Chapter 15
Emma
Rules? What Rules?
It’s the day we’ve been waiting for! Today is the gingerbread house contest and I’m on pins and needles. Will our entry be competitive? Do we have a shot at winning?
Joey and the kids are meeting me at the school where the contest is being held, so Blake helps load the gingerbread house into my vehicle.
“Be careful! We don’t want to damage our creation before we get it to the contest,” I joke. I’ve already loaded up the car with a frosting bag filled with icing, extra candies, more of the marzipan trees, and backup fairy and hockey sticks, just in case I need to do any repairs at the venue.
Blake chuckles. “I doubt this house is going to fall apart. After six attempts, surely, we got it right!”
Over the last few days, we’ve both laughed, cried, and wanted to pull our hair out trying to get the balance of gingerbread thickness and icing density just right. I’m thankful that he helped me every step of the way.
“You worked your magic. The house looks like a Swiss chalet, just like you said it would.” Blake closes the tailgate. “Text me the minute you know the results!”
I chuckle at his unbridled enthusiasm. “You’ll be the first to know.” I hop into the driver’s seat and drive cautiously across town, pondering the last two weeks. Joey became my boyfriend, I became attached to two cute kids, and I made a lifetime’s worth of gingerbread. I didn’t see any of those things coming.
The parking lot is packed when I arrive at the school. This contest is more popular than I thought. I text Joey to let him know I’m here so he can come over to help me unload the house. A few minutes later, I spot the trio making their way across the lot. Katie skips beside Joey while Scott trails behind. Is he getting cold feet? I thought Scott was pleased with the design, but the kid always sports a poker face. Maybe he hates the Swiss chalet vibe.
“Is my fairy still on the roof?” Katie chirps as she skips up to me.
“We’ll double check to make sure it didn’t fall off during the ride over,” I assure her. Katie would be devastated if a fairy isn’t perched on the house for the judges to see.
Joey squeezes my arm and gives me a flirty wink. “Ready for the contest?” He reaches in and slides the cardboard base holding our entry towards him. He lifts the house while emitting an exaggerated groan. “Ugh! This thing weighs a ton!” Everyone laughs except for Scott.
We enter the school and walk towards the cafeteria where the judging will take place. I hang back to talk to the subdued boy. He’s the reason we’re here, so I thought he would be more enthusiastic.
“Aren’t you excited about the contest?”
He shrugs, his usual neutral expression firmly in place.
“I think we have a good chance to get one of the top spots,” I rattle on. They’re giving ribbons and gift certificates for first, second, and third place. Since I haven’t seen any of the other entries yet, maybe I’m overconfident. Scott continues to remain silent as I rack my brain for a way to get him to open up. We walk without speaking until we’re almost to the cafeteria. Laughter and conversations swirl around us.
“I don’t want you or Uncle Joey to be disappointed if we don’t win first place,” he mutters several seconds later.
“Oh, my goodness! We won’t be disappointed.” Have Joey and I been too competitive, not even considering Scott’s fragile emotions? The kid takes everything so seriously. I gently put my hand on his shoulder, stopping our progress while Joey and Katie disappear inside the cafeteria. “Scott, I hope you know that we did this so you and Katie would have the experience of building a gingerbread house. We didn’t do this just to win the contest.” Although I do still want to win.
He blinks up at me. “But all you and Uncle Joey talk about is winning.”
Oops! I guess we overdid it by teasing each other about building a winning entry. “I’m sorry we gave you the wrong impression. I had the best time coming up with the design and watching you help decorate it. You had fun, too. Right?”
A small smile finally breaks through his cloudy expression. “Blake was so funny when we were trying to get the sides to stick together on the first house.” He giggles. “It kept falling apart, so Blake added tons of icing. He even had to make more because we ran out!”
I’m a little surprised because I didn’t know that little factoid. I’m definitely going to have to tease Blake about this. “See, that was fun! And you and your uncle added that fabulous front door to this house.”
He nods, his eyes shining with excitement. “That was fun, too!” He leans towards me and whispers, “Uncle Joey had to fix all of Katie’s gumdrops, but don’t tell her that.”
I give him a pat on his back. “That will be our little secret.” Nodding towards the doorway, I ask, “Are you ready to see all the entries?”
“Yes! Let’s go kick some butt!” the small boy shouts. Joey and my competitive spirit has finally rubbed off on him.
