“I actually appreciate knowing what I’m buying.”
“Exactly,” I agreed. “Especially when people ask about ingredients.”
Karen’s cheeks reddened.
“Oh, please! You and your daughter are acting like you’re better than everyone else!”
“You’ve done nothing wrong.”
Lily stepped closer to me.
“Mom, can we just—”
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” I whispered, squeezing her hand. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”
Karen folded her arms.
“Besides, Madison worked just as hard as Lily! My daughter spent days making those treats!”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
I tilted my head.
“Really? Every single one?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t she?”
I glanced at the parents gathered around our table.
“Karen, are you comfortable saying that in front of everyone?”
I simply looked at her.
She gave an offended snort.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
For a moment, I simply looked at her. I’d given her every opportunity to tell the truth, and she’d chosen to shout the lie instead.
“That’s interesting. Because there’s something I’d love to show you.”
Her face went pale.
I reached into my purse.
I pulled out a neatly folded stack of printed order confirmations and handed the first page to Karen.
“Recognize this?”
She glanced at it.
Her face went pale.
“What… where did you get that?”
I recognized them immediately.
“From our online bakery, of course!”
I turned toward the curious parents.
“You see, Lily and I run a small baking business. She makes all the desserts, and I handle the orders and payments.”
Karen opened her mouth, but I continued.
I pointed at the customer’s name.
“When Madison unpacked her treats earlier, I recognized them immediately. I actually helped Lily pack that order last Thursday.”
I unfolded another page.
“Twelve vampire cookies, eight purple ghosts, twenty pumpkin cupcakes. All the same designs and quantities displayed on Madison’s table.”
I pointed at the customer’s name.
I unfolded another page.
“And look! Karen, what a coincidence! You’re our mystery customer!”
Someone behind me gasped.
Karen snatched the paper.
“There’s nothing wrong with buying cookies!”
“Of course not. We love our customers.”
The parents burst out laughing.
I smiled.
“I just didn’t realize we were selling cookies to our biggest competitor.”
The parents burst out laughing.
“But you just told everyone Madison baked them herself,” one woman pointed out.
Karen looked desperately toward her daughter.
“I didn’t make them, Mom!”
“Madison, tell them!”
Madison’s cheeks turned scarlet.
“I didn’t make them, Mom! And I never said I did!”
“Madison!”
“I didn’t even want to take Lily’s table!”
Karen stood there, clutching the receipts as though they might magically disappear.
I looked back at Karen.
I turned to Madison.
“Sweetheart, I’m not angry with you. None of this was your decision.”
Then I looked back at Karen.
“But your mother and I definitely need to discuss her customer loyalty.”
“I just wanted Madison to have a successful fair!” Karen protested, her face bright red.
“In fact, I have an idea.”
“And you couldn’t do that without stealing my daughter’s table and humiliating her?”
Karen opened her mouth, then closed it again.
Nancy, the PTA volunteer who’d helped us earlier, stepped forward.
“Well, I think we should at least give Lily credit for her work.”
“Absolutely!” I agreed. “In fact, I have an idea.”
PURCHASED BY KAREN.
I grabbed a marker and a blank sign from our table.
A minute later, I held up my masterpiece.
BAKED BY LILY. PURCHASED BY KAREN.
Several parents burst out laughing.
Karen glared at me but reluctantly carried the sign back to Madison’s table.
“You can keep it, Karen.
“Wait!” someone called. “Where’s your chef’s hat, Karen?”
She froze.
I smiled.
“You can keep it, Karen. Consider it a thank-you gift from your favorite bakery.”
This time, even Madison couldn’t help laughing.
