The Belladonna Sisters Ch. 07

The preparations for Bonnie and Charlotte's appearance on Cupcake Battle continued, growing ever more intense as the deadline aired.

Dan and I helped the girls prep as best we could. We tried to envision every possible scenario. Movies were a possible category, and we spent a week going through what we hoped was an exhaustive list.

"Okay, next movie," I announced, sipping from my wine glass and scanning the list. "Here's a big one: The Godfather."

"Oh, fuck," Charlotte said. "Please, nothing with a horse's head."

"Leave the gun," I said. "Take the cannoli."

"What?" Bonnie asked.

"That's a line from the movie," I explained.

"I can't fucking believe I've never thought of doing a cannoli cupcake before." She paused, jotting it down in her notebook.

"That was easy," I said, glancing at the list. "Okay, next up is a tribute to the films of Nora Ephron. You know, Sleepless in Seattle, When Harry Met Sally."

"Fuck," Charlotte said. "What's a signature Seattle thing? Maybe the whole 'sleepless' angle and we'd do a coffee cupcake? When Harry Met Sally is New York. Hmm."

Dan started laughing.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I've got it," he announced. "Just make the most exquisitely awesome cupcake you can summon and call it the 'I'll-Have-What-She's-Having Cupcake.' What do you think?"

"Could work," Bonnie said.

We spent a few minutes working on Dan's idea. We finally settled on the idea of the Caffeinated Orgasm Cupcake. It would basically be the ultimate coffee cupcake, tying in Sleepless in Seattle with the famous line from When Harry Met Sally.

"Okay, what's next?" Bonnie asked.

I glanced at the list.

"Forrest Gump."

Bonnie frowned.

"Wow," she said. "One of my favorite movies, but I'm drawing a blank. Some variation of a theme on an Alabama dessert, maybe?"

"Shrimp cupcake," Dan offered jokingly.

"We'll hit the fifty states when we get through the movies," I said, rifling through my print-outs. "I've got lists of regional desserts and specialties."

"This is the toughest thing I've ever done," Bonnie said.

"That's what makes it worth doing," I said. "If it were easy, everyone would do it."

"Okay, that's another line from a movie," Charlotte noticed, thinking it over. "Tom Hanks said it in A League of Their Own. Is that movie on our list? What if Geena Davis is the celebrity judge?"

"There's no crying!" Dan said, imitating the film's most famous line to absolute perfection. "There's no crying in baseball!"

"What the hell would we do with it if that came up?" Charlotte wondered.

"Peach cobbler cupcake," I said at once.

"Peach cobbler?" Charlotte asked.

"The team in the movie," I said. "The Rockford Peaches."

Charlotte shook her head and finished off her glass of wine.

"I'd never have thought of that," she said. "This is incredibly stressful."

"We'll get through," I reassured her.

Bonnie smiled at me.

"What?" I asked.

"I love the way you and Dan talk in terms of 'us' and 'we' about this," she said. "The four of us are a team, aren't we?"

"We're more," I told her. "We're a family."

***

The final days leading up the taping and the day itself were right around President's Day. There were thus no classes at school so it was easy for me to be there for the girls. Dan sacrificed a couple of vacation days but was happy to do so to attend the taping.

Olivia stepped up to the plate, studying Bonnie's recipes so she could manage the store while the girls were taping the show in New York. Bonnie and Charlotte's mom Susan would also help Olivia out during the taping.

There was a moment I worried could be awkward. What had Bonnie and Charlotte told her mom about Dan and me? Had they mentioned us at all.

As it turned it out, her mom was a hippy-type who was open-minded and easygoing. I don't think she ever heard the details of what was going on at 221b, but she knew all about the polyamorous relationship Dan and I had with her daughters. Charlotte explained it to me.

"Trust me, she understands," she said. "She's been married to our dad forever, but Uncle Dave has always been part of our life, not to mention Aunt Judie. There our parents' best friends, if you catch my drift."

"I do."

Susan Belladonna was also, like her daughters, a hard-nosed entrepreneur. She ran an artisanal soap operation that raked in all sorts of cash.

