The Fatal Funnel Cake Page 8

  “Yeah, that and to get your makeup done, get you miked up and checked out, things like that. The show doesn’t just happen. There’s a lot of preparation.”

  “I’m sure there is. I’ll be here on time,” Phyllis promised.

  Carolyn asked, “What about the rest of us?”

  “I’m not sure the invitation extended to all of you . . . ,” Hayes said. “The set would be kind of crowded with so many of you up there.”

  “I didn’t mean that,” Carolyn said. “I just wanted to know if we can come watch Phyllis be on TV.”

  “Of course,” Bailey said. “You’ll be more than welcome. We’ll even set up some chairs, so you won’t have sit in the bleachers with the rest of the audience. Won’t that be all right, Reed?”

  Hayes nodded and said, “Yeah, no problem.”

  Eve said, “We’ll be like VIFPs.”

  Carolyn asked, “What does that stand for?”

  “Very important friends of Phyllis, of course.”

  “All right, now you’re just embarrassing me,” Phyllis said. “I don’t want to be treated like some sort of celebrity. All I’m going to do is be on TV for a few minutes.” She looked at Bailey. “It will be for just a few minutes, won’t it? Miss Jameson won’t expect me to be on the show for the whole hour, will she?”

  Bailey smiled and shook her head. “No, there’ll be other segments besides cooking the funnel cakes. I don’t know whether that will take two segments or just one. We’ll work out those details with the director this evening at the daily production meeting. But you don’t have to worry about that. We’ll need you for ten to twenty minutes, tops.”

  “I’m not worried about it, just curious,” Phyllis assured her. “I’ll be available for however long you need me.”

  “Great. Oh, and one more thing . . . Be sure and bring that blue ribbon with you tomorrow. We’ll want to show it off.”

  “I’ll have it,” Phyllis promised. “Actually, you really ought to have Carolyn on, too. She won a blue ribbon for her dark and nutty Nutella drop cookies in that competition.”

  “I’ll take that up with Joye. You’ll be here with Phyllis tomorrow, Mrs. . . . Wilson, was it?”

  “Wilbarger,” Carolyn corrected her. “But I don’t think that anybody needs to make a fuss over me. There are a lot of different winners in the cookie contest. There’s only one best funnel cake in the state of Texas . . . and the woman who came up with it is the person who needs to be on TV!”

  Chapter 11

  Such modesty was unusual coming from Carolyn, who had always thoroughly enjoyed any recognition she received for her cooking and baking skills. But she was adamant about not stealing Phyllis’s thunder, as she put it . . . so adamant that Phyllis began to wonder if it wasn’t so much modesty as stage fright that prompted her friend’s reaction. Just the very notion of appearing on TV seemed to make Carolyn nervous.

  Phyllis couldn’t really blame Carolyn for feeling that way. Over the next approximately twenty-two hours, she did her best not to even think about the millions of people who would be watching her. It really was sort of like an elephant in the room, though, hard to ignore and even harder to keep out of her thoughts.

  At Peggy’s house the next morning, Sam asked Phyllis, “Do you need to take all the ingredients for the funnel cakes with you?”

  She shook her head. “No, Bailey promised that she would get the recipe and that they would have everything on hand for Joye and me when the show starts.”

  “Must be nice to have somebody around to take care of all the little details like that.”

  “Yes, I’m not sure Bailey gets enough credit for what she does to keep things running smoothly,” Phyllis said. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard her last name mentioned on the show. Joye just refers to her as Bailey or her assistant, when she mentions her at all. But like that security guard said, it looks to me like Bailey does an awful lot.”

  “I expect she’s well paid. It’s television, after all.”

  Phyllis knew what he meant, but she wasn’t sure he was right. From what she had heard, the stars and the executives got the big money, while everyone else in Hollywood made decent but hardly spectacular wages.

  As the time to leave for the fair approached, Phyllis felt herself getting more nervous. She kept the feeling under control as much as possible, telling herself that everything was going to be all right. She was just going to do a little cooking in someone else’s kitchen; that was all.

