Delicious Destiny

by Yahrah St. John

“I’m confident we can create a cake from any country,” Carter replied.

  “You sure are cocky when you have no idea what country they could pick, let alone what mystery ingredient,” Drake said. “They could give you something like India or China, then what would you do?”

  “Make it work!” Carter replied. “Because that’s what I do. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’ve been baking a tad bit longer than you.”

  “Now, now,” Grandma Lillian admonished. “This competition is supposed to bring us together.”

  “And it will, Grandma,” Drake replied. “It’s just healthy competition between cousins.”

  “So who’s doing this next round?” Shari asked. “Have you guys decided?”

  “We are here just for moral support,” Grandma Lillian replied, motioning to her husband and son Dwight. “I want my grandchildren to rise to the occasion. They’ve decided this round will be you, Carter and Belinda.”

  “What about me?” Monica inquired. She’d been learning the ropes of the bakery the past couple of years and was starting to become a decent baker.

  “Maybe next round, kid,” Carter replied. “This competition is for the big boys.”

  Monica frowned at her older cousin. “I’m no child,” Monica replied. “I want to bake in the next round.”

  “Of course you can,” Grandma Lillian replied. “This is a family operation. And you would all do best to remember that.” She looked around at all her grandchildren, paying particular attention to Carter.

  Carter rolled his eyes upward, but didn’t say anything more that might upset their grandmother. Matter of fact, she’d put everyone in their place and they’d all settled into a quiet silence and left the restaurant.

  * * *

  An hour later, the Drayson family, Brown Sugar Bakery, Delovely Cakemakers and Bliss were standing in front of Brandon, the host for You Take the Cake. “Are you guys ready for another round of cakes around the world?”

  “Yes,” the bakers said in unison as they assembled behind their stations complete with industrial-size mixers, large mixing bowls, spatulas and cake pans.

  Shari was excited about the day and determined to show off her talents. The past couple of days, Carter and Belinda had really shined. Now it was time for Shari’s place in the sun.

  “Your country today is Italy,” Brandon announced. “As in previous rounds, you’ll be judged on presentation, taste and creativity. If everyone is ready, open your boxes to show your mystery ingredients. We’ll be asking you to come up with a miniature-size cake that incorporates these ingredients while being true to Italy.”

  Shari reached for the box first and pulled out carob, avocado and salsa. “What the heck?” What were they supposed to do with salsa?

  “Don’t worry,” Carter whispered in her ear. “I’ve got an idea.”

  Shari, Carter and Belinda huddled together for several minutes and once they had a plan formulated, they went into action. Carter went about making a Buccellato, an Italian cake synonymous with Sicily, and would incorporate a savory salsa. Shari went for the avocado, so she could show her range of baking.

  Belinda gave her a raised brow as if she was surprised Shari didn’t go for the safe choice—the carob, which was a healthy form of chocolate. “I’m going to make a killer Tiramisu,” Belinda told Shari.

  “That’s great.” Shari ignored her cousin and proceeded to prepare her avocado cake with a sunflower-butter-cream frosting.

  After they completed the first challenge, Shari, Carter and Belinda watched as the judges sampled their creations. The judges praised the texture of Belinda’s carob tiramisu. When the judges came to her avocado cake, Shari’s heart leaped in her throat.

  “Very nice,” the judge said. “Just the right amount of avocado. It doesn’t overpower the cake. It’s light and airy. Delicious.”

  “Thank you.” Shari smiled and glanced at Carter.

  And then her heart deflated almost immediately when another judge added, “Although it was moist and delicious, I would have loved to have seen some candied sunflowers on the top for that added crunch.”

  Shari nodded, but didn’t say a word.

  She was nervous when they reached for Carter’s miniature Buccellato. Though it was typically made with honey, Marsala and raisins, Carter had switched out the Marsala for savory salsa.

  “Inventive,” the judges both proclaimed. “A very creative way to use the mystery ingredient. I’m impressed. I might have to steal the recipe for myself.”

