AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter One
Kalista Chapman could not contain the excitement bubbling up inside her as she faced the members of Bloomings Tide Events and Recreational committee, all twenty-eight of them.
It was finally actually going to happen.
The run for the Theresa Ingram Tarrington-Smith Small Town of Excellence Award, better known as the TITS Award, was back on. While everything else had gone to the dumps in the meantime, as the Mayor of Bloomings Tide, Kalista still believed they were in with a huge chance of winning this time around. No shenanigans attached.
She had been waiting since the day she was voted in as the mayor of Bloomings Tide thirteen months ago for this chance. Invitations were customarily sent out a year in advance to give the towns enough time to prepare.
She had already discussed huge inventive ideas with Tiny Finn, who owned the orange grove, and together, they were going to make the best marmalade the world had ever seen before.
Sure, other small towns were going to feature their jams and preserves as well, but Kalista was determined to make their marmalade completely unique by adding different complimentary flavors, like bacon-flavored marmalade or candy floss, chocolate, or hazelnut-flavored marmalade.
They were also going to experiment with other spices and herbs and infuse things like star anise, vanilla, or cardamon. The sky was the limit. She was also going to get their resident writer, Amelia Gainsfield, to write up the ingredient list as if it were a romance story, like the ingredients falling in love and getting married because that was what had happened, and the love was in the taste.
Their jars were going to be pretty unique goblets made by Ernst Erstwhile, their local glassblower, and they were going to be collector’s items.
Kalista had such big plans.
But instead of an invitation, there’d been rumors that turned quickly into facts from reliable sources that the over-century-old competition had been scrapped. Nothing had made Kalista more despondent. She wasn’t going to get a chance to redeem the Chapman family name.
But then, just that morning, she received the glorious handwritten signature invite, the stationery so luxurious, she couldn’t stop touching it or inhaling the smell of it. The invitation had arrived by post, and since then, she hadn’t been able to breathe.
The competition was back on.
She had also received an emergency email from the office of Theresa Ingram Tarrington-Smith—which was unusual since all correspondences came in by post—to let her know that the contest would only be held between Bloomings Tide and their arch-rival Hopeturns Spring. All the other towns had declined on account of the invitations arriving on too short notice.
But none of her previous plans from a year ago would come to fruition now. So much happened during the year, and they had absolutely nothing to show for it and no time to prepare anything either, not when the judges were arriving in Bloomings Tide in three days' time after they had spent the previous three days in Hopeturns Spring.
Their resident glassblower and writer had moved to the city, so there were no love stories on their pretty goblets to show. Tiny Finn, who was supposed to be their star marmalade maker, closed shop when his new young bride ran off with his adult son instead.
Featuring a museum would be a good backup … if they had one, although Reggie Turnsturn insisted, he was a museum unto himself because he believed he was abducted.
By aliens.
Bloomings Tide had its fair share of odd bits, but it was also the friendliest and most charming town on this side of the Catskills, even if Kalista said that herself. But she had wrecked her brain trying to come up with something on such short notice.
Then, at 4 a.m. that morning, when she had fallen asleep only to be whacked in the face with her phone, which she had been holding and making notes on, she was hit with a grand idea.
What they had, no other town had.
Bloomings Tide had a showstopper.
Something so unique, brilliant, and beautiful that the judges were going to be rocked out of their seats and hand Kalista the award because nothing could beat their act.
“Okay, Bloomers,” she said, sitting at the head of a very long table in the town hall, which was a few tables linked together so everyone could have a seat.
A raucous giggle erupted from the other end of the table and echoed around the high ceilings of the hall.
“Good morning to you too, Henny,” Kalista said, smiling.
“Bloomers,” he repeated, carrying on chuckling. Henny Newton was eighty-seven years old and developed a hearty chuckle over words he thought were funny.
“As you know, we got an invitation to compete in the TITS award—”
“Tits.” Henny was laughing his eyes out now.
“Thank you, Henny,” she said again, then continued. “And as you know, the judges arrive in three days, and we are very unprepared. But—”
