Ansley's Big Bake Off Read online

  “I thought the talents in the Bible were a kind of money,” I said, and twisted my mouth into the size of a button.

  “They were,” Dad said. “But the word ‘talents’ also means abilities or skills. When the master gives talents to his servants, he expects them to be invested, so that the money grows and they can give him the profit when he returns. It’s their job to make more out of what he gives them.

  “But if you see the master in the story as God, and the servants as us, or mankind, then the story is saying that God gives us all special skills and abilities and that He expects us to make something of them—something good that will make us and others happy. If you can paint pictures, then you should make paintings. If you can sing, you should sing songs. If you can write stories, you should do so . . .”

  “All we’re saying is,” Aunt Sam said, “that you should probably let Mallory hear you sing one of these days.”

  “Yes! Do it! Do it!” Cammie and Kitty chimed in.

  “One of these days,” Lena said, looking shy again.

  “Don’t push her,” Dad told the twins. “In the end, we all have to make our own decisions about things like this because God gave us all free will. He never forces us to do anything. So, if God doesn’t, we shouldn’t force anybody else either.”

  “I’ll definitely pray about it.” Lena got up from her chair. “Now I’m going to put the guitar back in my room.”

  Once Lena left, the twins looked under the coffee table at the selection of puzzles we had stashed there. “Can we start one?” Cammie asked Dad. They each took hold of one end of the same box and slid it out. It was a snowy outdoor scene that showed people ice-skating, sledding, and throwing snowballs. It was called “Winter’s Paradise.”

  “Interesting choice for the end of summer,” Dad said, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

  “It’s just so hot out. This will cool us off,” Kitty said seriously. Then she laughed at the silliness of her explanation.

  After Dad agreed, Kitty and Cammie shook the puzzle pieces out on top of the coffee table and Cammie said, “I’m good at puzzles.”

  “You mean you’re talented at putting puzzles together!” Kitty teased her and laughed some more.

  As the girls got started, I slipped out of the room and followed Lena down the stairs. I watched as she returned to her room and hung her guitar back up on her wall. Then she turned around with a questioning look. She must have heard me behind her.

  I shrugged. “I just want to say you are really good,” I said. “You do know that, don’t you?”

  “I guess I do,” Lena said. “But it’s the whole, ‘singing for Mallory’ stuff that makes me feel weird.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not sure.” Lena sat on her bedspread and stared at the guitar that seemed to be quietly staring back at her. “Maybe it’s because when I think of Mallory, I think of Mom.”

  I felt a pang in my chest when she said that but let her go on.

  “You know, Mom traveled with me and stayed with me the whole time I was filming Above the Waters. But now, Mom’s gone. And I’m not making any more movies or touring with Mallory. In fact, the last time we even saw or spoke to Mallory was at Mom’s funeral. I don’t know . . . I kind of feel like without Mom, there shouldn’t be any more Mallory stuff. Like that chapter of my life is closed.”

  My shoulders sagged. “Oh.” While I didn’t really agree with her, I also kind of understood how she was feeling.

  “But like I said, I’ll pray about it.” Her eyes flickered at the prayer journal lying on her desk. “I mean, if it’s something God wants me to do, then I want to do it.”

  “Do you want to pray about it now?” I asked, stepping toward her and holding out my hands. “We can do it together.”

  “Okay.” Lena took my hands in hers.

  I closed my eyes. “Dear God, my sister and I come before you in prayer today to ask for your guidance. Please let Lena know what you would like her to do with her singing and songwriting. She only wants to do your will. Please clear the confusion from her mind and heart and help her to know what would please you the most. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Lena said. She smiled sweetly at me. “That was very cool of you. Thanks, Ansley.”

