A few loops around the town, and we’d reached our decisions. Returning to the building, a crowd had gathered. I stood in front of the room with the ribbons and a rolling pin trophy.
“Again, I would like to reiterate that the pies were all wonderful, and I was grateful to be a part of the judging process.” I took the paper out of my pocket. “The winners and runner ups are as follows. Best overall pie this year went to pie C in the cream pie section. Runner-up was pie D in fruit. The best crust went to pie A in meringues and the best filling to fruit pie A.”
The 4H teen leadership held up the pies that won, followed by hoots and jeers. Although the biggest smile of all belonged to my fellow judge Doug, whose wife Martha was crying happy tears and running up to take her trophy.
I knew I was walking on thin ice trying not to offend anyone, but everyone seemed to accept the results without a fight. Ashley was not pleased, but I was glad for it . . . which may have been childish of me.
As we left the building, Marissa squeezed my hand and leaned her head on my shoulder. “Now that was impressive. You know, if you weren’t already one, I’d say you should become a lawyer.”
I chuckled. “Glad to know I made the right choice to diffuse the baking club. Haven’t had many opportunities to practice actual law here.” We wandered to a little wooden picnic table to the left.
“Hey Mar.” A woman with long brown hair and acrylic nails came up to the table, followed by a blonde. These were her friends from the corn maze. I had heard a lot about them, but had never been introduced. I stood and held out my hand.
“Hey, nice to meet you. I’m Scott.”
The one with the extra-long lashes tipped her chin. “Umm, yeah, everyone knows who you are.”
I nodded. High heels, long dark hair, painted nails, and sass for days. “You must be Rose.” I pointed to the shy, smiling blonde. “And Faith, I presume?” She gave a shy smile and nodded.
“It’s almost time for the pumpkin weigh-ins,” Faith spoke softly. “I figured you wouldn’t want to miss it.”
Marissa stood and nodded at me. “You coming?”
“Is thisthepumpkin weigh-in?” I leaned away so I could see her eyes.
“The one and only.” She giggled and pulled me off the bench. “Let’s go see if Frank keeps his title.” She kept my hand in hers as we walked across the open grass field toward a dirt parking lot. “In fact, I bet you’ll have some new cases on Monday all about pumpkin drama.”
“Lucky me,” I said.
Actually, I did feel lucky. With Marissa’s hand placed in mine and the bonus of not having to take any older ladies to the hospital, today had been awesome.
“Good to see Mar finally got you out of wearing suits.” Rose looked over her shoulder. “I also think we need to get you some cowboy boots.”
Faith clapped. “Oh, and a big hat!”
“No, no hat,” I stated. “That’s where I would draw the line.” Marissa giggled and reached up and pressed a kiss on my cheek.
Chapter Twenty-Five
MARISSA
I saton the worn navy-blue couch flipping through wedding magazines that Faith had brought over. Weddings used to be an avoided topic, but I didn’t mind it as much as I thought I would. I flipped the page. Wow! A cookie bar. If I got married, that would be a must.Wait. Focus on Nan.More and more, I had wondered what it would look like if it was my wedding we were planning.
Faith squealed in excitement. “Oh, Nan look. What about a Cinderella cake?”
Nan chuckled and looked at the page. “Faith, I don’t think “fairy tale” is quite my style. At my age, I’m more the fairy godmother than a princess.”
Faith tipped her head and looked at the cake. “Nan, everyone is a princess at their wedding.”
Rose turned the page to show Nan what she was looking at. “What about this cake?”
“Oh geez, Rose.” Nan leaned forward to get a better look. “Does that one have skulls on it?”
Rose shrugged and kept turning pages. “I guess that’s a no. Where are you thinking of having it?”
Nan sat back in her chair. “I’m thinking something simple.”
Faith scooted closer to me. “So . . . just planning Nan’s wedding, right?” Her bright blues shined with hope. “You’ve been with Scott an awful lot.”
