One Summer: ...at Charlie's Diner (The Baker Girl Book 1)

by Mary Jane Forbes

  “So, I guess I’m fortunate that our lives touched this summer. I’ll never forget him.”

  “You’re strong, Star. You keep moving forward. You don’t let anyone beat you down.”

  “But my goals aren’t as lofty as his.”

  “Whoa. Think of the people, hundreds I dare say, you brought joy to this summer. You have a talent with the mainstay of human existence—food. Remember how the diner was dying until you came along. And now look—it’s standing room only. And the kids, the parents, everyone’s flocking to the diner because of you.” Liz grabbed Star’s hand, swinging her arm up in triumph.

  “… and Ty. You can’t leave him out of the diner’s success.”

  “Oh, that young man has such a big heart.”

  Manny smiled at the two women. “You know, Star, when you think about it, the three of you, Ash, Tyler, and yourself touched each other’s lives this summer heading in three very different directions. Yes, I’d say the three of you are lucky to have had such an experience. Don’t you, Stitch?”

  “Absolutely. And that, dear husband, is what our friend must do—look to the future. When’s the next bake-off, Star?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Well, you put a smile on that face, throw those shoulders back, and kick ass.”

  Star laughed.

  “What’s funny?” Liz asked. “I was trying to be uplifting.”

  “Ty said those exact words a couple of days ago.”

  “What did I say—that boy’s smart.”

  “You said he had heart.”

  Liz giggled, snuggling against Star’s arm. “Well, that too.”

  Chapter 38

  ────

  FRIDAY

  READY WITH STAR’S large coffee, high test, black, Tyler nervously tapped the steering wheel waiting for her to step out the door of her apartment. He was going to do his level best to pump up her adrenalin for today’s competition. He was driving his mom’s Lincoln. She told him to borrow her car whenever Star was due at the bake-off, no matter the day. Tyler offered to swap with his Harley, but Cindy only laughed—she wanted to live a little longer.

  When Star emerged a minute later, his lips turned down in a grimace. “Uh oh, my Kewpie doll doesn’t look happy.” Jumping out, he held the car door, nodded to her greeting—a very weak, “Hi.”

  Back behind the wheel, he accelerated up the street, turned south on Atlantic Avenue, turning west on International Speedway.

  He stole a quick glance as she heaved a sigh, ventured a sip of coffee. Yup, something’s up. “Are you okay?”

  Star nodded.

  “Well, you should tell your face you’re okay, because—”

  “Ash is gone.” Another sip of coffee, blank stare out the window.

  “Gone, like gone gone, or gone like gone fishing?”

  “Miami. A few months, then Michigan … probably Detroit.”

  “He said that?”

  “Word for word.”

  “Gee, kinda sudden.”

  “Oh, there’s more … later.”

  “Yeah, right. Well, here we are. Break a leg … no, I don’t mean that. Good luck. As before, I’ll be back at six unless you text me … text me anytime … you know, if you want to chat.”

  “Thanks, Ty. Have a good day.”

  He watched as she walked to the entrance, joined by another baker grasping the handle of a rolling suitcase, a foam cup of coffee in hand.

  • • •

  “GREETINGS, BAKERS.”

  Jim Whisk and Stephanie Hall, standing side by side, beamed back at the contestants. “I hope you enjoyed your day off. As you can see, we’re down to six. Two bakers withdrew after you left on Wednesday. Steph and I huddled and we decided on another change in the schedule, which, I think you will agree, will make for a dramatic finish, one that will keep the audience out in television land screaming to find out the winner.”

  Jim paused, looked from face to face. What did he expect—applause?

  “Don’t forget, ask your family and friends to come to the celebration tomorrow. They’re invited for the entire bake-off, refreshments to follow.”

  He didn’t know about the bakers, but he was excited. It would be a great final episode. A potential cliffhanger.

  “As before, you will present your final product to the judges.” Jim and Steph turned to the two celebrity chefs who were exchanging quizzical looks—another schedule change?