~*~
Our entry stands out in the sea of gingerbread houses. Ours is bigger, prettier, and more creative. My competitive heart flares to life with anticipation. I’m probably biased, but I think ours could be the winning house. Obviously, I don’t share my thoughts with the little boy walking beside me.
Joey waves Scott and me over to our entry sitting on one of the tables. “Everything okay?” he whispers to me while Katie and Scott chatter about the other houses.
“Yes. We gave Scott the wrong impression about winning the contest. He was afraid we’d be disappointed in him if we don’t win the top prize.”
He blows out a loud breath. “That’s my fault. I talked about winning too much.”
“Both of us might be a tad bit too competitive,” I add with a smirk.
“You think?”
I shove Joey with my shoulder and we both laugh. “Shall we walk around and take a closer look at all the other entries?”
“Come on kids,” Joey says, motioning with his hand for them to follow us.
We take our time wandering down each aisle. I’m surprised by the number of entries, there must be twenty-five of them. There’s a plethora of shapes and sizes. Some are lopsided. A few took the concept of adding candies to the extreme. And one house toppled over, leaving a pile of gingerbread and a few gumdrops. Maybe Blake needs to advise them on the overuse of icing?
There are only two houses that I think are our biggest competition. One is a Victorian mansion and the other a farm scene with a gingerbread barn. Both are well done, with the right balance of icing and candies.
“Isn’t that cheating?” Joey whispers as he points to a house that looks like it’s made from graham crackers.
“You tell me. Did the rules say the house had to be made of gingerbread?”
“I never read the rules. I thought you did.”
“What! Josef Svenson, you mean we might have an illegal entry?” I squeak.
“Chill, Em. What judge is going to disqualify the biggest and baddest house in the bunch?”
I glance over at our entry and smile.
When the three judges arrive looking very official and holding clipboards, everyone is asked to go stand by their house in case there’s any questions. We return to our table and wait.
~*~
When the group of judges appear at our table, one of them directs a comment at Joey and me. “This front door is very unique. Is this licorice?”
Joey and Scott swap proud looks. “Yes, we used licorice for the door and over the windows,” I reply, pointing to where the duo added the window accents.
All three judges nod and scribble something on their clipboards. A trickle of sweat runs down my neck. Could we be disqualified because we used licorice? I should have read those rules.
The burly male judge leans in and peers closely at the front of the house. “Are those hockey sticks?” he asks. “Whose idea was that?” His tone holds a pang of censure.
Oh no! Another rule violation?
Scott steps forward. “My uncle plays hockey, so I wanted to add those.” The kid isn’t cowering off to the side as I might expect him to based on the judge’s size and tone. Joey and I beam proudly.
The big man cracks a smile. “I like that you added personal touches. Nice job, young man.” Scott beams. I swear the judge and the kid are dying to exchange high-fives, but that probably isn’t allowed in the rules.
The lone female judge adds a comment. “I love the addition of the fairy on the roof. Very whimsical,”.
Katie bounces over to the judge, hops up and down, and raises her hand.
“Yes?” the older lady says.
Both Joey and I hold our breath wondering what Katie is going to say.
“Fairies bring good luck,” the tiny girl declares.
The judge tips her lips into a grin. “I didn’t know that.”
“And we want to win!” Katie adds, not using her indoor voice.
A nervous laugh escapes my lips. Oops! Kids say the darndest things .
“It’s just a design element and not meant to sway you in any way.” I give myself a mental head slap at that silly remark. “Sorry! Um, what I meant to say—”
Joey interrupts, “What Emma meant to say is Katie wanted a fairy, so we added it.”
The judges chuckle, then move on to the next house.
I slide up beside Joey. “Nice save! I can’t believe I said that.”
“Leave it to Katie to speak the truth, you were just trying to smooth things over.”
We look at each other and giggle. Hopefully, Scott won’t disown us before this is over. I glance at the boy, but he looks unfazed by what just happened.
It takes an excruciating hour for the judges to finish examining each house. I try to gauge their reactions, but they’re keeping pretty good poker faces. The trio finally steps to the front of the room to announce the winners. I grab Joey’s hand and squeeze it firmly. He grins at me and squeezes back.
The head judge addresses the contestants, “Thank you to everyone who entered the second annual Arcadia Elementary School Gingerbread House Contest! There were so many excellent entries, it was difficult to pick the winners. You should all feel proud of your creativity with gingerbread.” Excited murmurs float over the crowd.
