Married Before Midnight by Sienna Quinn - Chapter 11

[adminnovelsaudio]

Listen Audiobook Version:



Married Before Midnight


Chapter 11: The Taste of Hope


The Maplewood Community Center buzzed with energy as the Carter women stepped inside, the scent of sugar and butter thick in the air. Tables draped in checkered cloths lined the room, each one occupied by a baker meticulously arranging their creations. Eleanor tightened her grip on the basket holding her mother’s butter cake, her heart pounding. “Remember,” Hannah murmured, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd, “Brenda’s here.


Third table from the left.” Olivia followed her sister’s gaze and spotted Brenda Miller, her co-worker from Sweet Haven Bakery, smirking as she dusted powdered sugar over a towering chocolate cake. “She’s already planning something,” Olivia muttered. Charlotte nudged Lillian. “Stick close to Mom. If Brenda tries anything—” “We’ll be ready,” Lillian finished, her jaw set. The competition began with the judges—a panel of five local food critics and pastry chefs—explaining the rules. Round One: The Family Heritage Cake. Each baker had to present not just a recipe, but the story behind it. Eleanor took a steadying breath as she arranged her ingredients. The butter cake was simple but perfect—golden, moist, and fragrant with vanilla. It was the cake her mother had baked every Sunday, the one that had filled their home with warmth even during the hardest winters. Across the room, Brenda leaned over to whisper to another contestant, her gaze flicking toward Eleanor’s station. Hannah’s instincts flared. “Olivia, watch her.” Just as Eleanor turned to preheat the oven, Brenda “accidentally” knocked over a bowl of flour near Eleanor’s station, sending a cloud of white into the air. While Eleanor coughed, Brenda’s hand darted toward the butter dish. Hannah moved like lightning. “Oh, Brenda!” she called loudly, stepping forward. “You dropped your—uh—spoon!” She held up the utensil Brenda had just used to scrape something dubious into Eleanor’s butter. The room stilled. Brenda’s face flushed. “I—I didn’t—”


One of the judges, Mrs. Delaney, frowned. “Is there a problem?” Hannah smiled sweetly. “No problem at all. Just helping a fellow baker.” She discreetly swapped the tainted butter with a fresh block from their backup supplies. Eleanor, realizing what had nearly happened, squeezed Hannah’s hand in silent thanks. As the baking continued, the sisters formed a protective circle around their mother. Charlotte kept up a steady stream of cheerful chatter to distract Brenda, while Olivia and Lillian double-checked every ingredient. Emily, the youngest, made a show of “accidentally” bumping into Brenda’s table, knocking over her salt shaker. “Oops! Clumsy me!” By the time the cakes were pulled from the ovens, the air was thick with competing aromas—spiced apple, rich chocolate, citrus glaze.


But Eleanor’s butter cake, golden and flawless, stood out. When it was her turn to present, Eleanor’s voice trembled only slightly. “This cake was my mother’s recipe. She baked it to remind us that even in hard times, there’s always something sweet to hold onto.” She glanced at her daughters. “Now, I bake it for my girls. For their laughter, their fights, their dreams… and the future we’re building together.” The judges’ eyes softened. The first bite had them sighing in unison. “Perfect crumb,” murmured Mr. Thompson, Eleanor’s boss at Sweet Haven. “The flavor is pure nostalgia,” added Mrs. Delaney.


When the scores were tallied, Eleanor’s name was called as the winner of Round One. The sisters erupted in cheers, hugging each other tightly. But as the crowd applauded, Brenda’s glare burned into them. Hannah met her gaze head-on, a silent challenge. Round Two is coming, Hannah thought. And she won’t play fair. Eleanor squeezed her daughters’ hands. “We’re halfway there.” Hope, sweet and fragile, bloomed in their chests.