Page 26 of Deep Fried Devotion
He pulled a small wrapped package from his truck and handed it to her. "An early business partnership gift."
Inside was a leather-bound notebook, the kind with thick cream pages and a ribbon bookmark. On the cover, embossed in gold letters, it read: "Impossible Things: A Partnership Journal."
"For all the ideas we're going to come up with together," he said. "The good ones, the terrible ones, and the ones that seem impossible until we figure out how to make them work."
Birdie opened the notebook to find that he'd already written on the first page in his careful handwriting:Day One: Everything starts with believing in magic.
"Soren." She looked up at him, this man who'd appeared in her life like an answer to a question she hadn't known she was asking. "Are you sure about this? About us, about the business, about turning down everything you thought you wanted?"
"I've never been more sure of anything." He cupped her face in his hands, thumbs brushing across her cheekbones. "Three days ago, I thought success meant impressing people who didn't matter with food that had no soul. Now I know it means creating joy with someone who makes me want to be better than I ever imagined I could be."
When he kissed her, it tasted like coffee and possibility and a future that seemed too good to be true until you realized you were brave enough to reach for it.
"So," Birdie said when they broke apart, both of them grinning like teenagers, "partners?"
"Partners," Soren agreed. "In impossible things and everything else."
As they drove away from the fairgrounds in their respective trucks, following each other back toward town and whatever adventure tomorrow would bring, Birdie caught sight of a familiar figure in her rearview mirror. Mrs. Plum stood at the entrance to the fairgrounds, waving like she'd been waiting there all along.
Some matchmakers worked with dating apps or dinner parties. Mrs. Plum worked with deep-fried food and the kind of meddling that looked like coincidence until you realized it was actually magic.
Tomorrow would bring contracts and television cameras and the beginning of something that would either change their lives or teach them that some dreams were too big to handle. But tonight, they had each other and a notebook full of impossible things waiting to be discovered.
And really, what more did any love story need than that?
Chapter Ten
One Year Later
The Guilford Fair's opening day arrived with the same September crispness that had marked the beginning of everything, but this time Birdie woke up to the sound of Soren humming off-key in the kitchen of their shared apartment. She lay in bed for a moment, listening to the domestic symphony of coffee brewing and cabinet doors closing, marveling at how natural it had become to share mornings with someone who still left precise notes about optimal oil temperatures tucked into her apron pockets.
"Morning, sunshine," Soren called from the kitchen, using the endearment that had evolved from his observation about her looking like sunshine. "Your grandmother's cinnamon roll recipe is in the oven."
Birdie padded to the kitchen in her pajamas, accepting the coffee mug he handed her with a sleepy smile. The walls were covered with framed photos from their year of adventures—farmers markets across New England, the Food Network taping where they'd successfully steered the conversation toward innovation, the grand opening of their shared commercial kitchen space where they now taught weekend classes on "impossible cooking."
"Ready for today?" Soren asked, stealing a kiss that tasted like coffee and promise.
"As ready as anyone can be for controlled chaos," Birdie replied, thinking about the scenario awaiting them at thefairgrounds—the same corner where everything had begun, now expanded into something neither of them could have imagined.
They drove to the fair in their usual rhythm, their original trucks following behind driven by the two culinary students they'd hired to help with the expanded operation. The "Impossible Eats" banner stretched between both vehicles, a perfect blend of Birdie's whimsical design and Soren's clean lines. Their success had grown beyond food trucks—they now had a catering business, a cookbook deal, and a waiting list of couples wanting to learn how to cook together.
The fairgrounds looked exactly the same, but their corner was different. Where one disputed sign had once marked their territory, a custom-built pavilion now displayed both truck identities under a shared canopy. They'd kept their individual brands—Impossible Treats and Fry or Die—while adding collaborative menu items that had become legendary across Connecticut's fair circuit.
"Well, look who's back," Mrs. Plum announced, approaching with a plate of what appeared to be deep-fried yarn. "My goodness, you two look positively professional."
"Please tell me that's not actual yarn," Soren said, eyeing the plate with the wariness of someone who'd learned to expect the impossible from Mrs. Plum's requests.
"Edible fiber art," Mrs. Plum replied with the pride of someone who'd successfully badgered them into creating her most ridiculous request yet. "Spun sugar made to look like my prize-winning wool. The ladies' auxiliary is going to swoon with excitement."
Birdie grinned, remembering their negotiation with Mrs. Plum about this particular impossibility. The older woman had become their unofficial creative consultant, suggesting increasingly outrageous concepts that somehow always turned into crowd favorites and social media sensations.
"Speaking of the ladies' auxiliary," Mrs. Plum continued, gesturing toward the vendor area with barely contained glee, "you might want to brace yourselves. We have a delicious situation developing."
Birdie followed her gaze and spotted the source of Mrs. Plum's amusement. Two food trucks sat parked at the same corner spot across the fairgrounds, their owners standing in heated discussion while Jennie Patel consulted her clipboard with familiar desperation.
"Double booking?" Soren asked, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer would be more complicated.
"Much better," Mrs. Plum said. "Romantic rivals. Jake from the gourmet grilled cheese truck and Maria from the artisan empanada operation. They dated last year, broke up spectacularly, and now they're both assigned to the same prime location."
