the sauce, he gave it a taste.
Sweet, creamy, with a hint of the champagne’s bite.
He dipped a second spoon and handed it to Pastor Arnie.
“This is amazing.” Pastor Arnie’s eyes opened wide. “With food like this, you’re a shoo-in for the top spot.”
Zach’s chest grew lighter. “Thanks. Cooking always feels like a balance between confidence in my skills and terror that no one will like what I’ve made.” At least this sabayon hadn’t turned green or blue.
“Excuse me.” He reached around Pastor Arnie for the plastic wrap, tore off a sheet, and laid it over the top of the mixture. A few minutes in the blast chiller would cool it enough to add the whipped cream.
“Sorry. I should get out of your hair.” Pastor Arnie clapped him on the shoulder. “It’s good to see you at home here. I know Dani was excited so many of her siblings would be here for this festival.”
Zach flashed him a smile as the timer for his fruit tart buzzed behind him. As he opened the door on the tiny oven, the scent of warm peaches, cinnamon, caramel, and a hint of browned butter washed over him.
The crust of the tart, though alarmingly puffy, was a beautiful brown, and the peaches bubbled at the edges. Perfection.
We’ll play for the Silver Platter. They sound like a really worthy cause. Ava’s words from earlier in the day walked through his mind. Double the designations for the Silver Platter meant double the amount they would receive.
That settled it. He couldn’t pass up a chance to offer other young people the opportunity to study the art of food. He would tell Ava and Dani that he was all in.
The warmth of the tart seeped through the oven mitts as he brought the confection out of the oven.
“Zach.”
As he turned to the voice, someone jostled his arm. The tart slid from his fingers. Hot juice spilled on his wrist, and he dropped the whole thing. Molten peach lava spread all over a pair of tennis shoes. His gaze traveled up. Ava’s shoes.
“Zach.” She put her hand over her mouth, gray eyes wide. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” She shook one foot out and then the other. “I can’t believe I made you ruin your dessert. Ow. That’s really hot.” Her eyes turned red.
Zach’s heart squeezed. “Here.” He tossed her a towel. “Are you hurt?” He rubbed at the stinging red burn on his own arm.
She bent and wiped at the sticky mess. “No. I’m fine.” She sniffed. “I’m just sorry for your pie.”
“Tart.”
She stood abruptly. “I’m sorry?”
“It wasn’t a pie. It was a tart.” Zach wanted the words back the second they left his mouth. She was hurt, for crying out loud. Now wasn’t the time to correct her food knowledge.
“Tart, then.” Her voice was neutral as she gave one last swipe at her shoes, but it was a losing battle. She grimaced and put the towel on the edge of his table near a pile of dirty dishes. She ran a hand over her eyes. “I feel terrible. How can I help make it up to you?”
“You actually didn’t ruin anything.” A buzzer sounded on his watch. “I made a second one. That’s the timer now.” He opened the oven door and found the second tart looking as delicious as the first.
Behind him, Ava hiccuped. He ignored her as he cradled the tart all the way to the plating station.
He might need to cut the pieces a little smaller than planned, but he should still be able to salvage his dessert.
Good thing he’d had the extra ingredients and the foresight to do something with them.
Ava hiccuped again.
He checked his watch. A few minutes before he had to mix the cream into the sabayon. The tart would need to cool anyway. He located another clean towel.
“I’m sorry about your shoes.” He dipped the towel in a washbowl and bent down to wipe away more of the sticky residue. “I hope they weren’t your favorites.”