The Driftwood was almost an hour away.
“How many people are we talking?”
Marilyn screwed up her face. “Let’s see. There’s the crew of five, me and five contestants.”
Eleven people, which was perfect because that was exactly how many rooms they had empty at the Beachcomber once she and Jules moved in together and Gina moved to the storage room.
“No problem. I have the perfect place right down the road, and there’s plenty of room for everyone.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Gina didn’t remember pie making being so exhausting. Mixing the dough took muscles she never used, and rolling it out was an exercise in frustration when it kept separating at the edges. Gram had always done most of the work.
She still hadn’t found any recipes, but a strawberry pie recipe from a Maine food column by Paula Anderson and Pearl’s tip of adding water to the dough got her through. The sides of the crust weren’t fluted evenly, and the top didn’t have fancy designs like Gram used to make, but at least it was better than the fruit kebabs they’d brought to the prior town meeting.
She felt proud when she placed it on the table in between Cassie’s cream cheese brownies and Deena’s chocolate fudge before taking her seat in one of the folding chairs in the town hall.
At the front of the room, Rose clapped her hands, and the murmur of voices stopped as everyone took their seats.
“As you all have probably heard by now, theGreat New England Baking Contestis coming to Shell Cove next week.”
People murmured. Some clapped. A few looked skeptical.
“This will be great for the town and our businesses,” Rose continued. “But there is one caveat. We need to get Main Street looking its best.”
More murmuring and people shifting in their seats. Dwight, the grump from the first meeting, raised his hand. “How are we supposed to do that? It’s only a few days away.”
“Good old-fashioned elbow grease,” Rose said as if it were the most fun one could have.
“I don’t know,” a woman said. “I have plans, and I’m not as young as I used to be.”
Cassie Fox stood and looked over the crowd. “I’m young, and I can help you with the heavy lifting. My shop doesn’t need much.”
A woman with long, dark hair stood. Gina thought she’d seen her around town doing landscaping. “I’ll donate the flowers. I can fill those giant pots on Main Street and the window boxes on the shops.”
Rose beamed from her place behind the podium. “Thank you, Lorna. That’s very generous.”
The next few minutes had a flurry of townspeople discussing ideas and volunteering to help. By the time Rose called an end to the meeting, pretty much everyone in the room was on board with cleaning up the town and eager to get started. Even Dwight seemed optimistic.
Everyone rushed to the food table, including Gina. She couldn’t wait to see what people thought of her pie.
* * *
Jules scannedthe crowd at the town meeting. She wasn’t looking for anyone in particular, certainly not Nick, but she was pleased to find that she recognized more faces than last time.
She was glad Nick wasn’t one of them. He was probably too embarrassed to face her. His grandfather was there, though. He’d nodded to her politely then proceeded to avoid her. Oh well, at least the meeting had gone well, and the town was up for sprucing up the shops along the main street.
Things were looking up for the Beachcomber despite the uncertainty of the loan. With each passing day, Jules felt that their odds of actually getting it were dwindling, especially since she hadn’t heard anything from Nick.
An update would have been nice, but if there was nothing to say because the loan had been denied, then she supposed he might not want to update her. But if it had been denied, wouldn’t his grandfather have said something? No sense in dwelling on the negative.
Marilyn had booked the rooms at the Beachcomber, and they’d gotten a hefty deposit, which allowed them to pay the electric and gas bills and for all the supplies they’d ordered to decorate the rooms. The balance would pay Dex’s bill. Jules didn’t want to look any further than that. Best to take things one day at a time, she thought as she headed toward the food table, where Gina was hovering near her pie.
Gina had changed in the short time they’d been at the Beachcomber. She seemed more relaxed, less… annoying. But old wounds ran deep, and Jules still wasn’t inclined to be besties with her. But maybe, just maybe, they could get past that, eventually. She still wasn’t going to try any pie. The presentation was less than appealing, though she would refrain from saying that to Gina’s face.
Jules grabbed a small plate and reached behind Pearl for a cream cheese brownie. Gina must have talked Pearl into tasting the pie because the older woman held a plate with a piece of it, her fork hovering over the slice as if she were trying to force herself to dig in.
Jules watches as Pearl forked off a tiny piece and put it in her mouth. She plastered on a smile as she swirled it around in her mouth. It looked like she was hiding a grimace, and when she finally managed to swallow it, she put the plate down.
