Chapter 10
Emma
They Built a Fortress
After a couple doses of the medicine that the doctor prescribed, and some much needed rest, I’m feeling much better. If Joey hadn’t insisted on taking me to urgent care, I’d probably still be feeling like death warmed over.
According to Joey, Blake helped the kids build the gingerbread house while we were at the doctor. I asked Joey to text me a photo after he saw the house, but I haven’t received anything. Is that a good or a bad sign?
I head over to the bakery around nine, much later than usual. It’s so nice to be able to rely on someone else to open the shop and do the early baking duties. Blake has been a Godsend. I need to thank him profusely, maybe even give him a raise.
The kitchen smells divine, plus it’s warm and toasty. I do a quick scan of the countertops. My heart sinks when there’s no sign of the gingerbread house. Did it collapse or fall apart?
Blake pops in from the front of the shop, whistling while carrying an empty tray. His feet skid to a stop when he sees me. A stunned expression fills his face. “Em! Are you feeling better?”
“A little. The medicine really helped.”
He smiles. “I’m so glad! Joey was determined to take you to the doctor. When that guy makes up his mind, he’s like a one-man wrecking crew.”
Maybe that’s why we always butt heads—often. We’re both stubborn.
My heart rate accelerates as I recall Joey carrying me to his car, into the urgent care facility, and staying with me the whole time. He went out of his way to pick up my medicine when he drove me home. He even tucked me into bed when we got to my house. Despite being ill, it was all rather swoony and romantic. My knight in shining armor.
Pulling myself from these dreamy thoughts about Joey, I ask Blake my burning question, “Where’s the gingerbread house?”
Blake shifts back and forth on the balls of his feet before replying, “No judgement. I had an inexperienced crew, plus we had a terrible time getting the pieces to stick together. We used lots of icing—possibly too much.” An embarrassed look covers his face. “It’s in the break room.”
Oh no! I school my expression and brace myself for a disaster as I follow Blake into the room.
Blake clicks on the light switch, and I stare at the creation sitting in the middle of the café table. He’s correct about the overuse of icing, there are thick slabs of icing running vertically between every piece of gingerbread. It reminds me of a military-grade bunker. Blake could sit on it, and it wouldn’t collapse. This house could withstand an apocalypse. It overshadows Katie’s cute little fairy house, at least that one has much less icing.
“Well?” Blake asks with a look of nervous anticipation on his face. “Sturdy, right?”
“It’s definitely that. We won’t have to worry about this house falling apart!” I enthuse positivity in my voice. “Is this the first gingerbread house you’ve built?”
He grins and his chest swells with pride. “It is!”
Walking around the table, I survey the house from every angle. It’s a good start, just a little rough around the edges. My mind starts formulating a plan for building the real house, so it doesn’t look like a rugged bunker.
Turning to the master builder, I say, “Nice job!”
“Thanks, Em. I was worried it was, er, um...”
“Like a fortress?” I bite my lip after the words slip out, wishing I had been a little more tactful.
A laugh rumbles from his chest. “Yep. A military person might call it a blockhouse.”
I sputter a laugh, happy that I didn’t insult him with my comment. “No worries. Were the pieces too thick and that’s why you needed to use all this icing to keep them together?”
A guilty expression lights his eyes. “I initially tried a narrow strip of icing on each piece, but when I put them together, they instantly fell apart. It was a struggle. Then Scott suggested we use more icing.” He shrugs. No wonder the creation looks like a fortress with two guys building it. Scott and Blake took the concept of “sturdy” to a whole new level.
Chuckling that the two males thought the solution was to use an overabundance of icing, I turn to Blake. “I’ll go back to the drawing board and roll out thinner pieces. We’ll try to build another house next week.” The Stars play on Friday and Saturday night, which only leaves us a couple nights next week to build the real house.
As Blake turns to leave, I pat him on the back. “Thank you, Blake! I appreciate all your help with this project.” I hope he hears genuine gratitude in my voice because I’m truly being sincere. It was best to find out now that the pieces were too thick and too unwieldy than to find out when we’re trying to build the real thing. Smiling, he trots off. I quickly swipe my phone from my pocket.
Me: Have you seen the test house?
Joey: You’re supposed to be in bed! (frowny face emoji)
Me: That medication worked! Thank you for taking me to urgent care
I need to thank him properly. Maybe bake him some sweet treats? Or give him another kiss? (When I’m no longer contagious)
Joey: (thumbs up emoji)
Joey: Yes, I’ve seen the fort (wincing emoji)
I burst out laughing as I type my response. No wonder he didn’t text me a photo last night!
Me: You mean the fortress? (laughing emoji)
Joey: Or you might call it a Citadel. . . a Bastion. . . a Garrison. . .
Me: Stop trying to impress me with your use of the thesaurus
Joey: (flexed biceps emoji)
Giggling, I repeat my original question.
Me: When can you bring the kids over for a re-do?
Joey: Let me check.
There’s a long pause—he must be consulting his calendar. Between school, hockey practice, and games, he’s a busy guy.
Joey: I can bring them by after practice next Thursday. Does that work?
My heart drops wondering whether I’ll see him again between now and then. At the same time, a twinge of anxiety hits knowing the contest is on Saturday. That’s cutting it a bit close.
Me: OK. See you then.
This gives me time to draw up a new design plan, experiment with gingerbread thickness, and different icing recipes. Maybe the icing consistency wasn’t right either. I’m already imagining snow (aka icing) dripping from the roof...Windows made from peppermint candies...A gumdrop front door...Some marzipan evergreen trees in snowbanks on each corner...
I can fix this!
If we don’t build another fortress, we’ll have a real shot at winning the contest.