A Frying Shame

by Linda Reilly

  “I just know you’re going to win,” Arthur said softly, and then his brow creased. “What did you say you were making again?”

  “Deep-fried apple pies, miniature ones.”

  “Of course.” Arthur nodded. “I knew that.”

  Talia glanced toward the right-field wall, beyond the bleachers. A podium had been set up atop a makeshift stage. Above the stage, a humongous red banner bore the message STEELTOP FOODS. FIRST ANNUAL COOK-OFF & BAKE-OFF. Behind that, stretching toward the exit to the parking lot, six temporary cooking stations had been constructed. The stations ran back-to-back, three on each side. Talia had already stashed her provisions and her portable deep fryer in her assigned spot. Wrensdale Appliances had generously supplied each station with a mini-fridge, a portable burner, a microwave, and a convection oven. All would be donated to local families in need after the contest was over.

  “Okay, what does everyone want?” Ryan said. “Hot dogs? Onion rings?”

  “Can I help you carry stuff?”

  The offer came from Lucas Bartolini, Talia’s part-time employee and delivery person. She turned to see his lanky form standing behind them, one stray lock of blond hair dipping over his forehead. “Lucas, you made it! I was wondering where you were.”

  “’Course I made it!” He grinned. “I was just over at Queenie’s Variety. They have the coolest new book covers. One of them has the periodic table of the elements, which is perfect since I’ll be taking chemistry this semester. Anyway, I bought a bunch of them.” His blue-eyed gaze skimmed the field.

  Talia knew he was looking for Molly, on whom he’d developed an obvious crush. If Molly was aware, she hadn’t let on. She was older than Lucas by a few years. Talia suspected she viewed him only as a friend.

  “Believe it or not,” she said, in a mild attempt to distract him from thoughts of Molly, “I was pretty good at high school chemistry. I liked doing the lab experiments best, although the Bunsen burner scared me a little.”

  Lucas laughed, and his eyes twinkled a bit. He was such a great kid—although at twenty he was technically an adult. “Where’s Martha?” he asked. “Isn’t she coming?”

  “She’s here,” Talia said. “She’s been dying to mosey among all the crafts tables. Remember, this is her first festival. I think she’s been looking forward to it more than she admitted.”

  “Well, then.” Ryan rubbed his hands together and smiled at Lucas. “Let’s you and I make a food run.”

  The two dashed off toward the food stands just as Crystal and Molly came along with their burgers and onion rings and joined them. Molly looked adorable in a slinky pink tank top and cutoff denim shorts that showed off her shapely legs. Her long hair, darker than her mom’s, was wound into a loose French braid. The braid was a style both mother and daughter favored. Which reminded Talia—where was Audrey?

  “I took a bunch of pictures,” Molly said, holding up her phone. “This new iPhone is awesome!” She and Crystal grabbed two chairs and sat down.

  “Hey, everyone!” The voice came from Suzy Sato, the owner of Sage & Seaweed—the bath-and-body boutique on the Wrensdale Arcade. “Let’s sit here,” she said to her husband. “You know all the ladies, right, honey?”

  Kenji Sato, a quiet, slender man, greeted everyone with a round of hellos. He pulled out a chair for Suzy, and she sat down next to Talia.

  “Where’s Kimberly?” Talia asked, eager to see their darling baby girl.

  Suzy pushed a titian curl away from her face. “Ken’s mom is watching her. We were going to bring her, but she’s really still too young. With all the noise and confusion, we thought it would be too much.”

  Ken sat down and beamed at his wife. “We just celebrated her one-month birthday, didn’t we, sweetie?”

  Suzy touched his cheek. “We’ll bring her next year. We promise.” She glanced around and smiled. “Looks like this is the Wrensdale Arcade table. Maybe we should dub ourselves the Arcade Brigade! It’s the name of one of Kimberly’s books.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Talia said.

  “Hey, where’s your friend Rachel?” Suzy asked. “I thought for sure she’d be here.”

  Rachel was Talia’s longtime friend—and the significant other of the town’s police chief, Derek Westlake.

  Talia pointed at the area near home plate, where portable screens had been set up just beyond the pitcher’s mound. “She and Derek are giving batting lessons to some of the smaller kids. Derek is pitching, while Rachel does the grunt work—chasing stray balls.”