  “Today will be the semifinal round with a double elimination—that’s right, two of you will be sent home today.”

  The bakers looked at each other, groaning. Double elimination.

  Seemingly oblivious to the contestants’ angst, Jim continued on. Upbeat. “The big finish, the finals, the crowning of the winner of the Amateur Baking Competition, will be tomorrow. We won’t keep you on pins and needles for days and days. Tomorrow you will know which one of you wins the prize.”

  Jim and Steph smiled, swapped glances. This time his announcement of the changes was received to applause from the competitors. Received way better than they dared hoped for.

  “Now, let’s go over why we’re here—the baking. Today there will be two categories—bread and cookies. You will choose two of your personal favorites for each category. Two different loaves of bread. Two kinds of cookies, a dozen each. The savory offerings everyone in your circle of family and friends keep asking you to bake. You will have two and a half hours to bake your loaves of bread. Remember, choose your favorites. Your best. When time is called set your product at the end of your counter returning to the center of your work station. There will be a forty-five minute break between bread and cookies.

  “Today, instead of presenting the baked item to the judges they will come to you. The judges will step to your counter to rank your efforts by presentation and taste. As I said before, at the end of the day, two of you will be sent home. The remaining four competitors will return tomorrow when one of you will be crowned the winner of the Amateur Bake-off Competition.”

  Satisfied with his remarks, pleased that everyone took the changes in stride, Jim set them loose.

  “Bakers, the category is bread. Let the baking begin.”

  Activity burst throughout the hall—clanging pans, tapping of glass bowls and banging of cupboard doors and utensil drawers.

  Star flipped through Gran’s treasured recipes in the little metal recipe binder to the tab labeled bread. She found the two breads that she and Gran had baked almost every Thanksgiving—Zucchini, and a rich Greek olive and cheese. Fearing the producers hadn’t stocked the produce section with what she needed, she ran to the shelves, bins, and cabinets in the rear of the hall. Her fears were quickly allayed. The zucchinis were small, fresh, perfect. She snatched them before another baker had a chance. She had learned from the previous episodes to decide quickly on what she needed, visiting the produce, and condiment section from the shelves before anyone else.

  She returned to her station after picking out the zucchini, and what she needed for the olive and cheese loaf. If only she made it through today, she’d be in the finals tomorrow.

  As time whizzed by, the hall filled with the mouth-watering scents of baking bread.

  The loaves of bread were inspected, tasted by the judges. The decision was made.

  Star came in first.

  During her break she called Gran with the new schedule. If she wasn’t eliminated today, she’d be in the finals now scheduled for tomorrow. They had a brief conversation about cookies. Star picked out two that she and Gran baked every Christmas for the family, and had filled small tins as gifts for friends—no-bake chocolate and cocoanut drops, bourbon-almond balls rolled in powdered sugar. Gran agreed with her selections and wished her luck.

  Soon the rich aroma of cookie dough permeated the air, circling around the bakers, the judges, and Jim and Stephanie.

  At first Star was sure she wouldn’t finish in time, then again she felt she was okay, only to realize she had missed a step. She quick
ly tried to recover the time.

  Suddenly Jim called out, “Five minutes, bakers.”

  “Two minutes, bakers.”

  “One minute, bakers. Put your cookie platters at the end of your counter.”

  Somehow she had managed to block from her mind everything that happened the day before—Ash, his grandmother, all of the secrets, the agonies, and the words running and rerunning—when are leaving?—tomorrow!

  The judges again made the rounds to each baker, sampling, judging, commenting. Jim, Stephanie, and the judges huddled.

  Jim picked up the microphone. First, he gave the names of the bakers who were sent home. A young girl was one—she was so stressed during the competition she burned one loaf of bread, and most of her cookies.

  Then, not wasting any time, he announced the cookie winner.

  Star came in second.

  She was in the finals.

  So, the finalists numbered four.