I met her when I walked into the shop after work three days before the show and there was Susan behind the counter with Charlotte explaining the register to her.

"Andrew!" Charlotte exclaimed. "Look! It's my mom!"

Susan was friendly and welcoming and I was relieved. She was also a big woman, exactly like her daughters, in her early fifties and still attractive."

Susan gave me a hug and a big kiss on the cheek.

"So glad to meet half of my daughters' happiness," she said.

Dan and I drove up with the girls the next day. We piled into Bonnie's car and headed north. We were awash with anticipation, the New Jersey Turnpike passing by in a blur. The network put us up in a nice hotel overlooking Central Park. We navigated the tunnel into Manhattan and found the hotel. Parking in front, Bonnie handed a piece of paper to the valet. The next thing I knew the car was spirited away as doormen carted our bags up to our luxury suite.

They rooms were breathtaking. We had two bedrooms flanked by a huge sitting area in the middle with a view of Central Park. The bathroom was all polished marble with a massive shower.

"You've hit the big time," I observed.

"That all depends on tomorrow," Charlotte mused.

The next day the girls were mostly in the studios, filming all sorts of stuff in advance of the competition the following day.

Dan and I were on our own so we checked out the sights, had lunch at a famous falafel place, and returned to the hotel suite around three.

The scene which greeted us was not a happy one.

Charlotte stood near the door to the bathroom, a grim look on her face. I heard Bonnie moaning, clearly in distress.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Bonnie's sick," Charlotte said.

Less than twenty hours before their nationally-televised competition which could vault their business into the stratosphere, the girls were in trouble. Poor Bonnie was on her knees in front of the toilet sick as a dog.

***

It was long, rough night.

We'd hoped to all go out to dinner, but those plans were shot. All that mattered was Bonnie.

Dan and I sent Charlotte to bed around eleven – she needed her rest for the competition, after all – and took over caring for Bonnie. By that time, her stomach had emptied but she was coping with a fever.

Dan and I took turns watching over her. One of us was always at her bedside, the other sleeping on the couch in the common room of the suite.

I took the first shift, wiping Bonnie's brow and holding her hand until past two.

Past the limit of exhaustion, I called Dan in and let him take over. I flopped down on the couch and was asleep in thirty seconds.

I got up at six and went into Bonnie's room. Dan was leaning over her smiling.

"How's she doing?" I whispered groggily.

"The fever's broken," Dan said. "She's sleeping good."

Bonnie looked peaceful, though her sheets were drenched. I felt her forehead and she was cool.

"She's going to be fine, bro," Dan whispered.

"She'll be ready to kick ass," I added.

"Damn straight."

It would be a challenge, I was sure. They'd be up against competitive, talented people in a few hours. At least Bonnie would be in the game, though, right alongside Charlotte.

My money was still on the Belladonna sisters.

***

The girls had to be at the studios at nine for a noon taping of the show. We woke Bonnie at seven-thirty, giving her an hour to get ready before the car picked them up. She was shaky at first, sipping coffee and not saying much.

"How do you feel?" I asked.

"Better," she said, taking another sip of coffee. "Pretty good, actually. Let's have breakfast sent up."

Bonnie played it cautious, eating a whole wheat English muffin with butter washed down with another cup of coffee. It stayed down and she felt well as she headed off to the shower.

Dan and I accompanied the girls down to the lobby. They were dressed in jeans and their work t-shirts. Bonnie's hair was in a ponytail and Charlotte wore her customary braids. Each donned a bandana – Charlotte's was pink and Bonnie's purple, matching their shirts. They've never looked sexier.

We kissed them both and saw them into the limo sent by the network. Dan and I stood there on Fifth Avenue, watching the studio's limo spirit the girls away as the fashionably attired hurried by on their way to work.

"They're gonna kick fucking ass, bro," Dan said.

"Agreed," I said. "Come on, let's order a breakfast feast. I feel like eggs, bacon, sausage, you name it. Network's paying."