  “They sure make a cute couple, don’t they?” Suzy grinned slyly. “Just like you and Ryan. And speak of the devil—”

  Ryan and Lucas returned juggling hot dogs, grilled burgers, and mounds of fragrant-smelling onion rings, along with bottles of cold drinks. The others sought out their own goodies, and soon the scent of fried food wafted around them. It reminded Talia of how lucky she was to own a deep-fried eatery. And how much her life had changed over the past year.

  Lucas grabbed the chair next to Molly’s. Every time she smiled at him, his cheeks flamed like a barbecue grill.

  Martha spotted the group and ambled over to the table, a tattered straw hat with a McGovern button shielding her eyes from the sun. She sat down opposite Lucas, dumping a hot dog, onion rings, and a soda bottle on the table in front of her.

  “Where’d you get that?” Lucas asked her. He pointed at the oversized umbrella dangling from her wrist.

  “There’s a guy selling them over behind the cotton candy machine,” Martha said. She held it up for everyone to see. The tip of the umbrella was a carved wooden duck, so large it almost looked like the real deal. Its webbed feet had rubber soles, so that the umbrella doubled as a cane. If she walked down the street with the tip down, it would appear she was taking a stroll with a duck.

  Some good-natured teasing made the rounds. Martha finally said, “Go ahead, poke fun at it. But someday when you’re all out there in a hurricane with your cheap portable umbrellas, I’ll be the one staying dry.” She winked at Lucas. “By the way,” she said tartly, “did you all see who set up a booth near the entrance?”

  Talia swallowed a bite of hot dog and nodded. “Bruce Ferringer,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  “Ferringer the ferret?” Suzy wrinkled her nose.

  Her gesture mirrored Talia’s thoughts. Ferringer was a member of the local Select Board. Four years ago, when he was first elected, some ugly rumors had sprouted. His opponent had accused him of ballot-tampering, a charge Ferringer vehemently denied. No one could prove anything, so Ferringer got in. Now he was running for state rep in the fall election and was desperate to project a spotless image.

  “I’m with you, Suzy,” Crystal said around a sip of cola. “Can you imagine wanting to slash taxes by cutting out music classes in the schools? I mean, I’m all for lower taxes, but—” She shook her head in disgust.

  “It’s worse than that,” Molly said darkly. “Instead of funding renovations to the animal shelter, he wants to tear it down so one of his developer buddies can build a luxury condo complex.”

  Talia hadn’t been following local politics very closely, but she had heard of Ferringer’s proposal to close the shelter. “But the other area shelters won’t be able to handle the overflow!”

  “That’s right.” Molly forcefully squirted a packet of ketchup onto her onion rings. “It makes far better sense to expand the shelter we have, not close it. The man is a buffoon.”

  Talia glanced over at the area near the entrance where the Ferringers had set up shop. Skirting their oversized table was a red, white, and blue paper apron. Crepe-paper flowers in the same colors lined the bottom, while a banner with the message GO FAR WITH FERRINGER! stretched across the front. Jodie Ferringer, her husband’s junior by at least a dozen years, stood behind the table with a brilliant, cherry-lipped smile. A large blue cooler rested on the table in front of her, and she was pulling out brochures and shoving them at anyone unlucky enough to pass within range. Talia
couldn’t help chuckling at the oversized cooler. Was the woman trying to keep her precious brochures from getting too much sun?

  “She tried to give me one of those brochures,” Martha said. “When I shook my head, she slapped it into my hand anyway. I had to take it so it wouldn’t drop on the ground.” She reached into the pocket of her cotton slacks and dug out the wrinkled pamphlet. Frowning, she sniffed it and then tossed it onto the table.

  Crystal snatched it up. “What gives him the right to campaign here, anyway? Isn’t this supposed to be a fun event for everyone?” She scanned the brochure, and her brown eyes flared. “Look at this. A picture of him, his blushing bride, and his adorable little Pomeranian. Are we supposed to get the message that he loves animals, in spite of wanting to shut down the shelter?”

  “Some people will fall for it,” Molly said sourly. She looked up. “Oh, here she is—”

  An earsplitting squeal from the podium made everyone jump. “Uh, sorry, folks.” A young man tapped the microphone. “There’s, um, three cars parked near the entrance that are blocking access. Can the owners please move them? Thanks. The, um, tag numbers are H-G-7 . . .”

