“Are you gonna win a baking trophy like Daddy?”
“That’s the idea,” Jazzy said.
“Yay!” Trinity clapped. “I like trophies.”
Bolstered by the child, Jazzy stood up and waved goodbye as Rio and Trinity skipped off to the bleachers.
“How you doing, Rainbow?” Roan asked, massaging her shoulders as if she was a contender about to go into the boxing ring against the reigning champ.
“I’m good.”
“You’ve got this.”
“I’ll help Jazzy unload the cooler,” Ava Sullivan said. “Could you see your dad to the bleachers? He’s still favoring that ankle, but he’s too proud to admit he could use an arm to hold on to. Don’t tell him I sent you.”
“I’ll take care of Dad,” Roan told his mother, and then gave Jazzy a thumbs-up before heading over to his father, who was leaning against a pavilion pylon for support.
Ava helped Jazzy carry the cooler over to the firepit marked with number thirteen and together they started unloading the supplies onto the folding table provided. Mixers and food processors, along with electrical hookups were also provided.
“I sent Roan off with his dad so we could have a chat.” Ava set a canister of flour beside the fire-engine red KitchenAid. The mixer sported a label that identified it as being on loan from Christine Noble.
“Oh?” Jazzy said, feeling a little unsettled. Her mind was on the baking contest and Ava had thrown her a curveball.
“I haven’t seen Roan this happy since before Claire died and it’s all because of you.”
Jazzy didn’t know how to respond, so she just smiled.
“You’ve worked your Jazzy magic on him.”
“He’s worked his Roan magic on me,” Jazzy said, feeling her stomach tense. What was Ava getting at?
“I know you two just started dating and the last thing I want to do is put any pressure on you...”
Then don’t.
“But I hope you win today. It would do so much to restore Roan’s love of campfire cooking. He completely shut that down after Claire died. He got it into his head it was his fault she died, and campfire cooking was the reason why.”
Jazzy nodded and bit her bottom lip and concentrated on lining up the wet ingredients—sour cream, cream cheese, butter, eggs. “I’ll try my best.”
Ava finished pulling the last of the supplies from the cooler and added them to the rest of the things on the table. She reached to take Jazzy’s hand and squeezed it. “We’re so happy for you and Roan. It’s so good to see him smile regularly again.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Sullivan,” she said, touched by the woman’s kindness, but also worried because things just seemed to be moving way too fast. She and Roan were good together, but she feared discussing their budding relationship would jinx things.
“Win or lose,” Ava said. “We’re cheering for you all the way.”
“I appreciate that.”
Ava gave her a hug and went to join her family in the bleachers. Jazzy turned to make sure she had everything she’d need to get started.
Charlie came bouncing up. “Lucky thirteen!” her best friend exclaimed. “It’s a sign you’ll beat Andi.”
“Thank you for your confidence.”
“I saw the Sullivans. You brought your own cheering section. I feel unnecessary.”
“Oh no, no. You being here means the world to me, Charlie.”
“How’s the burn, Lambchop?” He eyed her bandaged arm.