by Anne Hagan
There were nods all around as the four bakers each took a side of the cake board.
“One, two, three!” Sandy called out.
They lifted the cake smoothly several inches up off the cart and transferred it to the slightly higher display table, covered in white linen cloths that just barely brushed the floor.
Once they had it turned just so, to be seen from the best angle by the public, the other duo went back to their own cake leaving Hannah and Morgan alone. They stood by quietly until the last cake entered the room and then they offered their own assistance to make the transfer from cart to table.
Chef Tomas walked up and down the line, smiling. “They look wonderful. You’ve all made me proud. Now then, you have about thirty minutes to do anything with them that you planned for after they were in place and then, surprise, your clients will be let in here to see them. Let’s get to work!”
Hannah shot Morgan a wide-eyed look.
Morgan said, “We should have figured he was coming. Wouldn’t it be nice if it was Mr. Barnwell instead of Mr. West?”
Hannah just shook her head as she took hold of the cart and headed for the door to get the cupcakes and a few small decorations they’d decided on.
MORGAN FINISHED LETTERING their sign just as the sponsors started streaming in at the far end of the hall. She placed it down in front of their display table as her classmates had done and then moved around to the front side of the glass viewing wall to join Hannah.
“I’m nervous,” Hannah whispered. What if he hates it?”
“He won’t.”
“We’re about to find out,” Hannah said. “Here comes Mr. West.”
The majority of the sponsors started at one end of the line and walked down it, looking at all of the cakes but West made a beeline directly for them.
“This better be good,” he said in a low voice. “Mr. Barnwell will be here in just a couple of minutes.”
As the two young women started to step aside so he could see their creation, Chef Tomas joined them. He placed a hand on Garrett West’s shoulder, him to jump. West whirled around, saying, “Mr. Barnwell, that was...” only to realize it was Fourneir and not his boss.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” Chef Tomas said then gave West a tight-lipped smile.
“You didn’t. I just thought you were my boss, is all,” West lied.
Fournier ignored it. “They’ve done very well. I’m sure Mr. Barnwell will be very pleased.”
Morgan and Hannah stepped aside so West could get a full view of the cake. The chef remained right beside him.
West said nothing as he stared through the glass for several long seconds at the “Christmas Dad” cake they’d created of a thin, dark haired man, dressed in a Santa suit, his fake beard hanging below his clean-shaven chin, as he bent low over a new bicycle in pieces before him, the family Christmas tree in the background. On the other side of a wall, a small boy slept soundly dreaming of bicycles and fire trucks.
“Is that...is that Michael Barnwell?” he asked.
Morgan smiled. “A little younger, but yes. I made him from a photo I found online.”
West shook his head. “Wow. I had no idea.
Chef Tomas smiled with satisfaction and turned to go but noticed Michael Barnwell himself entering the hall. He waved him over.
The four of them parted, standing back and said nothing at all while Barnwell viewed the cake.
He picked up on the significance even more quickly than Garrett West had. “By golly, that looks just like me, twenty, twenty-five years and 40 pounds ago!” He turned to look at Hannah and Morgan, shaking his head in wonder. “How the hell did you do that?”
Looking back at the cake, he marveled some more. “Incredible! And all the cupcakes too. Did everyone do those?” He glanced up and down the line of cakes, answering his own question.
“Christmas Dad. A rum raisin cake surrounded by orange spice, red velvet, white chocolate peppermint, chocolate cherry and chocolate chili pepper cupcakes,” he read from the sign. “Unbelievable.”
“WE’RE DONE EARLIER than I thought,” Hannah said as they walked outside to her car. “Do you want to go and grab a hot chocolate or something before I run you back over to your car?” she asked Morgan, hope shining in her eyes.
“They liked it, and the cupcakes but it isn’t really over ‘till the auction, you know,” Morgan said. “West still seemed a little put off that we didn’t follow his ‘vision’ for the cake.”
“It’s there now. The public gets to see it and then the auction. Do you think the public will get to vote on the cakes like they do for the trees?” She glanced to her right at Morgan but the other woman just shrugged.
“I’M SORRY I’VE BEEN a little distant,” Morgan said.
Hannah blew across the top of her cup. “It’s okay.”
“No. It’s not right. It’s just...I’ve had a lot on my mind. Something happened and it’s all I can think about. I don’t know what to do.”
“What happened? Do you want to talk about it?”
Morgan hunched forward in her chair, her own cocoa all but forgotten. “I...I ran into Frank, er, he ran into me.”
“Frank?”
“Espy’s dad...father...”
“Oh.” Hannah didn’t know what else to say. She busied herself with the thin, wooden stir in her cocoa instead.
“It was at work. He was there for dinner with his new boss. He’s working for some big, la de da developer now...I don’t even know what he’s doing for them but, whatever. Anyway, he introduces me to his boss and I find out he’s been showing pictures of Espy around. And, get this, he got them from my mother! That really burned me up.”
“I can’t believe your mother would do that.”