***

I've never paid much attention to cooking-competition shows, but I'd been an avid watcher of Cupcake Battle since the girls had been invited on. In person, it's nothing like you think. Reams of action get edited down to fifty minutes of programming. A good portion of what makes the final cut is intros and extraneous content, too.

They ushered us into the studio with the rest of the audience. The kitchen, complete with its multiple work stations and the pantry, was in the spotlight at one end of the space. Above the stage hung the massive Cupcake Battle logo featuring a pair of jousting knights atop a pink-frosted cupcake.

Surrounding the stage in a semi-circle was the audience arranged in a stadium-style seating pattern. There were a hundred or so people in attendance. Many were friends and family of the contestants.

A skinny blonde lectured us about the rules for the audience. Unless we were specifically referenced by the host or the panel of judges, we were not to cheer or shout out. We were to remain as silent as possible, or we would be escorted out of the studio. No second chances, either. Scream out a single "Go Belladonna Sisters!" and we were gone.

The host came out next. Charlie Highbridge was a high-energy Englishman with a pompadour who came off on TV like an idiot. In person, he was the essence of professionalism and friendliness. He talked warmly with the audience and sought out the friends and relatives of the contestants, speaking with each of them.

"You're the boyfriends?" he said to us, shaking our hands in turn. "Lucky blokes. Which one's the scientist?"

"That's me," I said. "They told you about us?"

"We'd a fine chat," he said.

The taping commenced, the panel of three judges introduced and taking their seats. Then came the contestants. Each entered and took their spots in one of the three kitchens stations.

Bonnie and Charlotte were in the middle kitchen, glancing at us and smiling. They were up against Cupcake Empire in Seattle, owned by a pair of likeable middle-aged gay guys. Gary and Craig had twenty year's baking experience, making them formidable opponents.

Bonnie and Charlotte also had to deal with the proprietors of Heartland Cupcakes in Omaha, Nebraska, a married couple named Paul and Palmyra. They were an odd pair. Paul was clean-cut with short blonde hair, blue eyes, and a small-town America vibe. Palmyra had bright pink hair and was covered in tattoos and piercings.

I couldn't help but wonder how they'd met, or what their sex life was like. Paul looked like he should be leading a Bible study group and Palmyra would've been perfect as the lead singer for a Goth punk band.

My inclination was to guess they're kinky people thrown together by some odd circumstance. I could see a lot of bondage and feverish group sex. Just a guess but, then again, I have a filthy imagination. Good for them if it's true, by the way.

The Belladonna sisters would also face off against Carrie's Cupcakes from Nashville. It was another husband and wife team. He had a full beard and mustache and wore a cowboy hat. She was all bubbly and blonde with a round face and broad smile. I got the feeling they'd both moved to Nashville to break into country music but failed so they opened a cupcake shop instead.

***

Round one began, Highbridge addressing the competitors in a disdainful voice I knew was part of the act.

"Cupcake competitors," he addressed them with mock seriousness that strained one's patience. "You have journeyed across our nation and arrive here, in New York City, eager to demonstrate your mastery of the cupcake. Are you ready?"

The competitors affirmed their readiness and Highbridge gestured to the curtain off to the side of the kitchen studio.

"Beyond this curtain are our three mystery judges," he told the competitors. "Are you ready to meet them?"

Without waiting for a response, Highbridge gestured towards the curtain and it rose.

"I present to you, judge number one," he went on. "Fernando Garibaldi, chef-owner of La Scalia, the gourmet Italian bistro drawing raves in Hell's Kitchen."

Next up was Marcia O'Shaughnessy, a famous pastry chef from Boston. She was conventionally-attractive, tall and skinny with black hair and pretty features.

The third judge – here comes our random celebrity! – was on the cast of a BBC series set in Victorian times I hadn't seen . She played Lady Emilie Rousseau-Weston, a Frenchwoman married into a British noble family circa 1890. Lady Emilie apparently spends a lot of time on the show shaking up her husband's crusty Victorian ideals and so scandalizing his extended family. I vaguely recalled hearing something about a Lady Godiva-style escapade in the season finale.