  Shari’s heart sank. Despite her good showing, her cousins still managed to outshine her. Shari plastered a smile on her face as Carter’s and Belinda’s work would ensure Lillian’s continued to the next round.

  After their critiques, they had a thirty-minute break before the next challenge of making a traditional Italian wedding cake large enough to feed two hundred guests. They decided to go with thick cream cheese frosting over a decadent white cake infused with coconut.

  Shari stepped away from the kitchen studio for a much-needed break. The judge’s critique upset her and deep down she knew why. She was letting her insecurities about her baking skills and her place at Lillian’s define her. She would have to stop yielding to her cousins at every turn and take the lead. But how could she when she was always so used to letting them win?

  Chapter 10

  From the other side of the room, Grant watched as Shari walked off the set. He’d just walked in with Andre so he could see Shari in action for himself. The judges had given Lillian’s an enthusiastic thumbs-up for all their creations. The other teams had fared pretty well, including Brown Sugar Bakery, whose cassata and panettone had won equally good praise. He was about to come forward when he saw Shari leave the studio. On stage, he noticed that her smile seemed forced and didn’t completely reach her eyes.

  The more time he spent with Shari, the more he was able to discern her moods. She was upset, but why? Lillian’s was obviously doing well.

  Andre tugged on his hand. Grant looked down at his son.

  “Can I go on set, Daddy?” Andre inquired.

  “Sure, just let me find your mommy first,” Grant said. As he looked around, he noticed his ex-wife sashaying toward him.

  He frowned. This was not a reunion he wanted to have right now. He needed to find Shari and find out what was wrong. He stepped to the right to move past Dina, but she didn’t budge.

  “Grant.” Dina inclined her head.

  “Dina.” He hadn’t seen his ex-wife since that day in court when they’d both agreed to a divorce and signed the papers. His parents hadn’t been happy about his failed marriage but Grant couldn’t care less. He should never have married Dina to begin with.

  “Is this your son?” Dina asked, bending down until she was Andre’s height. She stared at the young boy in a red polo shirt and blue jean shorts. “Of course he is. With those green eyes and dimples, he looks just like you.”

  Grant leaned down and whispered to Andre. “You see your grandma in the corner?”

  Andre nodded.

  “Go sit with her until I’m finished, okay?”

  “Okay, Daddy.”

  Grant watched Andre walk across the stage until he was safely in his grandmother’s arms. He noticed that Lillian Reynolds-Drayson gave him a long glare once she saw who he was talking to.

  He turned to face Dina. “What do you want?”

  “Is that how you greet your ex-wife who you haven’t seen in years?” She leaned into him for a hug, but Grant stepped backward.

  “It’s how I treat someone who lied to me,” Grant responded, stepping away from the cameras and moving into the corner of the stage.

  “Lied to you?”

  “Oh, c’mon, Dina.” Grant gave her a sardonic glare. “Don’t play dumb. I know what you did five years ago.�
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  Dina stared behind Grant at his son. “Do you mean your son? Because if you’re saying that I knew Shari was pregnant, then you’re wrong. I had no idea.”

  Grant couldn’t believe Dina’s nerve. “You’re actually going to stand there and lie to my face after you’ve been caught? You were her roommate, Dina. Of course you knew. But you had an agenda and you weren’t going to let my child get in your way.”

  Dina shook her head fervently. “That’s not true. And I told Shari the same thing.”

  “Really? And you would have stepped aside had you known? I don’t think so. You made sure I thought Shari was off-limits by telling me that she was engaged to that Thomas guy. You deliberately misled me. Why should I believe that you didn’t go so far as to keep me from my child?”

  “I would never do that.”

  “So you say, Dina. So you say. Did you even love me at all?” Despite himself, Grant’s voice rose. “Or was I just a challenge for you to steal away from Shari?”

