Page 41 of Faking it with the Hybrid

“As long as it was freely given, it’s not a problem,” Ms. Porter said, nodding. “And thank you for your honesty.”

Feeling like she was back in high school all over again, Mattie nodded and left the stage.

At last time was up and everyone had deposited their cookies. As the doors were opened and the family and friends who had come to see the judging filed in, Mattie took Grath’s big hand and squeezed it in anticipation.

Smiling down at her, he squeezed back.

“Nervous, little girl?” he rumbled.

“A little,” Mattie admitted. “But I know I did my best—no,wedidourbest,” she corrected herself. “Because I couldn’t have made these without you, Grath—thank yousomuch.” And, standing on her tiptoes, she managed to kiss his cheek.

Grath put an arm around her and gave her an affectionate squeeze.

“Any time, baby. I love making balls with you.”

Mattie stifled a laugh and then her mom and dad and Anna and Grandma Thelma were crowding up beside her.

“Hey, Ethan says he’s sorry but he had to go into work for a few hours,” Anna said in her ear. “How did they come out?”

“Pretty good, despite everything,” Mattie told her.

“Did you have everything you needed?” her mom asked anxiously, leaning around Anna to talk. “I tried to think of everything.”

“You did great, Mom. Though I’m afraid your food processor is missing,” Mattie said apologetically. “I’ll have to buy you a new one.”

“Buy me a new one? What in the world happened to it?” her mom demanded.

But at that moment someone on the stage tapped the microphone and the gray-haired woman who had announced the judges began to speak.

“Thank you all for coming to the judging of our annual Christmasville Christmas Cookie Bake-off,” she said, smiling at the assembled crowd. “Now, as usual, we will call each contestant by name and when they come to stand on the stage, the judges will taste their cookies and give their opinions and their scores. Then the contestants will step to the side while the judges tabulate the numbers to decide the winner.”

“Okay, here goes!” Mattie whispered to Grath. The big Hybrid gave her a wink and squeezed her hand again.

“If your cookies don’t win, it won’t be for lack of trying,” he murmured. “But I have a feeling we have the winning balls.”

Mattie stifled a nervous giggle.

“I sure hope so!”

And then the announcer started calling contestants on stage.

They were called up by number so Mattie had to wait through eight other bakers before her own name was called. The girl at table eight—Shonda—got very high marks for her almond orange shortbread. Mr. Carmichael gave it a nine and called it, “melt in your mouth delicious” and Mrs. Owens gave it an eight point five and said it was “scrumptious.” Mrs. Kranst, unsurprisingly, was the strictest judge. “I find thesemorethan acceptable. Seven point five,” she said, nodding her head.

Shonda stepped to one side, looking extremely pleased with her scores—as well she should—they were the highest so far, Mattie thought. Even Mrs. Nelson’s Cranberry Clouds hadn’t outscored them.

And then the announcer was calling out her name and Mattie felt her stomach fill with butterflies as she approached the stage.

“Come with me,” she whispered over her shoulder to Grath. “Come on—you made these as much as I did!”

“No, you go ahead—it’s your time to shine, baby,” Grath told her. He gave her a little push at the small of her back. “So go shine.”

“Well…okay.” Mattie nodded and stepped up onto the stage, her heart pounding.

Each of the judges had one of her pecan sandy snowballs and Mattie watched anxiously as they all took a bite.

“Mmm!” Mr. Carmichael looked impressed. “These just melt in your mouth—they’re so tender! Nine point five.”

“Buttery perfection,” Judy Owens, the second judge agreed. “I’m going to give them a nine point five too.”

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