A little girl with a costume chef’s hat on. It’s a little too big for her head, causing it to fall into her eyes. She pushes it up out of her face, shooting me a toothless grin as she holds up a handmade sign that reads, in haphazard crayon… “ABBY, U R MY HERO!” Tears come to my eyes, but I b
Abby Duck. Pork. A flaky pastry dough. It should be easy. I’ve practiced it a hundred times, tasted it a thousand. It’s one of my favorite French dishes to make, and yet, as the stage descends into organized chaos… I’m frozen. My eyes are wide like a deer in headlights. The deafening
“On it,” he responds, jogging toward the pantry. He returns a few moments later, and we swap places. “Make sure to turn the duck and sear it evenly,” I call out as I begin to mix the ingredients together to make the dough. “Use the red wine for moisture. Yeah, just like that, perfect…” …
Abby “And the contestants moving on to the final round are... Abby, Bryan, and Daniel.” The announcer’s voice sparks an explosion of cheers. “Abby, you’ve done it!” Karl’s voice carries over to me through the noise, and I turn to face him, my smile so wide it almost hurts. “I know,” I breath
Abby The director holds up three fingers, his mouth moving silently as he counts down to live. Three… two… one. “And… we’re back!” The announcer's voice booms across the studio, and the audience erupts into cheers and applause as an assistant holds up cue cards out of the camera’s view. “What a
I move toward the standing mixer, throwing ingredients in, taking care to measure with conviction. Cooking is one thing, but making is another; there is no room for measuring mistakes. An extra tablespoon of sugar could ruin the whole dish. Karl grins, his voice cutting through the tension. “Don’t
Abby The buzzer goes off, and the contestants place down their dishes, stepping back from their stations. The room is alive with murmurs, excitement from the crowd as their eyes scan the three dishes on the stage. The judges step down from their booth, their gazes inscrutable. My hands tremble,
Abby I’m sitting by myself in the breakroom, my fingers wrapped around a cardboard cup of coffee from the vending machine. The coffee has already gone cold, but it’s not like I was drinking it anyway. The taste was too bitter for what I need right now. Karl stepped out just a few minutes ago. He
Abby Intrigued, I let Karl take my hand and lead me discreetly away from the reception, weaving through the tables and out a back door into the gardens. A mischievous grin plays on his lips as we giggle like teenagers, ducking behind hedges and scurrying across the lush green lawns. “Where are w
As the music shifts to a slow ballad, I feel a familiar pair of strong arms circle my waist from behind. “There’s my beautiful wife,” Karl’s deep voice rumbles in my ear, sending shivers down my spine. He spins me around to face him, our bodies swaying in time to the soft music. I gaze up at him
Abby The reception hall is cast in a warm, romantic glow, with twinkling lights and the warm flickering of candles on every table. Soft music plays as Karl and I make our entrance, hand-in-hand to raucous applause and cheers from our guests. I can’t stop smiling as we wave to our loved ones gather
Abby The afternoon sun streaming in through the tall windows of the chapel casts the stones in a warm golden light, giving everything a sort of ethereal energy. I stand in the hallway, my arm linked with Anton’s, as the wedding coordinator prepares everyone to walk down the aisle. “Are you ready
Abby As I sit in front of the vanity mirror with the hair and makeup artist circling around me, I meet my friends’ gazes in the reflection; Chloe, Leah, Daisy, and even Elsie are here as my bridesmaids, each of them looking more beautiful than the last. “The seamstress really did do a great job
Abby With a gasp of excitement, I pull the wedding gown out of its box and hold it up in the light. Everything is perfect; the way the beadwork catches the light, the silky texture, the shape. I can’t wait to try it on now that it’s been altered to fit my body. Quickly, I slip out of my clothe
Abby “Abby, why don’t you sit down?” Karl looks up at me from where he’s sitting on the sofa, a look of concern on his face. He pats the spot next to him, but I shake my head. “I can’t,” I say, continuing to pace back and forth in our living room. “I won’t sit down until I hear back about that
Abby As I chop, stir, melt, and saute, the others stand around me, watching intently. The pasta simmers on the stove, the air smelling like warm butter and spices. It’s enough to make anyone’s mouth water. But my focus isn’t on the rumbling in my belly, nor is it even on the lingering pain in my
As we continue searching, I keep thinking back on our last harrowing hunt for black truffles; those poachers nearly shot us. Even now, I can still remember the sound of the bullets whizzing past my head, and the thuds they made when they careened into trees. “We got really lucky,” I say. “If we ha