  Grant didn’t notice that You Take the Cake’s producer, a large, lanky fellow with spectacles, was standing a few yards from him and Dina trying to look inconspicuous as he listened to their conversation. Nor did he see Shari who’d returned from taking a breath of fresh air, standing behind the curtain.

  “Why do the two of you want to rewrite history and act like I kept two lovebirds apart?” Dina asked bitterly. “Because we both know that’s a lie, Grant. You liked what I had to offer.” She glided her hands down her side. “The beauty, the brains... Matter of fact—” she paused, bringing her index finger to her mouth “—I recall you couldn’t get enough of me.” She circled around him. “Or had you forgotten that fact?”

  “That isn’t what this is about, Dina,” Grant said, his face turning red at Dina’s boldness. “It’s about your lies and deception about Shari.”

  “Shari? You had a one-night stand with her, which was nothing more than a cheap hookup and she happened to get pregnant. You two had nothing in common. She was a mousy undergrad who was afraid of her own shadow back then. Hell, she still is. She’s so afraid of never being good enough. She can’t even take the heat in the kitchen.” Dina pointed to the studio kitchen. “Don’t go blaming me because you jumped out of her bed into mine. You’re the reason you missed out on your son’s life, not me.”

  Dina stormed away from Grant.

  Grant stared at her retreating figure. Dina had a point. He had made the stupid decision of getting involved with Dina so soon after his night with Shari. Of course Shari would be upset that he’d hooked up with her best friend. He was partially to blame, but he wasn’t alone. Dina had ensured he would not pursue Shari by lying to him about Shari’s relationship with Thomas, thereby ensuring he’d run into her arms.

  Grant wanted to go after Dina and tell her another thing or two, but when he looked up, he noticed they’d had an audience. Several members of the crew were standing nearby. How long had they been there? Grant didn’t want to cause another scene and chose not to go after Dina. Instead, he walked over to Lillian.

  “Everything okay?” she asked, playing with Andre and his action figures.

  “Everything’s fine,” Grant said curtly. Or it would be. He owed Shari an apology. He’d put all the blame on her and Dina for lying and keeping the truth from him when he wasn’t completely blameless, either. They’d all contributed to Andre growing up without him. But that would never happen again. He was determined more than ever to make his marriage to Shari work.

  * * *

  “Did you see the fireworks between that man and Dina English, the owner of Brown Sugar Bakery?” the producer asked Drew, the director of You Take the Cake.

  “I did hear raised voices, but I was a little preoccupied.”

  “I think there’s a gold mine here,” the producer said. “There’s some tension between Lillian’s and Brown Sugar Bakery. I want you to keep an eye on them for the rest of the competition.”

  “You do realize this is a baking competition not a reality show?” Drew asked, a bit miffed by the producer’s instructions.

  “Yes, but ratings are the most important thing,” the producer responded. “So you focus on the personal interaction between the competitors and let me figure out how we capitalize on it. Capisce?”

  The director nodded reluctantly.

  * * *

  From behind the curtain, Shari wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. Grant hadn’t stood up for her to Dina. She’d hoped after the last few days that they’d spent together in Los Angeles that he was starting to care for her. Was she imagining the whole thing? She had to be because he’d let Dina rail on her. He hadn’t defended her when Dina called her mousy and afraid of her own shadow.

  The words still stung. Even after all these years, Dina could still cut her like a knife. Shari had thought time and distance would lessen the pain she’d felt by her former friend’s betrayal, but seeing her day after day was bringing up every insecurity Shari had ever had about herself. Added to the fact that she was fighting with her cousins for the chance to run Lillian’s and it was just too much. Shari was reaching her breaking point.

  She’d tried so hard in the competition to show she was as good a baker as Carter or Belinda, but she always came up short. Even the judges today had praised Carter’s creation as innovative, while she got very nice.

  Just then, her iPhone rang, but she didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

  “Who is this?” a woman’s voice said testily from the other end of the line.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Why are you answering my son’s phone?” the woman pressed.

