Page 48 of Baking and Angels

“The registration table is over there,” Eleanor said, gesturing to a folding table with a green tablecloth tucked into a corner of the gym. Two people sat at it, talking to each other with a bunch of clipboards and numbers sitting on the surface before them waiting to be used. “I hear there are still a couple of slots left.”

“Can he just do that?” Helena asked, glancing over her shoulder atthe table.

Eleanor sneered. “Yeah, why not? You just have to throw in for the prize money: $100 participation fee.”

“I have… I have no equipment,” Rafferty said, directing his gaze poignantly toward the other competitors.

“That’s fine. Everything you need is provided. People just like to bring their own equipment if they can. Because of the gym, the challenge is all based on things that can be made in a toaster oven.”

“We were just here to check it out, but if you want to, go ahead, Rafferty,” Helena encouraged, setting a hand on his arm. He could tell she wanted himto do it.

“I’ll find us good seats,” Cindy said, offering her hand to take his rolling suitcase for him.

He relented, and Eleanor nodded with satisfaction before turning around and heading back to her prep area. “Good luck.”

He followed Helena over to the registration table where she picked up a clipboard. “Hi, he’s participating,” she said to the two figures waiting there.

They broke off their conversation with an air of annoyance, but one of them pointed to the surface of the clipboards. “Fill this out. The feeis $100.”

“Got it,” Helena said, already reaching around for herbackpack.

Rafferty stopped her with a hand. “What are you doing?” he asked softly, trying to cheat away from the two contest officials, who were now more interested in the potential drama before them.

“I got you covered. Don’t worry,” Helena said, then she winked. “You can make it up tome later.”

His mind went to exactly what she was implying, which made him blush, and then he chuckled when he realized he was blushing. She grinned, very pleased with herself as she paid the fee. They needed to laugh after the events at Cindy’s house, especially since Cindy had made it very clear she didn’t want to think let alone talk about it.Full stop.

Even when Helena offered to abort this plan, Cindy insisted that they go anyway. And so here he was, signing up for this very competition. Not the strangest turn of events in his life, but he wondered if he had had days like this in his first life or this was just how things were inthis time.

With the fee paid, it only left the clipboard, which he did mostly himself, only pausing when he got to the line asking for his culinary school.

“I don’t…” he said to Helena, indicating the line with a finger to finish thesentence.

“Hey, is it necessary for him to be from a school?” she asked theofficials.

“No, you can leave it blank. The bare minimum of what we need is his name, email address, and the fee. The challenge is baking something involving a toaster oven. You can do anything else you want, but something in the dish has to come out of a toaster oven,” one of the officials said. “Oh, also since you’re the odd number, you get a pass on the first round. We’re cutting off applicants now, so you can just sit in the stands and watch.Congrats.”

They went to join Cindy, who had indeed found a spot on the less crowded side of the gym, mostly near the front, but with enough space to tuck their suitcases between two bleachers. Suitcases they didn’t need now that they weren’t staying.

“Well, I guess that’s lucky,” Helena said as she settled down next to her friend.

“I do not think so,” Rafferty murmured as theysat down.

“What happened?” Cindy asked, tucking her mobile phone away when they approached.

“He’s in, but he’s the odd man out, so he gets a pass on the first round,” Helena reported to them. “Though I think he’s disappointed; he wanted to cook.” She cast teasing eyes at him.

“How is this a contest if I get a pass?” he responded, following her lead and playing up his disappointment to comical levels. “I tell you it isa fraud!”

The two women giggled.

Satisfied with his joke, he cast his gaze over the contestants. After several moments of observation, he realized he could beat most of them with skill alone. And yet, in his mind, each of these cooks were far worthier to be called such than he was.

I’ve got to stop thinking like that. I won. This is my reward. I get another chance,he told himself.

Still, it was fascinating to watch the process. The drama before them played out as some dishes succeeded, while others were utter disasters and everything in between. Once the plating was finished, they were taken to another official who numbered the plate the same as the contestant before setting it on a table to wait for tasting. Eventually a timer went off, and all the remaining contestants, no matter where they were in the process or whether they started over again or not, had to either turn in their dishes or forfeit. Two chose the second option, yielding their rounds.

“Looks like Eleanor is moving on,” Cindy said, nodding over at the whiteboard they had rolled in to keep track of thebrackets.

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