“You obviously haven’t met her. This is the kind of stuff that really irritates me about her but...well, I called Frank after work to have it out with him privately rather than in front of his boss. He said a lot of things...”
Hannah watched Morgan’s face closely as she asked, “What sort of things?”
Morgan took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. “He wants me and Espy...Esperanza, as he insists I call her, to come and live with him; be a family.”
Momentarily stunned by the revelation, Hannah managed to recover and ask, “And that’s what you’ve been thinking about?”
“Yeah.”
Hannah looked off to her left, out the window and bit her bottom lip.
“I don’t know if I’m going to do it.”
Looking back at her, Hannah reminded her quietly, “You’re gay Morgan. How are you going to manage that?”
“Look, I said I don’t know if I’m going to do it or not and, he doesn’t know that. He thinks I’m bi.” She continued on, in a rush of words, “He’s not a bad guy. I can tolerate him. He was always good to me, not abusive and I think he’ll be good to Espy once he gets to know her...finally. I mean, he is her father. She needs him in her life more than she needs my mother.”
“That’s what this is really all about, isn’t it? It’s not about what’s best for your daughter at all. It’s because you want away from your mother.”
“I’m just looking at all my options.”
“Morgan, in less than six months, we’ll be graduating. You can find that job and follow your dream.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t know that I can stay there another six months and then there’s trying to find a job and...and besides, he said I could still go to school. He wants me to finish. He said he’d help me.”
“It sounds like he has everything planned out for you.”
Morgan rolled her eyes. “Don’t be like that. He wants to be with his daughter and he’s just trying to help.”
“Your mind is made up.”
“No.”
“Sure seems that way.”
Morgan stood and put her coat on. “I guess maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.” She moved away from the table.
“Where are you
going?” Hannah called after her. “Wait. I’ll drive you.”
“No thanks. It’s three blocks from here. I can take care of myself.”
Chapter 16
Later Thursday Evening
Morelville, Ohio
“How’d the unveiling go?” Dana asked, before Hannah even made it all the way into the living room.
Mel looked up from the reports she’d been reading, her interest also plain on her face.
“Okay, I guess,” Hannah told them. “Mr. Barnwell really liked the cake and all the cupcakes. I think he would have eaten one of each if we had let him.” She cracked a small smile at that but then went right back to her more serious tone as she moved toward the other end of the sofa from where Dana sat. “Garrett West seemed to like the cake but we could tell he was a little disappointed.”
“The cupcakes didn’t sway him, huh?” Mel asked.
Hannah shook her head. “He liked those well enough but...I don’t know. We’ll see.”
Dana slid a little closer and laid a hand briefly on Hannah’s shoulder. “It’s Barnwell’s opinion that really counts. When will you find out your...your grade, I guess?”
“I don’t think we were being graded. Chef never really said.” She looked off at the television playing quietly across the room without actually seeing it.
Mel looked back down at her papers.
Dana leaned back and laced an arm along the back of the couch. She touched Hannah’s shoulder again. “What else is going on?”
“Pardon?” Hannah asked.
“Talk to me. Something’s got you down. Anything I can help with? We can help with?” She tipped her chin toward Mel.
The other woman looked up. “Huh? Sorry...”
“Girl trouble?” Dana prodded.
Hannah blew out a breath.
“That’s all you, babe,” Mel said.
Dana shot her a look.
“It’s true,” Mel said. “If it weren’t for you, my ‘stalker’ would probably still be hounding me and I’d be wifeless in the bargain.” She made a pouty face.
Hannah had to laugh at that.
“It’s Morgan,” Hannah admitted. “We were starting to...starting to...I don’t know; what’s the word?”
“Hit it off?” Dana asked.
“Yes. That. Now everything has changed and I just think she’s going to make a big mistake but she won’t listen.” Hannah told them about Morgan’s dilemma.
“Please don’t tell her I told you anything,” she finished.
Dana said, “Of course not.”
Mel put down her reports. “Maybe I really can help here.” She paused and waited until she had Hannah’s attention. “Frankly,” she said, “it hasn’t been easy for Dana and I. My dad, is our only real supporter on my side. If it weren’t for Dana’s folks moving up here and being as accepting as they are, I have a feeling my mom wouldn’t be half as involved in our lives as she is. She loves Dana, don’t get me wrong, but she has a very hard time accepting that I’m gay and accepting our whole relationship.”
Dana nodded along with everything Mel said. “It’s true. And, Kris has been tough on her...”
“On us,” Mel interrupted.
“On us too. The kids and Lance are fine but she still skeeves when I call Mel, ‘babe’.”
“I guess I hadn’t realized that,” Hannah said.
“Can’t you feel yourself, some of what Morgan is feeling yourself with your own family?” Dana asked.
“I can go back there and they do talk to me if I do. I just can’t...well, you know. I can’t circulate among other Amish.”
“You know what I mean though? Do your parents really accept that you’re a lesbian?”
Hannah’s face colored. “No.”
“You’re strong. You were very independent when I met you, even though you were with Jamie.