  To get her mind off of it, she sought out Sam and found him in the kitchen getting a cup of coffee. She said, “I really owe you an apology. I’ve been so caught up in this funnel cake business, it totally slipped my mind that you have a contest tomorrow to worry about.”

  He grinned. “I’m not worried about it. Got my Spam sushi recipe all ready to go.”

  “It’s a pretty complicated dish. Are you sure you’ll be able to put it together there at the fair?”

  “Sure. It takes a little longer than some things, I suppose, but a little pressure doesn’t bother me.”

  “I can understand that,” Phyllis said. “You’ve coached in a lot of basketball games that came right down to the last shot, haven’t you?”

  “Well, that’s true.” Sam grew uncharacteristically solemn. “But when you’ve spent months in a hospital watchin’ somebody you love slip away, you learn that most things folks get all worked up about don’t really mean a whole heck of a lot after all.”

  She put a hand on his arm and nodded. “Yes, I know what you mean,” she told him. Like the others in their little circle, they had each lost a spouse, and the pain of that loss was something they would live with every day for the rest of their lives. To try to lighten the mood a little, she went on, “If there’s anything I can do to help you with the contest, all you have to do is let me know.”

  “I appreciate that, but I reckon just havin’ you there to root for me will be plenty.”

  “I’ll certainly do that,” Phyllis promised. She leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek.

  From the kitchen doorway, Peggy said, “I knew it! I knew that tall drink of water had to be smooching with at least one of you. Better keep an eye on him, Phyllis. He looks like a lounge lizard to me.”

  Phyllis was a little embarrassed, but Sam burst out laughing. “I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, but as far as I remember, lounge lizard has never been one of ’em!”

  “All I’m saying is that one man living in a house with three women . . . well, that’s a recipe for hanky-panky,” Peggy insisted.

  Phyllis said, “It certainly is not. Not when the man is an absolute gentleman like Sam.”

  “Yeah, I’m chivalrous as all get-out,” he said, nodding.

  “It’s none of my business,” Peggy said with her eyes sparkling mischievously. “You just go on with what you were doing, Lothario. Don’t mind me.”

  “I was, uh, gettin’ some coffee.”

  “Uh-huh. Coffee.”

  “Oh, goodness gracious,” Phyllis said. She knew Peggy was just joshing, so she wasn’t really offended by the comments, but she was starting to get slightly annoyed. “Talk about making something out of nothing. I just gave Sam an affectionate peck on the cheek; that’s all.”

  “And that’s all you’ve ever done?” Peggy wanted to know.

  “Well . . . I didn’t say that.” Phyllis felt her face growing warm as she blushed. Somebody her age shouldn’t be doing that, she told herself sternly.

  “I’ll get out of your way,” Peggy went on, backing out of the doorway.

  “There’s nothing to get out of the way of,” Phyllis insisted.

  Sam lifted his coffee cup and said, “Think I’ll go upstairs and check my e-mail.”

  “Fine.” Left alone in the kitchen, Phyllis sat down at the table. A few second later, she began to chuckle.

>   It was several minutes before she remembered to be worried again about her upcoming TV appearance, and she was grateful for the respite.

  • • •

  Since they had already seen all the exhibits at the fair during the past two days, there was no reason to go early today. They even ate lunch at Peggy’s house, rather than at the fair, although they ate a little early to allow themselves plenty of time to get there.

  Phyllis didn’t eat much. She wasn’t really hungry, and the last thing she wanted to do when she was nervous was to overeat.

  On the way to Fair Park, Sam glanced over at her as he drove and asked, “Doin’ all right?”

  “Yes, I’ll be fine. I just don’t know why I agreed to do this. That’s always the way it is. Someone asks me to go somewhere or do something, and I think it sounds like it would be fun or interesting, so I say yes. But then when the time actually comes, I just dread it and don’t want to go.”

  “But when you go ahead, you wind up enjoyin’ yourself, don’t you?”