  The young man rattled off the first two plate numbers and was announcing the third just as Audrey Feldon approached their table. Unsmiling, she closed her eyes. “Shoot, that one’s mine,” she said quietly. Her shoulders slumped.

  Molly hopped off her chair. “I’ll move it, Mom. Give me your key.”

  “Thanks.” Audrey pulled her car key from the pocket of her drawstring capris and tossed it to her daughter.

  Talia’s gaze slid over to the Ferringer table. Bruce Ferringer was handing his car key to his wife. Jodie Ferringer looked extremely put out as she stalked off toward the parking lot.

  Audrey sat down next to Martha, her face pale and drawn. “Looks like you’ve all eaten,” she said.

  Avoiding eye contact with Audrey, Crystal said nothing. Whatever had caused the rift between the two, Talia hoped they would work it out soon.

  “Ms. Feldon, can I get you something?” Lucas asked her, his young face looking pained at her lack of food. “A burger or some rings?”

  For the first time since she’d arrived, Audrey smiled. “That’s sweet, Lucas, but I’m not very hungry. Thank you anyway.”

  “Hey, there’s my girl!” The familiar voice boomed behind Talia, just as a pair of bulky arms wrapped themselves around her in a bearlike hug. The arms squeezed for a moment and then withdrew, allowing room for a Chanel-scented cheek to press Talia’s face.

  Talia turned in her chair and gave her mom and dad a huge grin. “Hey. I wondered where you guys were. I was afraid you weren’t going to make it.”

  Natalie Marby gave her husband an affectionate roll of her dark green eyes. “Your father couldn’t decide what to wear—can you believe it? And they talk about women!”

  “Well, I could have decided,” Peter Marby quipped, “if my spouse hadn’t forgotten to wash my lucky polo shirt. Instead I was forced to choose this”—he wrinkled his nose—“T-shirt I’ve had since the dawn of time.”

  “You both look terrific,” Talia said, recognizing the dark blue tee. If memory served, he’d been wearing it since she was in high school, and it was one of his faves. She couldn’t imagine how it’d held up over all these years.

  “You know everyone, right?” Talia said.

  Hellos made the rounds, and Peter offered a hearty handshake to Ryan’s dad. “Professor Collins,” he said. “Always good to see you.”

  Arthur beamed. “And you as well, Peter.”

  Ryan and Talia exchanged pleased looks, and Ryan winked at her.

  “Can you squeeze in a couple of chairs and sit with us?” Ryan asked.

  “Aw, don’t worry about us,” Talia’s dad said. “We’re fine. We’re sitting at a table over there with some of our condo neighbors.” He dipped his full head of lush white hair at a table on the opposite side of the tent.

  “We’ll catch you later, honey,” her mom said. She lowered her glossed lips to Talia’s ear. “We’ll be cheering for you,” she whispered.

  The two Marbys waved their good-byes and hustled off to join their neighbors.

  “Your mom and dad are so lovely,” Suzy Sato said, a look of sadness filling her eyes.

  Suzy, Talia knew, had been estranged from her family for a lot of years. In college Suzy had gotten involved in a sorority hazing that had ended with the death of a young pledge. Suzy claimed she’d tried to stop it from happening, and a judge had sentenced her to community service. The rift it created in her family had never been mended. Suzy missed her folks something awful. Talia was glad Suzy had a terrific husband and a sweet baby girl to help fill the void.

  Molly returned and gave Audrey her car keys, squeezing into a chair beside her. A comfortable silence fell over the group as everyone enjoyed their lunch. Crystal seemed edgy, no doubt because she was nervous about the contest.

  “I . . . I’m sorry,” Crystal said, “but I have to find one of those portable, um, restrooms.” She glanced all around, her face turning red.

  “There’s one right at the edge of the parking lot,” Molly quietly told her. “I saw it earlier.”

  Crystal sighed. “Okay, thanks. I guess I’ll have to use it.”

  “Wait a minute,” Suzy said. She reached into her tote and dug out a packet of baby wipes. “Take these. I never go anywhere without them.”

  Crystal snatched up the wipes. “You’re a lifesaver. Thank you!” She struggled off her seat and rushed toward the parking area.

