| |
"Well, ahh, welcome everybody to ahh this ahh, the first Cameron Valley Mother's Day Bake Off."
I cringed as Geoff took over the microphone. He had solemnly told me the week before, "Ahh, Molly, some people have told me I ah, have a great face for radio, so ah, I really believe I could ah, be ah, a formidable Master of Ceremony."
I had looked at his bumpy, broken nose and crooked teeth and didn't have the heart to tell him no. Besides, there was nobody else, and I was too busy off to the side making sure the registration papers for each cake were in order and that the entries were kept anonymous. We'd had so many requests about there being an actual cake competition as well as a live bake off that we'd included it as part of the day. Turns out, there were many home bakers out there who had missed the CWA cake competitions of the past and were ready to do battle. I eyed my cinnamon tea cake, entrant number fifty-six. I wondered if Connie would notice my handiwork. I hadn't said it out loud, but I'd spent nights dreaming that I surprised everyone by wowing the judges with my entry. I'd gone with Connie's advice and left the fancy elderflower glaze and caramelized popcorn ingredients out, instead going with a simple, timeless, classic.
"First up is ahh, a passionfruit and lime buttermilk cake. Hmm, sounds delicious." Geoff was walking up and down the truck like a real Jerry Springer. "What do you think, Mick? Would you partake in a passionfruit and ah, lime buttermilk cake?" He walked over to Mick who was busily beating egg whites, ready to fold in the rest of the ingredients. The crowd laughed as Mick's face went bright red and he waved his whisk at Geoff to move on.
We'd had a lot of entries from the males looking to join in the bake off. Either that, or their wives and mothers had put their names down and they were now currently sweating their way through a public cookery demonstration. Reg was next to Mick and kept stealing his utensils, which had the crowd in stitches.
I'd desperately wanted Josh to enter, but thanks to Saskia, we had well over a thousand people rolling through the cordoned off area, and Josh was working double-time to make sure we didn't overdo the numbers. I had barely seen him all day as he patrolled the area on foot and in the car while also trying to be sociable.
We'd been like ships in the night the past few days. The bake off had consumed my every waking hour and Josh seemed to be either working late or falling asleep in front of the television. I wasn't sure if we were both working hard or if we were just trying to avoid each other. When this was over, we needed to have a weekend away, I resolved. Just the two of us. Without work pressures, or event planning, or d-grade celebrities or even ex-girlfriends. We would get back to where we'd been.
Now, I looked around me and smiled. For once I wasn't sitting in my pyjamas on Mother's Day waiting for the day to be over. Today I was busy organising something for the mothers of Cameron Valley, and it felt good. I wondered if my own mum would have liked it here and instantly knew she would have loved it; the people and the gossip and no day ever being the same. Mum and Dad probably would have fit into Cameron Valley better than I ever would.
Mum wouldn't have held back tears as I had that morning as I'd hot footed it down to the creek at the crack of dawn and already found it a hive of activity. My stomach had dropped, however, when I'd seen that there were hay bales dotted everywhere. Hay bales in lines, hay bales in piles or just hay bales randomly in place. I'd called out to Geoff, who had been standing on the back of a Ute with Jane at the wheel while he threw more bales down below to a surprisingly strong Glennis.
"Geoff! Geoff! What's going on? Why are there hay bales everywhere?"
"You said you wanted seats for everyone."
"Yes. I did."
"Well, here they are. These are the seats."
"But...But won't they be itchy?" I'd gingerly sat down on one.
"Nah," Jane had said. "People are used to it. They know not to wear shorts to a show like this."
I'd grudgingly managed to come around to the hay bale look after begging Reg for some throw rugs and cushions I knew he had in the op shop. With a little bit of tizzying up, I had to agree with Geoff they made a good seat. But then I'd seen Saskia directing someone with a forklift manoeuvring even more hay bales.
"What are those?"
"It's the toilets," she’d said matter-of-factly. "I've organised Dad to make them."
"Make them?" My eyes bulged. "I thought we were getting portaloos?"
She'd turned to me then as if I was an elderly pensioner asking why I couldn't use an ancient coupon.
"I spent a bit extra on something fancy for the women." She'd pointed over to several lovely cream small units, which were nothing like the green ones with banging doors I had imagined. "They've got a bit more room in them, and Pat's putting posies of flowers in them now."
"Why are you building a hay toilet then?"
"It's for the men. Dad said they wouldn't use a portaloo anyway, and you'd have a heap of men pissing outside, so better to house them in what they know."
I looked at Saskia now with a posse of girls around her. They'd arrived with very short skirts, heavy eyeliner and black t-shirts tied into high knots. Saskia had introduced them as our waitresses. It wasn't quite the crisp white shirts and black skirts I'd been envisioning but, much like the hay bales, I'd have to go with it.
"Hey, girly girl girls!" I called out as I walked over to them. They barely registered my presence as they looked down at their phones. But I did notice when Saskia gave them the nod they would dutifully move off filling milk jugs and serving champagne and tea to the ever growing tipsy mums seated around the place enjoying themselves.
"Oh, by the way, we've got just over two thousand people,” Saskia reported offhandedly. "I'm going to have to cap the numbers otherwise we'll be a hazard." Her fingers flew over her phone. "I've updated the event page, so hopefully that will turn a few away."
I stared at her. "I'm sorry, what? Did you say two thousand people?"
"Yeah, I did some marketing and used it for my Year Twelve project."
"Well, gosh! Good. I hope you got an A."
She nodded as if the praise was welcomed, but not necessary because she already knew her own awesomeness.
With two thousand people paying to get in, we'd be able to do a lot more than give the skate park a tidy up. My mind whirred with what we could set up. A re-vamped playground, a permanent library – not just a mobile one. Perhaps even my coffee van wasn't out of the question. I turned back to Saskia before I got too carried away.
"Was Connie okay after missing out on an interview?"
"Hmm? Oh yeah. We did some interviews on my phone instead. I might use it for extra credit."
"So, she didn't mind not meeting Gary Hadley?"
"Nah, he was only some washed up has-been, Molly. It’s not like it was Bryce Hall."
I had no idea who she was talking about, but nodded my head anyway and moved off, leaving her to direct the event better than me.