  “Well . . . usually,” Phyllis admitted.

  “That’s the way this’ll be,” Sam said confidently. “You’ll get there and you’ll have a fine time. Just keep tellin’ yourself that.”

  “I’ll try,” Phyllis said.

  Traffic cooperated, so it was only twelve thirty when they reached the fairgrounds. Phyllis was supposed to be at the broadcast set at one o’clock, so that gave them plenty of time to park and walk into the grounds. The fair was busy, even though it was the middle of the week.

  Carolyn pointed at several school buses in the parking lot and said in an ominous tone, “Field trips.”

  “I know,” Phyllis said. “That sight brings up a lot of memories.”

  “And not good ones, for the most part.”

  Eve said, “I’m just glad we didn’t have to worry about that in high school. The seniors always took a trip somewhere, but it wasn’t like what the elementary schools did. I suppose the administration thought that by the time the kids were in high school, they were getting enough of an outside education on their own.”

  “That’s sure the truth,” Sam said.

  Peggy said, “You know, I sort of envy the four of you, having all those shared experiences with the schools. Me, I helped my husband run his furniture stores. I don’t have any old furniture store buddies.”

  Carolyn patted her cousin on the shoulder. “We’ll be your buddies, Peggy.”

  “Yeah, while you’re here. But what happens when the fair is over and you go back to Weatherford?”

  “Well . . . we could come and visit again. Or you could come and visit us.”

  “People say they’ll do things like that, but we all know that when the time comes, they usually don’t.”

  “This will be different,” Carolyn said. “You’ll see.”

  Peggy didn’t seem convinced, but she didn’t say any more about it.

  As they approached the Creative Arts Building, Phyllis spotted a familiar figure standing to one side of the entrance. Gloria Kimball was as sleekly blond and beautiful as ever as she stood there with a microphone in her hand. Her bearded, shaggy-looking cameraman had his video camera balanced on his shoulder as he pointed it at her. The two of them were probably recording another segment for the local TV station, Phyllis thought.

  As she and the others started into the building, a woman’s voice suddenly called, “Mrs. Newsom! Wait just a minute!” Phyllis looked over in surprise and saw Gloria Kimball walking quickly toward her, followed by the cameraman. Gloria went on, “Mrs. Newsom, could I have just a minute of your time?”

  Surprised that Gloria Kimball even knew who she was, Phyllis was a little flustered as she stopped. Her friends came to a halt as well. Phyllis always tried to be polite unless someone gave her a reason not to be, so she said, “Well, I suppose so. But only a minute. I have to be somewhere.”

  “Of course you do,” Gloria said with the same sort of smile usually sported by Joye Jameson. TV personalities seemed to be able to summon the expression at a second’s notice. Phyllis wondered if their cheeks and jaws sometimes ached from smiling so much, or if they got used to it. “I’m sure you’re a very busy woman, since you’re famous now.”

  “Oh, I’m not—”

  “What else could you call it when you’ve created the best funnel cake at the State Fair of Texas? Don’t be modest, Mrs. Newsom. That’s quite an accomplishment. I’m Gloria Kimball, by the way.”

  Carolyn said, “Oh, we know who you are. We used to watch you every day on Gloria’s Kitchen, and we still see you sometimes on Channel 44.”

  “You were always one of our favorites,” Phyllis added.

  Gloria practically preened at being told they recognized her. “I’d really love to ask you a few questions about that special funnel cake of yours, if you wouldn’t mind.”

  “Well, I suppose that would be all right,” Phyllis said. “But like I told you, I’m sort of in a hurry—”

  “This won’t take but a minute.” Gloria lifted the handheld microphone, and before Phyllis fully grasped what was happening, the woman had moved beside her and slipped an arm around her shoulders. “We’re here live with Phyllis Newsom, the winner of the annual funnel cake competition here at the State Fair of Texas.”

  Live? This was going out on the air? Phyllis tried not to gulp nervously at the thought.