  Shari looked down at the phone again and noticed that she must have grabbed Grant’s phone by mistake. She raised the phone back to her ear.

  “This is Shari.”

  “And, I’m asking again, who are you?”

  Shari was fed up with being bullied, especially today of all days. “This is Grant’s wife. Who is this?”

  Silence ensued on the other line for several long moments before the woman cleared her voice. “Did you say wife?”

  “Yes, I’m Shari Robinson, the mother of Grant’s child,” Shari added for good measure. She figured the woman on the other end was one of his bevy of beauties from New York, and she’d had enough of people walking over her.

  “Oh!”

  Shari could hear the surprise in the woman’s voice.

  “I...I’m Grant’s mother, Eleanor Robinson,” the woman said awkwardly on the other end of line. “And I guess I’m going to be a grandmother.”

  Shari swallowed hard. She’d had no idea that the woman was Grant’s mother. His caller ID hadn’t said Mom or Mother. It had merely had her name: Eleanor. “I’m...so...so sorry, Mrs. Robinson.” Words began spilling out of Shari’s mouth. “I had no idea.”

  “The same can be said for me,” Grant’s mother replied. “I had no idea that Grant was married, much less going to be a father. How far along are you?”

  Shari sighed. Of course Mrs. Robinson would think she was pregnant. She would never assume she had a four-year-old grandchild. “Umm...” Shari stammered, unclear of how to proceed. “I’m not pregnant.”

  “You’re not? Then what did you mean you’re the mother of his child?”

  Shari was sure that Grant would have preferred to tell his parents himself and now she’d opened the proverbial Pandora’s Box. There was no going back now. She just had to spit it out and let the chips fall where they may. Grant should have told them by now, anyway. “Our son, Andre, is four years old,” she finally said.

  “Oh!” She heard his mother’s loud exclamation. “How can this be? Grant never told us. I mean, I know we’re not close and we’ve been estranged for years, but to keep our grandson from us? It’s beyond comprehension.”

 
Shari heard the announcer say that she was due back on set. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Robinson, but I can’t go into more detail. I really have to go. Perhaps we can talk later?”

  “We’re in Los Angeles,” Mrs. Robinson said. “We won’t be back East for several days.”

  Shari nodded, recalling Grant had mentioned his parents were on a Mexican Riviera cruise. “So are we,” Shari responded. “How about dinner at 7:00 p.m.? You can meet us at our hotel.”

  “Oh, my goodness,” Mrs. Robinson responded. “I would like that. I can’t wait to meet my grandson.” And then she added as an afterthought, “And you as well, my dear.”

  “See you tonight.” Shari rattled off the hotel’s address before ending the call. In the back of her mind, Shari knew she’d been somewhat vindictive. She hadn’t had to tell his mother who she was or about Andre. She merely could have said that she’d have Grant call her back. Perhaps if he’d told them sooner, she wouldn’t have had to blindside his mother. Grant was not going to be happy that she’d gotten his parents involved in their drama, but there was no way around it.

  * * *

  Shari didn’t have time to tell Grant what occurred or to give Andre a kiss because she had to get back on set. She continued the rest of the competition and Lillian’s Bakery came out on top along with Brown Sugar Bakery and Delovely Cakemakers. Two more days of competition left and they’d be done. Then it would be back to Chicago...and to what?

  Shari wasn’t sure where she stood in her marriage. Sure, she knew that she and Grant were great together in the bedroom. It was out of the bedroom that they had a problem.

  She found Grant and Andre waiting for her after she’d cleaned up. “Hi, guys.” Shari forced herself to smile even though she felt the exact opposite.

  “Hey, babe.” Grant leaned down and pressed a kiss against her lips. He lifted her face up when he noticed Shari didn’t respond to his kiss. “Tough day?”

  “Something like that,” Shari responded curtly as she looked away.

  “Where are we going tonight, Mommy?”

  “I’m not sure, sweetie pie,” Shari said. “I think we might actually have some company at dinner.”