  One of the remaining bakers had suffered burns on her hand while removing a sheet of cookies from the oven. The baker said she didn’t care if she had to bake with one hand, she’d be back tomorrow.

  The day’s competition was over.

  Star barely had enough energy to put Gran’s recipe book in her duffel bag. Jim hadn’t said what the category would be for the finals, but if she had to bet, she’d bet it would be baker’s choice.

  Her choice—Gran’s taffy.

  Taking one last inventory of the supply shelves she stumbled out to the car. Ty gallantly held the car door for her.

  Tyler didn’t talk.

  Star didn’t talk, dosing off the minute she laid back against the headrest.

  Chapter 39

  ────

  EVERYONE HAD LEFT—the bakers and the cameramen.

  Jim sipped a beer. Stephanie uncapped an icy bottle of water. They sat on scratched gray-metal folding chairs in the back office going over the remaining hours of the competition.

  “Today went well, don’t you think, Steph?”

  “We were lucky, Jim. I spoke to the owner of the building. Told him we would vacate by six o’clock tomorrow night. I asked him to meet us, check out the premises, and return our damage deposit.”

  “You were so smart to write in an escape clause, Steph. Thank heavens, no further requirement for the space. What about the rental company? All the stations—refrigerators, ovens?”

  “Five o’clock tomorrow afternoon the truck will roll in—pack up and roll out. I didn’t say anything to the cameramen, but they obviously know their gig will end because of your announcement—the competition finals. They may assume we would like additional shots. A wrong assumption. They will hand over the flash drives with the files, all the episodes, and we give them the final check.”

  They sighed in unison. Jim took another sip of beer.

  Stephanie took a swig from her bottled water.

  “I do have some good news, very good news,” Stephanie said recapping her bottle. “The Orlando cable news network, actually, there are three that accepted my invitation to be on hand tomorrow—film background during the day and interview the winner at the end. Also the local paper, The News Journal, is sending a reporter along with a cameraman. But the really, really big news … ”

  “Yes? The really big news is?”

  “Our agent emailed me that maybe we’ll have a contract to sign after all, as in tomorrow. A contract for syndication of the Florida Amateur Baker Competition Series.”

  Jim jumped up, threw his hands in the air, crossed his hands behind his neck, looked to the ceiling, shut his eyes. “Oh my God … syndication!”

  Chapter 40

  ────

  TYLER TURNED DOWN Star’s street and pulled to the curb. “Well, who do we have here?” He nudged Star with his elbow. “Star, wake up. Of course, I could be mistaken, but from what you’ve said about her, I think your grandmother is standing at your front door.”

  “What?” Star stretched, yawned, rubbed her eyes. “My grandmother? GRAN?”

  Star screamed, jumped from the car, ran to her Gran’s open arms.

  “Gran, Gran, you don’t know how happy I am to see you. But we talked earlier. How did you get here so fast?”

  “Cell phones are wonderful. You didn’t know but I was already on my way. I was about to board a plane.”

  Tyler stood back, holding her duffle bag, shifting from foot to foot.

  Gran saw the man standing by the car, looking a bit uncertain as to whether he should join them or ...

  “Star dear, the young man—”

  “Oh, yes … Tyler, come here. Meet my Gran. Gran this is Tyler Jackman—my lifesaver.

  “Hello, Tyler. Star talks about you all the time. I believe you are Star’s cherry lifesaver. Me, maybe lemon. A little tart.” Gran laughed encasing him in a warm hug.

  Not knowing what he should do with his arms, Tyler hugged her back. “Are you two hungry? I can take you out or—”

  “Ty, could you run up to the corner, get a pizza, then join us for dinner. I’m sure Gran’s tired and I can barely move.”

  “Sure, sure. Thanks. I’d like that. Back in a flash. But I won’t stay. You two have a lot to catch up on … and planning for the finals. I believe you said something about your Gran’s taffy,” he said with a broad smile.

  Gran hugged him again.

  Star stood with tears streaming down her face … Gran was with her. “My support team,” she managed to say giving Ty a hug.

