“Pretty close to it. There’s only eighteen dollars in their account and Tori hadn’t sent in the money they owe for the performance rights to the Thanksgiving play they’re doing. It’s only fifty dollars, but there’s not that much money in the account. We need to have a fundraiser.”
“It sounds like that’s the answer. What kind of a fundraiser did you have in mind?”
“I’m not sure. A car wash works well here, but it’s cold! Nobody’s going to want to stand out in the cold and wait for us to wash their car. I guess we could have a rummage sale in the school auditorium, but the marching band just had one two weeks ago to fund their new uniforms.”
Hannah thought about it for a moment. “You could always have a bake sale,” she suggested. “The people in Lake Eden always turn out for that.”
“A bake sale might work,” Michelle agreed, beginning to look a bit excited about the idea. “And maybe we could team it with something else.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Maybe we could sell tickets to some kind of show, or hold a raffle, or something that would make the bake sale even more fun. We’re the Lake Eden Players, after all. It should be bigger than a bake sale, more entertaining and more fun. What can you do with a bake sale that’s fun, Hannah?”
“Buy something good and eat it,” Hannah answered immediately. “But that’s not exactly what you mean. Maybe you could . . .” she stopped speaking and began to smile.
“What?” Michelle asked her.
“A pie eating contest! They have them at the state fair every year. It’s a huge attraction and they sell tickets to get in to watch. There’s no reason why you couldn’t have a pie eating contest right here in Lake Eden and sell tickets to watch it happen.”
“You’re right! And if people knew the contestants ahead of time, they’d come to see who was going to win.”
“You’ll need publicity,” Hannah pointed out.
“That should be easy. Rod is always looking for a good story and he’d take pictures of the contestants for the paper. I know he would.”
“He would if you managed to get some well-known Lake Edenites to agree to be contestants.”
“Like who?”
Hannah thought for a moment. “I’ll bet Mayor Bascomb would do it. He loves to get his picture in the paper.”
“You’re right, Hannah. Mayor Bascomb would draw a crowd. Do you think Ross could talk the people at KCOW into taping the contest and airing a segment on the evening news?”
“There’s only one way to find out. Call Ross and ask him.” Hannah gestured toward the phone on the wall. “Be persuasive. He’s in charge of their extra programming. Convince him that this would be good for the community and also good for KCOW’s ratings.”
“Okay, I will. Can I tell Ross that you’ll be making the pies for the pie eating contest?”
Hannah chuckled. Her youngest sister didn’t miss a trick. “Yes, you can tell him that.”
“And can I say that you’ve agreed to be on the stage, helping me with the contest?”
This time Hannah laughed out loud. “Yes, Michelle. You can tell him that.”
“What’s Ross’s favorite pie?”
“He loves Banana Cream Pie. He mentioned it when we were on our honeymoon.”
“And will you make Banana Cream Pies for the pie eating contest?”
“Sure.”
“Great! I’ll tell Ross that, too. Everybody in the KCOW area knows you and your pies and it’ll add a little human interest.” Michelle headed for the kitchen phone, but she stopped and turned when she got there. “Can I tell Ross that the whole thing about the pie eating contest was your idea?”
“Yes, Michelle,” Hannah said, the amusement clear on her face.
Michelle obviously thought that Ross would do anything to please his new wife and she was counting on that. Hannah wasn’t so sure that was the case, but for her sister’s sake, and hers too, she hoped that Michelle’s assumption was correct.
*
“What’s next?” Michelle asked Hannah, who was sitting across from her at the stainless steel worktable, holding yet another cup of coffee. “We’re almost out of cookies again.”
“Bar cookies. They’re faster and easier to make. And everyone loves bar cookies. Which ones shall we make?”
“I don’t know. They’re all good, but I’m in the mood for trying something new and different. Maybe we can find some way to tweak one of your recipes with a new ingredient. Why don’t you look through the recipe book and pull out all the bar cookies. I’ll duck into the pantry and see what you have on hand. If I can find some interesting ingredient, that’ll give us some ideas.” Michelle brought the recipe book to the worktable and left to take stock of the pantry.
Hannah cupped her hands around her mug of coffee and sighed. She knew exactly which bar cookies were in her recipe book and she really didn’t need to page through them. It had been a busy day and she was tired. She sat there longing for the lazy days she’d spent on the ship and the wonderful feeling that she had no responsibilities. It was different now that she was back at home and her personal Shangri-La had vanished. Now she had a whole truckload of duties and responsibilities. It seemed as if everyone in Lake Eden was depending on her for one thing or another, and she hadn’t even thought about what she could make for her husband’s dinner. Her to-do list was so long, it was mentally tripping her, and all she could do was sit there and feel guilty about all the things she hadn’t accomplished today.
Feeling guilty is a waste of time, her mind said, and even worse, it’s counterproductive. You won’t accomplish anything at all if you continue to sit there and feel sorry for yourself.
“You’re right,” Hannah said aloud. Then, when she realized that she was talking to herself, she clamped her lips shut.
Call Stan Kramer’s office, her mind instructed. Even though you don’t think he’d divulge any information about a client, you can at least exhaust that possibility.