  “You’re welcome!” I said. I let go of her hands and headed back toward the upstairs family room. “Don’t worry,” I said, boldly. “God will let you know what He wants you to do soon.” I felt very confident about it, and my heart was feeling much lighter about her situation. As I practically skipped back up the stairs, I had a sudden thought that made me stop near the top. Lena has done a movie for God, and now she’s doing music for God. She’s got talents of singing and acting and writing. But what about me? I wondered. I don’t act or sing or play an instrument. Dad said God gave everyone talents and that He expects us to use them. But . . . what are my talents? And how does God want me to use them? I took a deep breath as I entered the family room. I sure hope that when God tells Lena what to do, He’ll give me a few hints too!

  Chapter 4

  The next morning, I woke up in the middle of a wonderful dream about unicorns. Usually I hate it when that happens. I want to go back to my dream world! But this time at least I woke up to something that was also wonderful: the delicious smells of bacon, eggs, pancakes, and coffee!

  I sat up for a moment and took a deep breath. “Mmm!” Then I threw off my covers and rushed down to the kitchen. There I found my aunt bustling around the stove, pouring out perfect, sizzling circles of pancake batter onto a griddle. Behind her, laid out on a tray on the counter, were amazing-smelling and still-simmering strips of bacon. I slowly reached out for one.

  “Not yet!” my aunt said without turning around. “They’re still too hot! They’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

  I drew my hand away with a guilty giggle and squinted at the back of her head to make sure there wasn’t an extra set of eyes peering out from behind her hair.

  She flipped a pancake over and I marveled at how it was just the right shade of golden brown. Aunt Sam knew how to cook! With this thought, I noticed the eggs, milk, flour, and mixing bowl that were out on the counter, next to the bacon. “Aunt Sam? Are you going to bake something?”

  “Yes. Some cupcakes for after church. Your Dad said we’re all going to a barbecue at the pastor’s house this afternoon.”

  “We are?” I trotted over to her side and reached for my unicorn apron. “I can help . . .” I trailed off as my hand met air. My apron wasn’t on its hook. Neither were my unicorn oven mitts. Where had they disappeared to? I turned my head all around to scan the area as quickly as possible. Not there . . . not there . . . not there . . .

  “That’s okay, honey. Just go get your sisters before the food gets cold.”

  She slid some pancakes onto a dish, and when she turned to put them on the table, I noticed that she was wearing a checkered apron. What had she done with my—

  “Go on, Ansley! Get your sisters!”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said. I walked backwards out of the kitchen, blinking rapidly, then turned and obeyed.

  The rest of the morning was noisy and busy as we all gathered to eat our hearty breakfast around the kitchen table. Aunt Sam didn’t seem to sit still for a minute. She kept jumping up to either make someone more eggs, bacon, or pancakes or to check on the cupcakes or try to calm Zette and Austin, who were running around the table begging each of us for bacon. I didn’t want to ask her about my apron and mitts in front of everyone, so I ended up sinking deeper and deeper in my chair while everyone else crowed about how yummy everything was and how glad they were that Aunt Sam had come to live with us. I love her and her cooking, too, I thought, but now that she’s here, does that mean I don’t get to cook anymore? Am I banished from the kitchen or something?

  And I didn’t feel any better about it later when I was just putting my dish in the dishwasher and saw Aunt Sam taking the cupcakes out of the oven. “Ooh!” I said. “Let me frost them, Aunt Sam, ple
ase!”

  “Not today, sweetheart. They need to cool, and you need to go and change for church. It’s your first Sunday there and you don’t want to be late.”

  “I know, but—”

  My father called from his room upstairs, “Girls! Get dressed, please! We need to head out soon!”

  With a sigh that was as quiet as I could make it, I obeyed my dad and trudged back up the stairs. But I didn’t like the uneasy feeling I had in my stomach. I tried to rub it away, but it sat there, and I knew that the only way to get rid of it would be to talk to Aunt Samantha as soon as I could.

  Our new church was a huge, white building that reflected the sun. Walking through the front doors of the main building made me feel a bit like I was walking through the gates of heaven.

  Everyone there welcomed us with smiles as they rushed this way and that. They all seemed to have places to go. I had the feeling that the angels in heaven were a little like that too. They probably all had jobs that kept them busy as they happily zipped between heaven and earth. I was beginning to feel a little bit lost in all the hustle and bustle until a tall blond man walked toward us, trailed by three blonde girls. He shook hands with Dad and told us that he was Pastor Dennis Whittaker and that the girls were his daughters. They ran up to us.

