The Sweet Spot

8

The morning of the Willow Creek Food Fair dawned crisp and clear, the sky a brilliant blue and the air cool with the first hint of fall. I'd barely slept the night before, running over every detail in my head—ingredients, presentation, strategy—but now that the day had arrived, the nerves I'd been wrestling with for weeks had crystallized into something closer to determination.

This was it. This was my chance to show the town what Sweet Dreams was made of.

The kitchen was alive with the smell of freshly baked goods as I carefully packed everything into neat containers. The rosemary-infused shortbread cookies, the lavender-lemon tarts, the spicy chocolate cupcakes—they were all there, ready to be presented to the judges and fairgoers alike. My fingers trembled slightly as I arranged them, but I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.

Elliot was at my side, bouncing with excitement, his energy the complete opposite of my own jittery anxiety. "Are we gonna win, Mommy? Are we? Are we?"

I couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "We'll do our best, buddy. That's what matters."

Elliot grinned and rushed to grab Rexy, his favorite stuffed dinosaur, clearly ready for the adventure ahead. He had been so patient with me over the last few weeks, dealing with my stress and long hours in the bakery without a single complaint. I wanted to win this for him as much as for myself.

Once everything was packed and ready to go, we loaded up the car and headed to the fairgrounds. As we drove through Willow Creek, I couldn't help but notice how alive the town felt today. The streets were buzzing with people heading toward the fair, laughter and chatter filling the air. It was as if the entire town had come out for the event.

When we arrived at the fairgrounds, my nerves surged again. Booths and tents stretched as far as the eye could see, each one bursting with food, crafts, and games. The food competition area was near the center, where judges and locals would pass by, sampling the best the town had to offer. I parked the car and stared at the scene before me, my hands tightening on the steering wheel.

"You can do this, Charlotte," I whispered to myself.

Oliver's words echoed in my mind—take a risk, be bold—and I knew that was exactly what I had done. Now, I just had to hope it was enough.

"Mommy, look! There's the Ferris wheel!" Elliot shouted, pointing excitedly.

I smiled at him in the rearview mirror. "We'll check it out later, okay? First, we need to set up."

As we made our way to our designated booth, I spotted a few familiar faces—local bakery owners, restaurant chefs, all of them bustling around with trays of food, their displays already attracting curious glances. I swallowed hard, feeling the pressure build. These people knew what they were doing. They'd competed in the fair before, and some of them had even won. I was the underdog, the small-town bakery owner who had barely made it this far.

But as soon as I started setting up my table, arranging my pastries just as Oliver had suggested—carefully, with an emphasis on presentation—I felt a shift. My heart was pounding, but my hands moved with purpose. The lavender-lemon tarts gleamed under the sunlight, the spicy chocolate cupcakes looked perfectly moist, and the shortbread cookies were stacked neatly, their golden edges catching the eye.

I was ready.

"Mommy, it looks so good!" Elliot said, his eyes wide as he surveyed the table.

"Thanks, sweetie," I replied, giving him a quick hug. "Now we just wait."

The fair officially kicked off with the ringing of a bell, and soon the food competition area was flooded with people—judges, locals, tourists, all of them eager to sample the food. My nerves spiked again as I watched the crowds approach, but I forced myself to smile, welcoming people as they stopped by.