Page 97 of The Alpha and the Baker
Then it was time for the judges’ decision. The rest of our team returned, setting up the pie that Aunt Letitia had made. It was a key lime pie with candied fruit on top. I’d have to sneak a bite when the tasters came up.
It was almost a relief when they took the megaphone just to have a break from the announcer’s voice, even though I wanted to break the thing into a million pieces.
“Thank you everyone for being patient, it’s always a bit of a slow start, but once we find our rhythm, the ball really tends to get rolling! So, in the interest of being expedient, our decision for the winner of the first round is team number eight, the McCallisters!”
Wait, the McCallisters? That was us!
“Yes!” my mother cried, surprising me. But not so much so that I missed the opportunity to give her a high five. “You did it, Felicia.”
“We did it all together,” Felicia said. God, I wanted to kiss her so badly, but figured I should wait. Didn’t need to distract her when the stakes were high. “Every step of this process was a team effort, and we wouldn’t have been able to get this all done without each other. That’s why community is so important.”
Why… why did it feel like she was trying to after-school-special us? It wasn’t like anything she said was wrong. So, I nodded along as we went into the second round.
I was beginning to fully understand that the vibe of the event was relentlessly positive, because once again every team got good feedback. The harshest critique was for the middle-aged bowlers who made up the fifth team. Apparently, their bottom crust was soggy and underbaked.
Naturally, when it came to Auntie Letitia’s pie, the reviews were glowing, including words like “perfectly tart” and “sinfully decadent”. The third judge thought it was good, but admitted she wasn’t partial to sour things. I didn’t really consider limes to be ‘sour’, but maybe I just wasn’t that kind of white.
My stomach sank when it was the Ramirezes’ turn and the judges each tried a bite of their sopapilla cheesecake pie. I didn’t even know what sopapilla was until one of their teammates explained it, and damn, even I had to be real with myself that it sounded delicious.
And apparently it was, because two of the judges took a second bite, which they really weren’t supposed to.
Uh-oh…
Even more elaborate phrases were used, like “a perfect combination of rich, sweet, and creamy”, “tastes like my childhood” and “this is the kind of pie that makes me want to dance like I still had young knees”. I shot Chris a worried glance as the judges tottered off to deliberate, and he sent one right back my way.
However, we didn’t have much time to worry about it, because our bakers were returning to the tent for round three while Chris and I cut the remaining pie into small, bite-sized squares to get to as many people as possible. It certainly wasn’t as easy as giving out the cookies, but at least it meant more than seven people got to try the pie.
Unfortunately, I did have to give up the piece I’d planned to take for myself. I figured I could request Letitia to make a pie for me anytime, whereas this was likely the only time the people in the crowd would get a taste.
Or at least that was what I thought until Letitia returned and helped us hand out the bite-sized pieces.
“Is there a place where we can purchase an entire pie?” asked a middle-aged woman who reminded me a lot of Polly. “Ilovekey lime pie, but ever since I moved to this city, I’ve had the hardest time finding some place that actually makes it tart enough.”
“Yes, actually. I’ll be making five of these biweekly, which will be sold at our team captain’s bakery. Here, I have a business card for her right in my apron.”
At that, Auntie Letitia pulled a small rectangle from her front pocket with a flourish and handed it to the woman.
“Fantastic! Only five, though? How exclusive.”
“Well, you know, it’s a small business that’s still building its client base. But if you’d like to see more pies there more often, they have an online order form. Just check the website at the bottom of the card.”
“The conveniences of the modern world, I tell ya! But I’ll definitely place an order in. Those candied limes on top are just to die for!”
“I’m glad you like it, ma’am.”
I waited for the woman’s child to get his little square before addressing my aunt. “When did this happen?”
She blinked her warm cocoa eyes at me, as if she hadn’t even realized I was there. That’s when I realized that this was likely the most non-pack socializing Auntie Letitia had done in decades. “Oh, did I not mention it before?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Goodness! With everything going on, I suppose it just slipped my mind. Your wonderful mate asked me if I was interested in that when we were doing our testing phase. I was flattered, of course, but initially I turned her down.”
Whoa, there was a lot to unpack in that simple sentence. “She’s not my mate. We’re just dating.”
“And a seedling becomes a cornstalk,” she said, reaching up to pinch my cheek. Even as an alpha, there were some things that were unavoidable, and that included face pats and cheek pinches by elders. “But anyway, I figured it would be a nice way for me to contribute to the pack fund and have my own pocket money. You know, in all my years, I’ve never had a single paycheck. Always thought it was unnecessary, but now that I’m older… well, it seems like a bit of a novel experience.” When her eyes flicked to me again, there was an almost sheepish expression on her wizened face and a deep blush on her dark cheeks. “Me, making money off my pies, can you believe it?”
Realization dawned on me. As much as I tried to be an alpha and leader for all members of my pack, I had lived a much different life than many of our elder members. Aunt Letitia came from a time when women weren’t expected to have jobs outside the home, when she couldn’t have a credit card in her own name, or own a house. While shifter culture had never been as restrictive to our women since many of our packs were matriarchal, all of society—both magical and mundane—had come a long way.
