Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
With Frank off golfing, Essie drove her golf cart to the community center to cheer her friend on.
The late-morning air was warm and carried the faint scent of cut grass. She couldn’t help but think someone ought to make a candle that smelled like that, so green and fresh.
As the golf cart hummed along the familiar path through the Colony, Essie passed neighbors tending flowerbeds and walking small dogs, their greetings floating toward her on the breeze. It felt like an ordinary day and comfortingly so—which made the flutter in her stomach feel slightly out of place.
She was nervous for Blaise and Brick, but she’d take that feeling over being worried about Sophie any day.
She found parking near the farthest side entrance of the community center. Clearly, this was the place to be today. Her cart clicked softly as it powered down, and she took a moment to check herself in the mirror. It was easy to get windblown in a golf cart.
She headed for the entrance and as soon as she stepped inside, the air hit her all at once.
It was warm and sweet. Heavy with the smell of sugar, butter, vanilla, chocolate, toasted coconut, and something faintly burnt that made her smile.
Instead of the hubbub she’d expected, the place was filled with a taut stillness that made people speak in hushed tones. Even the room itself seemed to be holding its breath.
Apparently, she’d come right as the judging was about to begin. She looked around the crowd and found Cece, then made her way to stand with her friend.
Cece gave her a hug. “You’re just in time.”
“How do you think they’ll do?”
Cece nodded. “I think pretty good.”
Just then, Paige joined them. “Sorry I’m late. Big morning, but I’ll tell you about that later. Althea won’t make it. Lester has physical therapy.”
Essie smiled. “I’m just glad you made it.”
“Me, too,” Cece added.
Contestants stood near their stations, many with hands clasped in front of them. Some had their arms folded tight against their bodies. A few chewed nervously on their lips or tapped a foot without realizing it. There was a lot of fidgeting.
Cakes lined the long judging tables like a parade of edible floats.
Tall chocolate layers dusted with cocoa, glassy lemon glazes catching the light, buttercream swirls so elaborate Essie thought it would be a shame to cut into them at all.
What a beautiful display. She held her phone up, taking a quick picture to show Frank.
As she put her phone away, she lifted up on her tiptoes to see better. Cece leaned in and said, “Second table, third cake. That’s Brick’s.”
Essie found it. Brick’s coconut cake sat quietly among the others, unassuming in the best possible way. The frosting was smooth and even, the coconut pressed neatly along the sides like it had been done with a patient hand. No extra flair. No unnecessary garnish. Just classic coconut cake.
It could have been on the cover of a 1950s homemaking magazine and that, Essie thought, was its real charm.
Paige gave a small nod, her thoughts clearly in line with Essie’s as she said, “It doesn’t need to be fancy when it tastes as good as it does.”
“True,” Cece said.
Essie’s gaze lifted to where Brick and Blaise stood nearby. Blaise’s posture was relaxed but attentive, her face calm. Brick looked calm, eyes occasionally on the cake but not obsessing over it, as if he trusted it to speak for itself.
Well, it would have to, wouldn’t it?
“Come on, girls” Cece said. “Let’s get closer. I am press, after all.”
Paige and Essie followed her to the velvet rope separating the spectators from the competitors. Essie rested her hands lightly on it, standing between her friends.
The emcee stepped forward, clipboard tucked under his arm. His shoes squeaked faintly against the polished floor as he adjusted the microphone. “All right, folks,” he said, his voice carrying easily now that the room had gone nearly silent. “The judges are about to do their thing.”
Essie leaned in, barely aware she was doing it.
She didn’t know how the judges would decide.
She couldn’t predict tastebuds or preferences or the whims of competition.
But standing there, surrounded by the warm, sugary air and the shared anticipation of a room full of people who had dared to put something personal on display, she felt certain Brick had made a good showing.
She’d tasted that cake. It was spectacular. So long as nothing had gone wrong, he stood a very good chance.
The judges moved down the line slowly, deliberately, each one carrying a small plate and fork, conferring in low voices Essie couldn’t quite make out.