  “Well, maybe I can stay for a couple of slices.”

  Chapter 41

  ────

  TYLER POKED HIS HEAD in the kitchen, said hi to his mom and dad, scratched Cleo behind the ears. “One more day, Mom. The final bake-off is tomorrow and Star’s still in the running. Took a first and a second today.”

  Cindy clapped her hands. “That’s wonderful, isn’t it, Tony.”

  “It sure is. Will it be all right if your mom and I come to watch the finals?”

  “What do you think, Tyler? But, we wouldn’t want to impose.”

  “I think she’d love you both to be there. Guess what.”

  “What, dear?”

  “Her grandmother flew in today from Hoboken. Can you believe it? You should have heard the two of them—chattering like magpies. Two minutes earlier Star was asleep in the car as I drove her home. Then, there she was standing at her front door. We all had pizza. It was a riot. She’s a very nice lady. You’ll like her, and I think she’d like to sit with you. Anyway, I’ll ask Star in the morning when would be a good time. My guess is, when I pick up Star in the morning, I pick up her grandmother, too. She’ll probably be there all day.”

  “Your mom and I were just having a glass of wine,” Tony said topping off their glasses. “Would you like a glass?”

  “Nah, thanks. I have an open bottle upstairs.”

  “Cindy, how about we take everyone to dinner after the competition—win, lose, or draw?”

  “Tony, that’s a wonderful idea. Star will be tired, so nothing too fancy. Tyler, text me with whatever Star would like?”

  “I will, Mom. Thanks again for the use of the car—one more day. I’m heading up. See you when I see you … tomorrow. I’ll text.”

  “You have some mail, dear. I put it by your computer.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  Tyler kissed his mom, hugged his dad, and ambled up to his studio.

  Hitting three buttons on the panel by the door—the indirect lighting came on, the ceiling fan began to stir the air, and the AC clicked in. Tyler noted it wasn’t very hot … his mom had turned down the AC anticipating his arrival. He poured a glass of wine, unlaced his sneakers, kicking them off under the table, picked up the mail and settled in his lounger.

  He flicked through the envelopes, flyers, registration return card for his new 3-D printer, and a letter from California.

  A LETTER POSTMARKED BURBANK CALIFORNIA!!

  Tyler jumped up, slit the envelope, and read the enclose
d letter.

  Dear Mr. Tyler Jackman,

  We will be sending you an email early next week with the particulars of our offer, an offer to join us on a project we have just signed with DreamWorks.

  Our firm will act as a subcontractor on a new feature animated film.

  We were very impressed with your submission: The Little Baker Girl. In fact, we’d like to discuss developing the story into a short film.

  If possible, can you join us by September 1. We will pay for your travel and living expenses for the first three months, along with a salary. All of this will be explained in the email.

  We look forward to hearing from you after you receive this letter and the following email. Hopefully you will accept our offer. If your answer is yes, you will receive a check to cover your relocation expenses. In the meantime, please call with any questions. I’m sure you have some.

  Sincerely,

  Thomas Dodd

  Production Coordinator

  “Mom! Dad! Mom, Mom, Dad,” Tyler yelled, scrambling out of his studio, down the circular staircase, through the dining room, into the kitchen.

  “Look at this. Read. Read. Do you think it’s real?”

  His dad reached for the letter his son was waving at him. Snaring it from his fingers, he and Cindy, heads together, read the letter. Looking at each other then turning to Tyler, the three did a group hug after Tyler finally stopped jumping up and down.

  Chapter 42

  ────

  SATURDAY

  GRINNING, A GRIN THAT wouldn’t stop, Tyler pulled to the curb in front of Star’s building. Hopping out of the car, he raced to the door, hand raised to knock as the door swung open. Chattering, Star and Gran stepped out into the brilliant morning sunshine. Giving Tyler a hug, the pair continued walking to the car, Star pulling a large roll-along case. The topic—what categories would the producers pick for the bake-off finals, and what recipes Star should choose?