Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
It’s not about the ribbons.
It’s not about the pies.
He’s smiling because he’s so proud of us. We did this together as a team.
Dulcie takes my hand, lets out a squeal, and rushes over to her dad. She gathers her mom along the way and gives us a group hug like mad right in front of our award-winning pies. Words are so inadequate. Her shining eyes speak volumes without them.
People mill all around the center. It’s a fair, and we’re inside, right after the ribbons were handed out. The whole thing drew quite a crowd. There are rides outside, games, stands with caramel and candy apples, cotton candy, popcorn, and freshly squeezed lemonade. The large area isn’t just set up for pie judging. There are many different booths set up trade show style, selling everything from tea to cleaning products, bags to dip mixes. And most likely thousands of other things.
Marietta showed up, folks.
Dulcie has reclaimed some of her goth phase. She had all the clothes, and they weren’t cheap, so why not? She’s wearing a knee-length peplum black velvet dress today, and her long hair is up, with some tendrils left down to frame her face. Her overall makeup is minimal, just heavy on the eyeliner to complete the look.
She takes my hand after she releases her parents from the family group hug. “Luca and I are just going to walk around for a bit. Maybe go on a few rides. I definitely want an elephant ear.”
Archie snorts, mock offended. “I could bake you one whenever you like!”
“Dad,” she responds with a wry grin. “I know that, but today’s your day off. And I want one that’s been fried and tastes a little bit like old oil and fairground dust. It’s just not the same experience if you don’t have one here.”
“It’s a tradition.” Dulcie’s mom pokes her dad in the ribs. “For her to get one and for you to complain.”
“Are you guys heading home, or are you going to be brave enough to finally do the Ferris wheel?” Dulcie winks at me. “For a decade, they’ve been saying they’re going to do it.”
“This year’s the year,” Archie vows. He studies the ribbons in his hand, then passes them over to us like an offering.
My heart pings against my ribs.
“Oh, Dad!” Dulcie gasps. “No way. We’re not taking those.”
“Just for safekeeping. The wind at the top of the Ferris wheel is probably strong. I don’t want to take a chance that they’ll blow away.”
She laughs, hugs her dad, then launches herself at her mom, her pure joy evident in the enthusiastic shuffling of her feet. “In that case, I’ll tuck them into my bag. I’ll keep them safe. I swear. They’re going to hang proudly in the bakery, and first thing in the morning, I’m going to update the website and put the blue-ribbon-winning carrot and Early Grey pies on for purchase.”
Over the past few weeks, we haven’t just been busy developing new flavors of pies and baking, baking, baking. Archie, Susan, and I spent long days in the kitchen. Dulcie did too, but she also spent long hours locked away in the small office at the back of the bakery, revamping the website. She also put together a marketing campaign that she planned on launching the day after the Pi and Pie Science and Food Fair, even if we didn’t win anything at all.
This year, they made an announcement right at the start of the day. There is no longer a Pie Master title. It was problematic the past few years, with people starting fights and challenging the rulings, so this year, they went back to solely doing ribbons. I never participated in one of these because they started after I’d already left, when the fair was revamped. Dulcie tried to explain how the judging worked, but it didn’t make a whole lot of sense in my mind. It was easy to see how there could be room for error and disputes.
“Good luck on the Ferris wheel,” Dulcie wishes her parents. “We might even see you there. If not, though, I’ll be back at the house later. I won’t be too late. I want to have time to get the promos up and running and make sure the website gets its updates, including all the photos from today.”
“Luca,” Archie says, happiness erasing the deep lines that have bracketed his eyes and mouth, and been etched into his forehead over these past few weeks. “Make sure my daughter has the most wonderful evening. No work should be done. This is a celebration. Not just of these ribbons, but of our family.”
Dulcie rolls her eyes. “I think I should have a say in that.” She fists her hands on her hips. “But I guess I can wait until tomorrow morning.”
“Alright then. Enjoy your elephant ears baked by a stranger.” Archie’s nose wrinkles. “Have a wonderful time.”