“That’s when things get hard,” Aunt Jo said. “It’s always more difficult to judge once the riffraff is gone.”
“It always is,” Tiff agreed. “Which is why, after you re-taste the finalist cakes, you’ll bring your notes and return here to figure out the winners. You’ll have thirty minutes to confer and debate. Preacher Thompson arranged for the choir to sing as entertainment while the crowd waits.”
Aunt Jo beamed. “They’re going to sing a Britney Spears medley. I heard them practicing last night.”
“Any questions?” Tiff asked. When no one said anything, she gave them a bright smile. “All right, then. We’re ready. This way, people!” She held her clipboard over her head and led the way out, the judges falling into step behind her.
Angela went to follow, but Mark caught her arm. “Did Gray say how long he’d be?” he asked. “He hasn’t shown up yet.”
“I don’t think he’s coming.”
“Why not?”
Angela glanced to where Ella was walking out the door.
Mark frowned. “I knew it! She dumped him again, didn’t she?”
“He wouldn’t say, but he looked upset.”
Mark’s mouth tightened. “You know what happened, and so do I. I tried to warn him.”
And she’d tried to convince him to make a grand gesture, advice she was sure he’d ignore.
“Grandma?”
She realized Mark was staring at her with narrowed eyes. “What?”
“You look guilty. What did you do?”
“It’s none of your business, but—” Heck, she might as well tell Mark what was going on with Gray. It wasn’t as if it could be kept secret. “If you must know, I told him that if he was really serious about Ella, then he’d find a way to show her.”
“Grandma, no! He should let her go and get on with his life.”
“I don’t think he listened to me, so you can relax.”
“Good. That’s the worst advice you could give him. He’ll—”
A roar rose outside, indicating that the judges had stepped into the tent and Ella’s fans had spotted her. Angela had to raise her voice to be heard. “Gray will figure things out. Let’s go. I want to watch the judging.”
Mark looked as if he might say more, but the noise prevented it. They made their way to the tent. There were no more seats, so they stood with the production crew along the side of a fabric wall.
The preacher, looking handsome in his black suit, invited Grace up on the stage to read a proclamation announcing the beginning of the Baptist Bake-Off. With that, they were officially underway. The next half hour passed in a blur as Aunt Jo, Jules, and Ella tasted, tested, marked, and wrote comments on cake after cake while Jen played some sort of music through the sound system. It had thumping beats and no lyrics, but the younger crowd seemed to love it.
Once the tasting was over, Zoe took the score sheets and went to a side table where her laptop and a small printer sat. In a remarkably short time, she pulled a page from the printer and showed it to Grace. After a whispered conversation, they handed the sheet to Ella. With a “Thank you,” Ella turned on her mic and announced the finalists. Both cheers and unhappy murmurs rippled through the crowd.
Angela leaned closer to Mark. “Why do these people care who the finalists are? They can’t possibly know the contestants.”
“Before they started, Zoe asked Tiff to put up pictures of each cake along with their baker so people could get to know the contestants. Then someone on Tiff’s team had the brilliant idea of adding a voting button so people could pick their favorites. Ella’s sponsors are holding a drawing for a special prize pack that they’ll give to one of the fans who picked the winning cake.”
“A prize? I wish I’d known. I would have voted.” She watched as Missy and Kristen moved the finalist cakes to the front table.
Grace stepped up to the mic and made announcements about parking and the location of an ATM while the judges went to work on the final round of cakes, tasting each one and making notes. Grace finished her announcements by inviting everyone to the final Apple Festival event, a bonfire at the high school football field, which was just behind the park. That done, she introduced the First Baptist choir. As they filed onto the stage, all wearing Britney Army T-shirts, the judges headed back to the greenroom for their final discussion.
“Let’s go,” Mark said. “I want to know who has the winning cake. I’ve got twenty bucks on Erma Tingle’s coconut cream.”
Angela thought that the deliberations would be better than hearing a Britney melody, so she agreed.
They’d just caught up to the others at the greenroom door when Aunt Jo’s voice boomed over the speaker system. “That hummingbird cake was—”
Ella grabbed Aunt Jo’s arm and pointed to her mic.
Aunt Jo muttered something under her breath, pulled her headset control from her pocket, and punched the button. The green dot faded. “I don’t know how that happened. It turned itself on while it was in my pocket.”
“The button isn’t secure. You have to be more careful.” Ella opened the door and let everyone inside. As the door closed, Ella collected three chairs and put them in a circle. “Let’s do this.”
She, Aunt Jo, and Jules sat down and began sorting their notes.
Angela inched closer, wanting to hear the final discussion.
Mark moved with her. “Now that it’s quiet,” he said in a low voice so the others wouldn’t hear, “I wish you’d find Gray and tell him you didn’t mean what you said earlier.”
Angela waved her hand, her gaze locked on the judges. “He doesn’t listen to me. Not usually.”
“But if he does? Grandma, if he makes this grand gesture you suggested, it could be really embarrassing for both him and Ella. That was a—”
Jules turned to look over her shoulder at the two of them. “What are you guys talking about?”
Ella and Aunt Jo turned to see who Jules was talking to, curiosity on both of their faces.
Oh no. Angela cut Mark a warning look. “Don’t—”
“We’re talking about Gray,” Mark said without sparing her a look. “Grandma told him that if he really wanted to get back with you-know-who, then he should make some sort of a grand gesture.”
“What?” Jules stood, her face set in angry lines. “Mom, why would you tell him something like that? Ella is not for him, and he knows it. She’s going to leave the same way she did last time.” Jules turned to glare at Ella, who sat stiffly, refusing to acknowledge Jules or anyone else.
That made Jules even angrier. In that moment, her pent-up frustration melded with her fury and it all spilled out. “Don’t just sit there and pretend you don’t have any say in this, Ella Dove. You’ve been flirting with my son like crazy this past month, without a care in the world as to how that’ll affect him. And now you’re going to pack up and leave, which surprises no one. That’s who you are, isn’t it? A heartless flirt.”
Ella’s face reddened. “Jules, this isn’t the time or place to—”
“Oh, this won’t take long. You’ve known how I feel about you ever since the day two years ago when you callously broke my son’s heart and stole our family cookbook. Worse, you’ve used that very cookbook to further your own career. On stolen recipes, no less!”