Maybe Morgan isn’t as strong, isn’t in that place yet. All you can really do is support her. Let her know that you care and your there for her. Me too. Whatever she needs.”
Mel nodded. “Yes. Anything.”
“Thanks,” Hannah said, as she looked from one to the other.
“Morgan and her daughter are welcome here any time...if they need a break...whatever,” Mel offered. “Let her know that.”
HANNAH STARTED TO TEXT Morgan and then thought better of it. She picked up the house phone and called her instead then waited while the other woman’s phone rang four times. When her voice mail came on, she hesitated but then left a halting message.
“It’s me, Hannah. I hope you get this. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for upsetting you. I didn’t mean to. If...if you want someone to talk to or if you just want to...to get together or something, you can call me. You can come down here even, if you want. Okay...well, bye.”
She hung up and then stood staring at the handset for several minutes. It didn’t ring.
Chapter 17
Saturday Evening, December 5th
Zanesville Technical College and Culinary Institute
Several of the students were milling around, unsure what stations to take when Chef Tomas walked into the room. Hannah stood at her usual place but Morgan, one of those adrift, hung over to one side of the room, alone, not looking at anyone, most of all, her.
“Good evening,” Fourneir called out, as he usually did.
“Good evening Chef!” They all roared back.
He laughed. “Still exuberant from your successful deliveries and client presentations, I see. Everyone take your spots, with your teammates. Let’s talk about that.”
Hannah didn’t dare look to her left as Morgan slid into place. but her body betrayed her. A shiver ran up her spine and her skin tingled all over as the brunette joined her.
“First, I’d like to do a little something military people like to call an ‘After Action Review,’ the chef said. “Let’s talk about what went well and what we can do better if we do something like this in the future. I’ll start over here.” He pointed to the male student on the left at the left front workstation as he flipped a notebook open with his other hand. “Tell me something that went well.”
“The transportation of the cakes was good Chef. I was worried we’d have a mess but everything got over to the convention center pretty much intact.”
“So,” Fourneir said, “Kudos for the moving and delivery company?” There were nods all around the room.
He pointed next to Sandy, his partner. “Ms. Teeter; what is something we could do better?”
“Easy one Chef. We should set up to make the cakes on site for something like this.”
He raised a brow. “Sort of like one of those baking competitions?”
“No; not like that but, now that I think about it, it might be fun for people to watch us, competition or not.”
“What was your original thinking?”
“Freshness,” she said. “We baked and decorated in class on Tuesday and some people were here early Thursday as well to finish up. These cakes won’t be auctioned until tomorrow evening. I’m thinking most of the winners will want to take them home or to work and show them off so it will be Monday before some of them are eaten, nearly a week after they were baked.”
Fourneir nodded several times. “Very valid points.” He moved on across the other six students in the front row and then back to the left side of the second row before coming back over to Hannah and Morgan in the second row, on the right side.
“Ms. Yoder,” he called to Hannah, “Something you thought we did well?”
Hannah wracked her brain for something that hadn’t already been said. “I...I liked working in teams. It might have helped to have three people to do even more.”
“Uh, uh, uh,” Chef Tomas waved his index finger in the air. “That’s a good and a bad.”
“Sorry Chef.”
Fourneir smiled and moved on to Morgan. “Do you want to take on Ms. Yoder’s ‘bad’ Ms. Barber or do you have a different observation to share?”
&nbs
p; Morgan glanced at Hannah before speaking up. “We...we had a pretty difficult client. I know there are always going to be tough customers...not sure what we could have done differently.”
Chef Tomas shook his head and smiled again. “Actually, you two handled yourselves very well. Very well indeed.”
“With your help, Chef,” Hannah said.
“Yes. For the benefit of the rest of the class, I admit that I did step in, but only because I didn’t want to see students being taken advantage of.” He paused a couple of beats as he looked around the room. “You’re going to have difficult customers at your restaurants, your bakeries, in your catering businesses, what have you. Out there, in business, you will learn how to handle that,” he said as he looked around the room. “Some of you are nodding so you know. You already know. Here, at the school, it’s a little bit different. We’re here to teach you how to make great food and wonderful pastry. The rest of that stuff can wait. It’s not the focus here.”
“That brings me to another point,” he said. “You all did really well with your cakes. Many of you received high praise from your clients. Very high praise.”
He stepped back a little, looked at Hannah and then at Morgan and then addressed the class again. “Based on my observations and on the client reports, the highest praise goes to Ms. Yoder and Mrs. Barber. Would you two come up here please?”
The two young women glanced at each other, shocked. Hannah moved from behind their workstation into the center aisle and began the short walk to the front of the room in a daze. Morgan followed her.
Fourneir kept talking while they moved toward him. “Despite the difficulties they had with their client, Ms. Yoder and Ms. Barber represented grace under pressure. They were calm, they handled the client well and they stayed true to their vision, turning out an excellent cake and far more than was required by the assignment with the cupcakes. The owner was very impressed with their showing.”
Hannah stole a glance at Morgan. The slightly taller woman stood staring off at the far wall of ovens in the classroom, not blinking.