  Without missing a beat, Gloria turned from the camera and said to her like they were old friends, “Phyllis, tell me about this wonderful funnel cake of yours.”

  “Well, I, ah . . .” Phyllis took a deep breath and steadied herself. This was something of an ambush, she thought, but she could handle it. She began describing the maple pecan funnel cakes she had made the day before at the competition.

  “Oh, they sound absolutely delicious!” Gloria said. “I don’t suppose there’s a chance you’d make some for me someday?”

  “Well, I don’t—”

  “Tell me, how did it feel to win the contest? The way I understand it, in previous years the competition was an informal one among the concessionaires here at the state fair, but this year it became an official event and was opened to the public.”

  “That’s the way I understand the situation, too.”

  “But the concessionaires, the professionals, if you will, still competed in the contest, so you were taking on the very best funnel cake makers in the world! You must have been thrilled to defeat them!”

  “I wouldn’t call it so much a defeat. I’m sure their funnel cakes were all wonderful.”

  “But not as good as yours,” Gloria said, “because you won the blue ribbon! Can we see it?”

  The ribbon was in Phyllis’s purse, but she wasn’t sure she should take it out and display it on camera. It had just occurred to her that maybe it wasn’t a good idea for her to be talking to Gloria Kimball like this. After all, she had agreed to be on The Joye of Cooking and talk about her funnel cakes there, as well as helping Joye Jameson make a batch of them, so that was sort of like promising an exclusive to a reporter, wasn’t it? Did TV personalities ever try to scoop one another?

  Those questions were going through her mind as she glanced over at the entrance to the Creative Arts Building. Bailey Broderick stood there with a stunned, angry expression on her face, and as soon as Phyllis saw the young woman, she knew that she had indeed made a mistake.

  Chapter 12

  “I’m sorry. I really have to go now,” Phyllis said.

  “If you could spare us just a few more minutes—” Gloria began.

  Phyllis shook her head and muttered again, “I’m sorry.”

  Gloria moved her arm and stepped away from Phyllis, hardly missing a beat as she faced the camera and went on, “We’ve been talking to Phyllis Newsom, blue ribbon winner of the funnel cake competition of the State Fair of Texas, and my, didn’t those
funnel cakes sound delicious! And remember, you heard about them first right here on The 44 News.”

  Phyllis heard Gloria’s voice clearly behind her as she walked toward the building, and she winced slightly at what had just gone out over the air. Beside her, Sam said quietly, “You probably shouldn’t have done that, huh?”

  “Probably not,” Phyllis agreed.

  But it was too late to do anything about it now. Still, she was a little worried about what had happened. She wouldn’t blame Bailey at all if the young woman withdrew the invitation for her to appear on The Joye of Cooking. Even though Phyllis had been halfway dreading being on TV, she would be disappointed if the opportunity was taken away now.

  As she came up to Bailey, she said, “I’m so sorry about what just happened—”

  “I can’t believe it,” Bailey said.

  Phyllis tried to defend herself. “I’m not used to all this, and I just didn’t think—”

  “The nerve of that woman, ambushing you like that.” Bailey glared at Gloria Kimball, who was still facing the camera and talking into the microphone. “You know why she did it, don’t you?”

  Phyllis was relieved that Bailey seemed to be more put out with Gloria than with her. She said, “No, not really. I guess she just saw the opportunity to get a story.”

  “She did it because she hates Joye.”

  The flat statement surprised Phyllis. She said, “But Joye used to be Gloria’s assistant. I thought they were friends.”

  A curt, humorless laugh came from Bailey. “Gloria hates Joye’s guts. She thinks Joye forced her out and stole the show from her. I don’t know all the details, but there was definitely a falling-out between them. When you see them making nice with each other on the air, like they did the other day, that’s just for appearance’s sake.” Bailey shook her head. “But you didn’t hear any of that from me, okay? It’s really none of my business.”

  “We won’t say anything,” Phyllis promised. She looked around at the others, and they all nodded their agreement.