“Without further ado, the third-place winner is Old MacDonald's Farm.” Everyone claps as a harried looking mom and four kids rush up to get their prize. That barn was very creative with a pretzel covered roof accented by red and green gumdrops. They used small plastic animals instead of marzipan ones, but I still see why they won.
When the clapping quiets down, the burly judge grabs the mic. “It was a difficult decision between first and second place. Both houses were very well done.”
But? I feel a but coming.
“The rules call for a festive, holiday theme. One house embraced that theme a little better than the other.”
My heart sinks. The fairy and hockey sticks, plus the black and red gumdrops on the roof and the black front door are going to keep us from winning. Dang! I wish I had read those rules.
“However, creativity is also a strong consideration. For that reason, we didn’t disqualify the second-place winner. In addition, the judges are considering a change to the rules so next year all themes will be accepted.”
Heads nod around the room and I overhear one woman comment that the rules were too traditional in the first place.
When the female judge takes the mic, she beams as she says, “The second-place prize goes to the Swiss Hockey and Fairy Chalet.”
Applause breaks out as my mouth falls open and my eyes fly to our entry’s nameplate. Joey must have switched the name. I toss him a quizzical look, but he ignores me, and instead tugs me along to accept the prize.
I smile brightly and bow as I take the red ribbon and gift certificate. When we get back to our table, I do a happy dance while I hand the ribbon to Scott, who’s grinning from ear to ear. “We won!” I squeal, trying to keep my victory dance low-key, but not doing a very good job of it. Joey gives me a high-five, Katie gives me a hug, and Scott just smiles.
A few seconds later, the microphone screeches as they announce the winner. The Victorian Mansion wins first-place prize and rightly so. That design was beautiful and well-made, giving off a holiday vibe like no other entry. With red and green icing accenting the roof, green wreaths on the windows, and a red gumdrop chimney, the house looks ready for Santa and eight tiny reindeer to arrive and deliver presents. I give the winner a thumbs up as she walks by.
“Why did you switch the name?” I whisper to Joey as the winner accepts her prize.
He puts his arm around my shoulder and tugs me close so I can hear his reply. “I wanted to give everyone credit for the design. You had the Swiss chalet idea. Scott suggested the hockey sticks. And Katie insisted on the fairy. I combined them all into one name.”
His sweet gesture makes me blink back tears. “Thank you.”
The big guy shrugs and his cheeks turn an adorable shade of red. He’s sure shed the Grumpy Gus routine around me, becoming more like a Hunky Teddy Bear.
“You know we almost got disqualified, right?” I whisper.
“Guess we should have read those rules,” he says with a grin.
Without thinking, I stand on my tiptoes and plant a kiss on his lips. He hesitates, obviously a little surprised by my spontaneity, but then he kisses me back. The world around me fades away as I focus on kissing the handsome goalie.
“What’s the gift certificate for?” Scott asks, causing Joey and me to spring apart.
Oops! How long have we been kissing?
I remember the paper clasped in my hand and squint to read it. “Dinner for four at Sammy’s Burgers.”
“Perfect!” Joey says with a belly laugh. How ironic that the kids were having Sammy’s Burgers when Scott asked me to help with the gingerbread house. This must be some kind of full-circle karma.
“See, fairies are lucky,” Katie adds.
“They are,” Joey says with a big grin as he gives his niece a hug.
“I think it was also the hockey sticks that did it,” I tease as I give Scott a fist bump.
Joey turns to me, “Em, you need to text Blake and let him know our house is a winner.”
I snap a selfie of the four of us in front of the house, with Scott holding the gift certificate and Katie holding the ribbon. I text it to Blake along with a smiley face emoji.
Several people congratulate us as we walk back to our cars. Joey’s carrying the gingerbread house. He and the kids are going to give it to Chelsea when she gets back into town tomorrow.
“Next year we’re going to read every line of those rules,” Joey teases after he loads the house into his vehicle.
“Won’t you be off playing hockey in the NHL next year?” I blurt, my heart taking a nose-dive with the thought.
His eyes lock with mine. “This contest is worth coming back for.” It feels like there’s an unspoken comment that I’m also worth coming back for.
As I glance at the kids and their handsome uncle, my heart overflows with happiness. What would it be like to have a family like this? And how could a certain hockey player factor into those plans?