  The eldest one spoke first. “I’m Nikki,” she said with a grin. She had the longest hair of the three—almost to her waist—and was the darkest blonde of the sisters. She looked to be about my age. “I can show you where to go for worship,” she said to me.

  Her younger sisters waved at the twins. “And you can follow us!”

  “I hope you like music, Lena,” Pastor Dennis said, gesturing for her and Dad to follow him. “Because in Teen Worship there will be a lot of singing today.”

  I exchanged looks and smiles with Lena before we went our separate ways. That was fast, I thought to myself. Looks like God is trying to tell Lena something already!

  “Sometimes we do music too,” Nikki told me as she led me to a room that looked like a small theater. “But we also do arts and crafts and games and Bible discussions. You’ll see.”

  I was in a group of middle school kids that ended up reading from First Corinthians chapter twelve about how many parts make up one body. Then we discussed how it was like the church since many people make up the one church and how different people participate in different ways to make it run, the way all the different body parts work together. Then we got to act in a little play where a bunch of us pretended to be parts of the body (I was an ear) arguing over who was the most important. Of course, the play ended on the idea that what was most important was how we all worked together to help the body be its best.

  I had to say the line, “What did you say . . . ?” about ten times. By the fifth time I couldn’t say it without giggling, and by the time the play was over I was laughing so hard I was crying. It was a very fun way to discuss an important idea.

  When the service was over, Nikki bounced over to me and said, “Are you coming for lunch? We’ve got a trampoline in the backyard!”

  I turned to her with wide eyes and shouted, “What did you say . . . ?” and this made us both laugh so hard we had to lean on each other to not fall down.

  When I met up with the rest of my family, I grabbed Cammie to tell her about the trampoline—she loves them! She was so excited by the news that by the time we arrived at the Whittaker’s, she was the first person in the Daniels family to go through the gate to their backyard. Once inside, she grabbed Lena’s hand and practically dragged her over to the trampoline.

  Other church families were also there, and most of them had gathered around the picnic tables that were practically sagging under all the food laid out on top of them. There were coolers of icy canned drinks, bowls of homemade punch, freshly grilled burgers and hot dogs, platters of cookies, and just about every kind of pie (with every kind of crust) you could think of.

  But Kitty and I bypassed the food. Instead we followed the Whittaker girls around as they gave us a tour of their backyard. They had a lot of things set up besides the trampoline, like monkey bars, a soccer net, and a basketball hoop. Looks like we’re dealing with a pretty sporty set of sisters, I thought to myself.

  But the one sports-related object in their yard that drew my attention the most was a long, straight beam, sitting low to the ground. “Is this a balance beam?” I asked. I heard my voice go all squeaky.

  Nikki whirled around to face me, and her hair whipped behind her like a streamer. “Yes! How did you know?”

  “How?” I leapt onto it. Then, after a thoughtful pause, I did a quick jump in the air, bending at the waist while folding my left leg so that my toes pointed down and jutting my right leg straight out so that my toes pointed out in front of me. Then I landed neatly back on the beam. I followed that maneuver with a backflip, and I ended with another firm and precise landing on the beam.

  Nikki, her sisters, and other guests at the party applauded. I hadn’t realized so many people had been watching. “A wolf jump and a back tuck!” Nikki announced, her eyes wide.

  I nodded. “I used to take gymnastics in my old neighborhood,” I said while walking up and down the beam. Then I threw in a couple of split jumps.

  Nikki watched me, her face ecstatic. “You have to join my gym, Ansley! Grace-n-Power Gymnastics. It’s the best there is. The coaches are great. You can join our team and compete and everything!”

  I clasped my hands together and smiled open-mouthed at her. “That would be awesome!”

  Just when I said that, Dad and Pastor Whittaker strolled over holding paper plates loaded with food.

