After we listened to Sam play, Dad and I headed toward Harrison Hall, the air-conditioned building on the edge of the park. (Mom hung back to help one of the drummers who was stung by a bee.) This is what I’d been waiting for all day. Every year the community festival held the Let There Be Cake contest for amateur bakers from 4:00 to 6:00. The community got to vote for the fan favorite. Unfortunately you had to be over eighteen to enter.
As we walked in, the cool air made my hot, sweaty skin tingle. The smell of frosting was pure heaven, and I’m pretty sure I did a happy sigh without thinking about it because Dad looked at me and grinned. Everywhere you looked, there were tables covered with cakes.
The tables were grouped by category. I lost track of how many. There were wedding cakes, birthday cakes, crooked cakes, character cakes (someone had made a three-headed Fluffy dog from Harry Potter!), cakes shaped like real-life objects, and regular round cakes.
My favorite category was Miniature Cakes. They weren’t cupcakes but small-scale versions of cakes. And they were amazing! I had a hard time choosing which one to vote for. In the end, I picked the one that looked like a doll-size pink top hat with a blue and green butterfly sitting on top. The fondant was perfectly smooth. Around the brim, the baker had put pea-size balls of frosting painted like pearls.
But what was really neat about the mini-hat cake was that it was missing a slice. And inside there were seven mini-layers—each in a different color of the rainbow! It must have taken the baker forever to figure out how to do that just right.
I wondered which cake Tony would vote for. I knew his parents were helping judge the contest. But I hadn’t seen them. Or him. When we made up (sooner or later), Tony and I would have to plan out what kinds of cakes we’d make in our shop. I hoped he liked the idea of a rainbow-layer one.
Dad said we could come back after dinner to see who won. Then he said he needed to use the restroom before we left.
“I’ll just get a drink and wait for you,” I told him.
There was a fountain near the restrooms. I stood behind a mother as she took turns holding her three kids up to get some water. All the kids looked younger than six. They were cute. A little cranky, though. But that was understandable. Crowds make me cranky, too, sometimes. I made a silly face at the littlest kid to try to get him to laugh.
The mother turned to me. “I’m sorry this is taking so long,” she said to me with a weary smile.
“It’s okay,” I told her. “I’m not in any hurry.”
“Now that’s refreshing!” someone behind me said.
There was something about the woman’s voice that was familiar. I turned around and nearly fainted dead away. It was Sweet Caroline! She was wearing a dazzling smile and badge that said JUDGE.
“A lot of young people today have given up on common courtesy,” she said, looking right at me.
Sweet Caroline was standing here. Talking to me.
My brain was a jar of marbles that someone had just spilled on the floor. I tried to grab one of the thoughts rolling around so I could say something.
“Your show is my favorite,” I said.
Sweet Caroline’s smile got even more dazzling as she extended her hand. “Why, thank you!” she said. “I love meeting fans.”
I shook her hand. It was small and soft.
“I’m sorry I can’t stay and chat,” Sweet Caroline said. “I’m judging the contest. Have you voted for your favorite yet?”
I told her that I had.
“Wonderful! Well, enjoy the rest of your day.”
“Thank you,” I said. “You too.”
As Sweet Caroline walked away, she waved. “Remember,” she said. “Be sweet . . .”
“. . . to everyone you meet!” I called after her.
She laughed, which made me feel light as angel-food cake.