Page 30 of The Great Maple Mistake (Love in Maplewood #8)
Alex
August - Weekend of the cook-off
Friday morning
Why did I think I could pull off a festival with this many moving parts? What was I even thinking?
“Alex, where do you want the judges’ table?”
I glance at Andrea, one of the Maplewood high schoolers who’s volunteered to help.
“It’s on the layout map. Up next to the main stage.
But don’t set the table and chairs up until the canopy is installed.
” I’m doing my best to keep my voice calm and upbeat, even though I’m repeatedly answering questions that should be self-explanatory and chasing down vendors for missing items or ingredients.
Unfortunately, none of the items are from Maplewood.
If they were, I could hop in the car and pick up the missing things easily.
But no, everything that isn’t here yet is coming from at least an hour away.
And the delivery drivers who are en route are not giving me decent estimates of their arrival times.
Strong arms wrap around me from behind, and I glance up to see Cody’s concerned face. I whine a little and lean into him. “Why are people?”
He chuckles and kisses the side of my head. “More trouble?”
Cody had been with me first thing this morning, when I got a call from Jo Lambert who’d been on site, awaiting the arrival of the appliance delivery.
The truck had arrived, but the KitchenAid countertop mixers hadn’t made it.
And I don’t care what anyone says, you can’t run a cooking competition without an electric mixer or five.
No one wants to whisk egg whites into meringue by hand.
No one sane, anyway. And we don’t have that kind of time in this competition.
When Jo called Max Patten about the missing appliances, he said they were shipping directly from the distributor because he didn’t keep that many in stock.
He gave Jo the contact info, and she’d called them, trying not to panic.
The woman on the other end of the phone insisted the shipment was marked as delivered and was signed for by someone Jo had never heard of.
After several rounds of ‘it’s there, no it isn’t,’ a check on the tracking revealed the order had gone to Maplewood, New Jersey, not Maplewood, Vermont.
The woman apologized and assured Jo they’d have the order sent out to arrive tomorrow.
Which, of course, wouldn’t help us at all.
So my wonderful boyfriend swooped in and saved the day by calling around to various retailers and found a Costco in Colchester that had five of them.
He hopped in his SUV and drove all the way there, got the replacement mixers, and drove back.
He made it back less than an hour ago, and I’m so glad, because I need his steady calm to anchor me.
“No. Not more trouble. Just frustrating questions that people should know the answers to. You know the kind. Like when someone asks a question they could easily search for on the internet. Say, on the little electronic device in their pocket. But they want you to do it and spoon feed the information to them.”
“Ouch. That’s rough.” Cody leans in and nuzzles my neck, squeezing me tightly. “Will a hug help?”
I sigh and turn around. “Hugs always help.” His arms tighten around me as I reach up and slip my fingers into his hair.
He leans in, our lips almost touching when there’s a throat clearing behind us.
Cursing under my breath, because I was finally feeling my shoulders relaxing, I turn to find Jo grinning at us.
She gives us a little wave. “Ahem. I hate to interrupt, but the appliance installers are putting in the ovens, and one of them slipped with a wrench and got a pretty deep cut on his hand.” She looks pleadingly at Cody.
He kisses my cheek and gives me one more quick squeeze. “That’s my cue. Be back in a bit, babe.” He jogs over to the ambulance and grabs the first aid kit, following Jo back across the fairgrounds to the stage.
Sighing, I rub my eyes and hope these inconvenient but manageable issues are the only ones we encounter this weekend. It’s probably wishful thinking, but a guy can hope. As if on cue, Jordan calls out. “Hey, Alex, can you come give us your opinion on how to set up the judges’ table?”
Dropping my head into my palms, I give myself two whole seconds of a pity party and then slap a smile on my face and nod. “Absolutely.”
Sunday afternoon
I stare out at the sea of smiling, laughing faces, then switch on the microphone.
“Hello, everyone!” There’s a loud cheer from the crowd.
The turnout has been fantastic all weekend.
Friday night’s beverage and hors d’oeuvre events went off without a hitch, and yesterday’s breakfast and main course competitions were rousing successes.
Our local celebrity judges chatted with the contestants, had lots of great reactions from the crowds, and announced our winners, all of whom will be joining us later on stage after we announce the winner of today’s much-anticipated dessert division.
For the most part, the whole festival has gone smoothly, and I couldn’t be more shocked or pleased.
Fingers crossed that today goes just as well.
“Welcome to our final competition in our first and hopefully annual Great Maple Cook-off!” The crowd cheers, and it gives me a rush, like I’m about to perform on stage in some kind of contest myself.
God forbid. “I hope you had a chance to catch some of the other divisions this weekend. We had some amazing entries!” That gets lots of whoops.
“Before we get into the thick of things, I’d like to take a moment to once again thank our sponsors, Patten Appliances, for donating the ovens and all the small kitchen appliances our contestants have been using.
Remember, Max Patten will be offering deep discounts on these gently used appliances after the competition is over.
” There are a few cheers and some whistles from the crowd.
“And as a reminder, your ticket price helps support the Maplewood Food Bank as well as the Greater Vermont Food Bank.” There’s more clapping.
“Also, special thank-yous to Grossman Contracting for running the necessary gas and electric lines for this event. And to our very own Maplewood Fire Department for standing by through the setup and all the competitions, in case of emergency.” As the crowd erupts into hearty clapping and cheering, my eyes dart to Cody.
He’s sitting next to Eric Vega, on the back bumper of the ambulance, arms crossed so his shoulders and biceps bulge deliciously in his navy blue firehouse T-shirt.
I wave, and he blows me a kiss, making my heart flutter in my chest.
“Now for those pesky contest rules. For this round, contestants will have two hours to prepare a dessert with maple as one of the components of the recipe. At that time, our judges will be called upon to evaluate, rate, and score the results. Each dessert will be given points for originality, presentation, use of maple, and overall taste. Those scores will be totaled and the winner will be announced. You’ll be able to watch the contestants on the large screens on either side of the stage.
Shout out to Evan Finch and Jessica Vega for volunteering their time to set up our stationary cameras at each workstation and for manning the mobile cameras.
And a huge thank you to Tim Mathias for directing our camera and sound feeds.
We appreciate you guys giving up your final weekend at home before you go back to UVM next week.
” They get lots of whoops and cheers, and I hold up my hand so we can get started.
“Enough of me talking. Let’s get to what you’ve been waiting for. ”
I walk to the center of the stage and gesture to the wings.
“The judges for the dessert division are Mr. Joe Brewer, owner of Red’s Restaurant, famous for its milkshakes and maple custard pie.
” The crowd claps and cheers, and I wait for Joe to come out, wave, and then sit at the judges table.
“Sam Thatcher, owner of the brand new Scoops on Maple. Be sure to stop by and try their amazing handmade ice creams.” There’s more loud clapping as Sam takes a seat next to Joe.
“And our third judge for today’s dessert division is Catherine Stone, baker extraordinaire.
You can find her delicious confections at Special Blend every day of the week.
” The crowd claps again, and someone shouts, “I love your scones!” There are a few wolf whistles and a lot of laughter as Catherine waves at the spectators and takes her seat.
I wait until the judges have clipped on their mini microphones before continuing.