Slices were doled out by volunteers. Every few steps, the judges paused, tasted, murmured, nodded.
One woman closed her eyes as she chewed, clearly savoring whatever was on her fork.
Another scribbled notes with an exaggerated seriousness that made Essie’s fingers curl around the rope a little tighter.
When they reached Brick’s cake, Essie held her breath. Paige put her hand on Essie’s arm.
One of the judges leaned closer, examining the frosting. Another pressed a fork gently into his slice, watching the crumb spring back. They each took their bites, chewing thoughtfully.
She couldn’t read their reactions at all. She looked at Cece, then at Paige, both of whom shrugged to indicate they couldn’t tell anything either.
The judges moved on.
Finally, the judging was complete and the scores were tallied.
The emcee returned to the microphone and the judges gathered near the front of the room with their clipboards, their job done.
The low buzz of conversation resumed around her, contestants craning their necks, spectators whispering predictions. Cece was typing on her phone.
Essie could hear her own heartbeat in her ears.
Paige whispered, “This is nerve-wracking.”
Essie nodded. “You can say that again.”
“All right,” the emcee said, smiling broadly. “Thank you to everyone who participated today. Truly, this was not an easy decision, but a very delicious one.”
A ripple of polite laughter went through the room.
“We’re going to start by announcing our top three.”
Essie straightened. She was tempted to grab Cece’s hand for moral support, but Cece was snapping pictures. She grabbed Paige’s instead and they hung on to each other.
Third place was announced—a chocolate cake with raspberries—and applause followed.
“And second place goes to…Entry Number Seven. The coconut cake.”
For a split second, Essie didn’t react at all. Then she, Cece, and Paige started cheering. Essie clapped so hard her hands stung, her heart lifting even as something tugged faintly at her chest. Second place was wonderful. More than wonderful. Brick had done beautifully.
She saw Blaise reach for Brick’s arm, pride plain on her face. Brick nodded once, accepting the result with quiet grace, stepping forward to accept the ribbon and brief handshake from a judge.
Essie smiled, her eyes unexpectedly damp.
The applause faded, but the emcee didn’t move on.
Instead, he glanced back at the judges, brows drawing together slightly. One of them leaned in to say something. Another shook her head. Some papers were shuffled. A low, intense conversation followed that set the room buzzing again.
“What’s happening?” someone near Essie whispered.
Essie lifted her chin, suddenly alert. She had no idea. Cece shook her head as if reading Essie’s mind.
Paige tried to see better. “Something’s going on.”
The emcee cleared his throat. “Apologies, folks. We need just a moment.”
The judges continued to confer, one of them stepping away from the table of cakes and returning with a clipboard. Another pointed discreetly toward a cake near the far end. A third shook her head again, firmer this time.
The conversations around Essie grew louder. No one knew what was happening.
Finally, the emcee turned back to the microphone, his expression careful. “It’s come to the judges’ attention that the initial first-place entry failed to meet one of the competition’s stated requirements regarding preparation,” he said. “As a result, that entry has been disqualified.”
A collective gasp moved through the room. Essie felt it before she understood it, an intake of breath so sharp it almost hurt.
The emcee continued. “Which means…we have a new first-place winner.” He smiled now, broad and unmistakable. “First place goes to Entry Number Seven. The coconut cake.”
Essie, Paige, and Cece immediately turned to look at Brick. For one frozen second, he didn’t move.
Blaise stared at him, eyes wide, her hand pressed to his arm like she needed to anchor herself to something. Then Brick let out a breath that might have been disbelief or surprise and stepped forward as the room erupted into applause.
Essie clapped hard, laughing now, tears pricking at her eyes. She hugged Paige, then Cece, who both seemed to be as emotional as she was.
She watched Brick accept the ribbon, watched the judges speak to him quietly, watched Blaise beam beside him. Cece snapped a picture.
The cake sat there on the table exactly as it had before, nothing fancy about it. Except it had just been crowned the best in the room.
Essie pressed a hand to her chest. “They did it, girls.”
Paige nodded. “They sure did.”
Cece sniffed. “First place. How about that?”