Page 76 of Text Appeal

“And, um…oh shit.”

Denise’s cool gaze drops to an icy glare. Apparently, profanity at her cookout is not okay. Not even a little.

The information is lurking somewhere inside my brain. I just have to find it. “There was, um…”

Ava, meanwhile, is mouthing something. It looks vaguely like the word fuck. Though I doubt that’s what’s intended. But it definitely starts with the an F. All three judges are watching and waiting. I can feel the growing impatience and concern. Which is when it occurs to me.

“Fennel,” I shout like a wild woman. “It’s fennel!”

Denise’s eyebrows just about jump right off her face.

“Sorry,” I say in my best inside voice. “Herbs are just so exciting, you know?”

No one answers. Though several children in the audience are now giggling.

“I, um, I thought a lot about the addition. The added flavors of licorice from the fennel and of course the accompanying lemon for serving and what that would give to the dish. Ava and I talked about it, and we decided we wanted the taste to have layers. For the dish to be rich, but also familiar and comforting.”

Nothing from Denise. But she picks up a ladle and a little bowl and serves herself some. Noor and Jamal both follow suit. One by one, they each taste the concoction. There’s a lot of lip smacking going on. Much care and thought goes into the process. Then the judges wander off to a quiet corner of the tent to discuss things.

“I told you to write notes on your hand,” hisses Ava.

“Did you see how close Denise was watching me?”

She straightens her sheer maxi dress and checks on her hair. It’s slicked back in a ballerina bun. “That was a prize-winning pot. But I doubt we’ll even place.”

Connor tips his chin. I give him a wave. There are about a million questions in his eyes and fair enough really.

“Do you hear that?” Ava cocks her head. “Katja’s singing. She must have talked Nicole into letting her go onstage with her.”

“Go if you want. I can handle things here.”

She shakes her head. “This won’t take long.”

“So. I did what you said. When does Denise start to love me?”

“Did you really think it would be that easy to replace me?” Ava stares at me down the length of her nose.

“Not exactly what I’m trying to do.”

“If you say so.” She smirks. “Showing an interest in what she loves will help. It’s just going to take time.”

We both watch the judges conferring with their heads together. Then a moment later they seem done. Denise doesn’t look happy, which gives me hope. Given the effort Ava obviously put into her pot, she deserves some recognition. The three judges return to the middle of the long table.

Denise gives the crowd a brittle smile and says, “We’ve made our decision. The winners are…”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Congratulations.” Connor inspects the white rosette pinned to my dress. “An honorable mention in the chowder cook-off isn’t bad, Blue. Mom doesn’t give those to just anyone.”

“You are not going to believe the story I have to tell you.”

“I might if it involves you suddenly becoming a soup savant.” He slings an arm around my neck. Like we’ve been doing this forever. “Between you and me, I also get excited by fennel.”

“As herbs go, it’s a banger.” I grab hold of the hand hanging over my shoulder and this is just plain nice. Our first post-sex PDA. Holding his hand was always enjoyable, but this is different. The affection seems more honest this time. At least, it is for me.

The judging panel and Ana Rosa pose for photos along with her prize-winning pot of quinoa and cauliflower chowder. She deserves it. The soup smells amazing. Apparently roasting the bulbs of garlic made all the difference.

It is entirely possible that I learned more about soup todaythan I have in my entire life. What with Mom being a chef, she was never too interested in cooking at home. Which is fair enough. Perhaps I could get interested in cooking. Maybe next year I’ll enter the cook-off for real. I just need to buy one of those big-ass pots.

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