They both look guilty.
“Maybe,” Joyce mumbles.
“Since the church bake sale incident,” Judy adds.
“You’ve been in afakefeud?” Laughter spills out of me from exhaustion and absurdity and sheer disbelief.
“Our feud isn’t fake,” they say in perfect unison.
Then they look at each other … and almost smile.
“Ladies—” I start.
As if being reprimanded, Judy says, “Your brownies are good, Joyce. Always have been.”
My grandmother takes a long moment before responding. “So are yours, Judy. Very good.” Then she reaches across the table with her hand extended to shake.
Judy hesitates for only a second before taking her hand.
“Friends?” my grandmother asks.
“Friendly rivals,” Judy counters.
“I can live with that.”
They smile as if they’ve always been friends and just added the rivalry to make things more interesting. Spicy? Salty? I drop my head into my hands, finally ready for bed.
But then they immediately start arguing about whose recipe should go first on the dessert table at the Fireman’s Ball. However, it’s different now—more playful instead of pointed. The decades-long cold war has thawed into something almost warm.
I snap a photo of them mid-argument and text it to Patton.
Me: Mission impossible accomplished. The Golden Grandmas called a truce.
Patton: Did spring freeze over?
Me: Maybe a little. They’re arguing about nuts now.
Patton: That’s progress, right?
Me: For them? It’s a miracle.
Patton: Is the credit yours?
Me: We can thank my late-night brownie-baking escapes. I added mint chips. I’ll bring you one tomorrow.
Patton: Looking forward to it. Get some sleep. Sweet dreams.
I could curl up with my phone as I read his last text. But after Judy leaves and Grandma goes back to bed, I still can’t sleep.
I sit at the kitchen table with my phone, drafting another message to Patton.
Me: We should talk before the Ball. There’s something I need to tell you.
I add more, explaining the bet, why I agreed, and how it doesn’t mean anything. Telling him this way isn’t ideal, but I can’t keep it from him any longer. My thumb hovers over thesendbutton.
This is it. The moment I come clean about Operation Make Maverick Smile. The bet that started as a stupid joke and turned into something that feels a lot like love.
I stare at the words for five minutes,paralyzed by fear.