  “Don’t you girls want anything?” Pastor Dennis asked, waving a hot dog.

  His daughters converged on him like baby birds surrounding their mother bird who was offering them a fresh worm.

  Staying on the balance beam, I reached over and tugged at my father’s sleeve. “Daddy! Daddy! Can I join Nikki’s gym? Oh, please-oh-please-oh-pretty-please?” I made my eyes as big and pleading as I could.

  “You mean like for gymnastics? Like you used to? I don’t see why not,” Dad said.

  “Yes!” I punched the air.

  “But if you’re going to be a gymnast, you’re going to have to make sure you eat some protein for muscle strength and strong bones,” Dad said, waving a hamburger at me teasingly.

  “Thanks,” I said. “I’m starving.” I snatched it.

  “Share with Kitty,” Dad reminded me.

  As I tried to break the burger into two even pieces, Dad gestured towards the tables and said, “Girls, don’t forget to try some of your aunt’s yummy cupcakes before they’re all gone.”

  I stopped mid-chew, suddenly remembering my missing apron and not being able to help in the kitchen that morning. I swallowed hard. “Dad? Where’s Aunt Samantha?”

  Dad pointed toward the tables.

  I gave Kitty her half of the burger and announced to the others, “I’ll go get us some cupcakes!” And I rushed off before anyone else could join me.

  I found my aunt standing behind one of the tables, handing out drinks, napkins, and of course, cupcakes. They were covered in pink frosting and sprinkles and, I had to admit, they looked really good. I walked up to ask her about my apron. As I opened my mouth to speak, I stopped myself. She looked happy to see how many people were taking the cupcakes and telling her how delicious they were. Her face was shining.

  I set my mouth in a firm line. This doesn’t seem like the right time to talk to her, either, I thought. Then I was startled by a voice directly behind me.

  “Did you make those cupcakes, Ansley?” Taylor Lang asked me. “Or did your mom?”

  Chapter 5

  You mean my aunt?” I peeked at Taylor from the corner of my eye. She was watching Aunt Samantha with a slightly bored expression on her face. Does Taylor even know about my mom? I wondered. It didn’t look like it. It looked more like she had mistaken my aunt for my mother. “That’s my Aunt Samantha, remember? I
told you yesterday.”

  “Aunt, Mom,” Taylor waved her hand. “Whatever.”

  I gritted my teeth at that but decided to let it slide. “Anyway, yes, my Aunt Samantha made those cupcakes.”

  “Oh.” Taylor crossed her arms. “Lucky your dog isn’t around to ruin them.”

  “You mean my aunt’s dog,” I reminded her. “Not mine.”

  “Right.” Taylor shrugged.

  I stepped toward the table where my aunt was standing and held out a dish. “Auntie Sam? Can I get a few of those?”

  “Sure, Ansley! Hi, Taylor, honey. Would you like one too?” Aunt Samantha asked.

  “No, that’s okay,” Taylor said, although she couldn’t take her eyes off the pink frosting.

  “If you don’t want the whole thing, we can share one,” I suggested.

  Taylor brightened. “Okay. Let’s make a deal. I’ll share one of these with you, and then you’ll have to try one of my grandma’s,” she said.

  “Did your grandma make cupcakes too?” I asked, peeling the silver wrapper off one of the cupcakes.

  “Did my grandma make cupcakes?” Taylor raised one eyebrow and smiled smugly. “Follow me.”

  She led me over to a table that held a bunch of desserts. There were a number of fancy, multi-layered, full-sized cakes set up on cake stands, all labeled with beautifully hand-lettered signs identifying their flavors (like Red Velvet, Hummingbird, Carrot, Double Chocolate, and so on). There were also other pastries like éclairs, cannoli, and cookies.

  “Which . . . which ones did your grandmother make?” I asked, wondering if it was supposed to be obvious, but that I somehow wasn’t getting it.

  “She made all of these,” Taylor said. She put out her arms like a preacher blessing a congregation.

  “All?” I couldn’t help raising my voice. “But these look like they’re from a bake shop!”