  Poor Crystal, Talia thought. Her nerves seemed to be getting the better of her.

  Talia was biting into an onion ring when she saw a stylish blonde in a revealing halter dress saunter over to their table. The woman’s makeup, while expertly applied, was a tad overdone for Talia’s liking. Her pink-painted fingernails were ridiculously long. With a haughty tilt of her chin, the woman fixed her gaze on Audrey. “Audrey,” she said, by way of greeting.

  Audrey’s face blanched. She stared at the woman for a long moment and then said quietly, “Hello, Sandra.”

  The woman seemed to be waiting for an introduction, but Audrey remained mute. Out of courtesy, Talia started to introduce herself, when the microphone squeaked again. Sandra—whoever she was—did a fast pivot toward the source of the sound. A craggy-faced man, at least six feet tall with short, dark blond hair, stood behind the podium holding a mic. Without another word, Sandra raced off toward the makeshift stage, her feet struggling to navigate the uneven ground in her wedge-style espadrilles.

  “She’s a local Realtor,” Suzy explained. “Married to Handsome Harry. Wait till y’all see him.”

  The man with the mic spoke in a low, silky voice. “Good afternoon, everyone. My name is Wesley Thurman, and I am the owner and chief operating officer of Steeltop Foods. First, I want to thank the kind folks of Wrensdale for your hospitality today. I am more than thrilled to be back here in the Berkshires to host our first annual competition.”

  Back in the Berkshires? So he did have local ties, Talia mused.

  With a “down home” kind of drawl, Thurman went on to explain how he’d started his company from an old metal-roofed building on a remote road in Iowa. He grew Steeltop Foods, literally, from the ground floor up, transforming it into the thriving food conglomerate it is today.

  “Blah, blah, blah,” Suzy quipped. “Do they all have to make a boring speech?”

  Crystal returned and quickly took her place next to Molly. Thank you, she mouthed to Suzy, returning the packet of wipes. Audrey shot Crystal a cold look, then pretended to study her watch.

  The bad vibes between the two were making Talia uncomfortable. She wished she could help, but she had no idea what their gripe was about.

  Thurman lavished praise on Wrensdale Appliances for setting up the temporary cooking stations and for supplying the equipment. Then he went on to thank the contestants for their marvelous entries.

  “It was a tough job,
but we’ve narrowed it down to six finalists. By now you all know who they are, but I’m going to introduce them anyway.” He grinned, and his gaze homed right in on their table.

  “He’s looking at us!” Crystal tittered.

  Talia smiled at her. This contest meant so much to Crystal. Talia was almost hoping she would end up the winner. Almost.

  Thurman summoned the six finalists to the stage.

  Heart pounding, Talia pushed back her chair and rose. Ryan gave her a thumbs-up, and the others wished both her and Crystal good luck with their entries.

  Molly swiped a napkin over her lips and hopped off her seat, iPhone in her hand. “I want to get some shots of the contestants. Back in a flash.”

  Her stomach in a knot, Talia followed Crystal toward the stage. She hadn’t felt this jittery in a long time. She fell in step next to a striking man with jet-black hair, stunning green eyes, and eyelashes to die for. Vivian Lavoie, a local busybody and a friend of Talia’s, was already on the stage. Plumping up her soft pewter curls, she cozied up next to Wesley Thurman as if she’d just been crowned queen.

  The only other male contestant, Dylan McPhee, slouched next to Vivian. Talia had never met him, but she knew he worked the early shift at the local diner. While his desserts were rumored to be the stuff of dreams, most of his patrons felt his personality could use a packet or two of sweetener.

  The remaining contestant, a seventysomething with stringy gray hair, was the last to step onto the stage. Her mouth twitched nervously, and her eyes darted back and forth. Pinned to her flowered cotton dress was a GO FAR WITH FERRINGER! button the size of a hubcap. She looked ready to bolt.

  “And now for the introductions,” Thurman said. “In the sweet category, the finalists are Vivian Lavoie for her spiced ginger cookies, Talia Marby for her miniature deep-fried apple pies, and Dylan McPhee for his cinnamon-swirl brownies. If you’ll step up, one at a time, I’ll give you your official instructions.” Thurman grinned at the trio, highlighting the dimple on his right side. He was attractive, Talia decided, in a rugged sort of way. His deep voice added to the allure.