Page 112 of Babies at Coconuts

Hope sat riveted. At the fifteen-minute mark, the emcee blew a whistle. “Time’s up, chefs.”

The three chefs froze. Cheri poised her knife spreader in mid-air.

Alex noticed peach and yellow frosting clung to Cheri’s fingertips. The chef from Beth’s Bakery held an edible flower while a smiling Julio had his arms crossed, without so much as a hair out of place, appearing perfectly relaxed, if not ornery.

Twirling the whistle as if he were a lifeguard, the announcer sashayed across the stage. Standing before each cake, saying, “Beautiful. Beautiful. Beautiful. It appears everyone practiced.”

He turned toward each chef. “Did you ever think you could decorate an entire wedding cake in fifteen minutes?” Clucking his tongue, he didn’t wait for an answer to his hypothetical question and faced the crowd. “It’s time to vote.”

A bubbly, ponytailed assistant ran down the riser stairs toward the audience and handed out scraps of pink paper.

Everyone was told to place their votes in the strategically placed glass bowls. Alex, Suzy, and Hope cast the first three votes in Cheri’s dish.

A flustered-looking Cheri mouthed, “Thank you.”

The women sat down to watch other guests vote. Several women stepped toward Julio’s bowl, giggled, and even waved to him as they placed pink slips in his container.

“Figures.” Alex scrunched her nose. “Just because he’s a man—a very handsome man with an accent—he gets their vote.”

“His castle cake is unique.” Suzy gave Alex a knowing glance. “Plus, you know you’d do the same thing if you weren’t friends with Cheri.”

Crossing her arms and hiding a smile, Alex said, “Yeah, so?”

Several women vacillated between voting for Beth’s Bakery, Fifth Avenue Catering, and Julio. A few hovered between Julio and Cheri’s bowls before casting a vote. Eventually, all three bowls were nearly half filled with pink scraps of paper.

Hope whispered, “What if it’s a tie?”

A few more tentative patrons lingered in front of the stage, but the emcee broke the silence. “Chop. Chop. We don’t have all day. Brides are backstage and ready to model wedding gowns soon.”

A few stragglers cast their votes as the announcer eyed the room. Twirling his moustache again, he asked, “Anyone else?”

Alex leaned over and lowered her voice. “That guy is full of himself. I’ll be glad when this is over. I think I’ll vomit if I have to take much more of him.”

Both Suzy and Hope shushed her.

When no one else came forward, the host dramatically shook each bowl. “Hmm. This is going to be close.” After dumping the votes on top of three small tables, the assistant helped him count and tally the ballots.

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