Her real name was Sophie something-or-other-French I didn't catch. She had dark auburn hair and a hauntingly-beautiful face. She was way too skinny for my tastes, though.

"Each judge," Highbridge continued. "Has in his or her possessions an envelope. Within that envelope is their selected theme for tonight's competition. Each judge has brought a theme of their own choosing. Earlier, the candidates drew straws and each gets to pick which judge they want to face first. First place t0day g0es to Carrie's Cupcakes."

The host paused, turning towards the proprietors of Carrie's Cupcakes.

"Mike and Carrie," he asked with wild exaggeration, gesturing towards the judges. "Who do you choose?"

Carrie stepped forward.

"We choose Judge O'Shaughnessy," she announced.

The host turned back towards O'Shaughnessy.

"Chef O'Shaughnessy," he asked. "What is the theme you have selected?"

"As you can tell by my name," O'Shaughnessy said, rising. "I'm of Irish descent. Not just a little Irish, either, but Boston Irish all the way."

I groaned inwardly. I'm one hundred percent Irish-American on both sides, but there's such a thing as overdoing it.

"It'll be March Sixteenth when this airs," she went on. "Saint Patrick's Day is tomorrow. I challenge you, contestants to construct a cupcake in honor of this day honoring Irish culture and heritage."

I practically jumped out of my chair. We'd brainstormed for this exact scenario!

"You have forty minutes!" Highbridge announced. "Beginning now."

***

Bonnie and Charlotte presented their cupcakes last. The previous entries were all mediocre and haphazard. The Belladonna sisters, however, submitted a work of art.

"The cake is a Guinness and chocolate-flavored blend," Bonnie explained. "It's topped with a whisky-infused cream and a chocolate-caramel harp seasoned with Irish sea salt."

"Why the harp?" O'Shaughnessy asked.

"The harp is the visual center of the cupcake," Charlotte explained. "As well as a traditional symbol of Ireland. The harp embodies the spirit of the Irish people perfectly. Despite all the tragedy and struggle the Irish have faced over the millennia, they remain a people of poetry and music. The harp, to me, represents the resiliency of the Irish."

O'Shaughnessy nodded thoughtfully, smiling.

"Well said," she remarked.

In the final editing of the show, all that got in of Charlotte's speech was:

"The harp is the visual center of the cupcake as well as a traditional symbol of Ireland."

***

Bonnie and Charlotte won the first round easily. The broadcast was edited to make it seem suspenseful, but in person it wasn't. All three judges had nothing but praise for the final product, straining to nit-pick a criticism.

"They've got this, bro," Dan whispered.

"I hope so," I said.

Carrie's Cupcakes were eliminated after the first round. That left Cupcake Empire and Heartland Cupcakes standing in Bonnie and Charlotte's way. The second judge to go was Chef Garibaldi, chosen by Paul and Palmyra.

"Just as Chef O'Shaughnessy asked for a cupcake in honor of her Irish heritage," Garibaldi said. "I want you to create a cupcake that honors the culinary history of Italy."

"National themes," I whispered. "Based on the judge's heritage. Ireland, Italy. France is next. Got to be."

"They can do France, bro," Dan whispered back. "We prepared for France."

Bonnie and Charlotte presented the judges a Cannoli Cupcake similar to what they already featured on their menu. Bonnie explained the cake part was an Ameritti, which meant it was flavored with Amaretto. This, Bonnie explained, was a traditional cake from Milan.

Atop the cake was a beautiful beige mascarpone-based frosting flavored with more amaretto and also cinnamon and walnuts.

It looked pretty good to me, and the judges all seemed to like it, but Chef Garibaldi added some harsh remarks at the end.

"Although it is well-conceived and certainly very tasty," he said. "I can't help but notice you've used alcohol as a flavoring two cupcakes in a row. I'd like to see you expand your horizons if you make it to the final round."

Bonnie and Charlotte survived the second round, Gary and Craig produced a biscotti cupcake which was a total disaster and got them sent back to Seattle.

The odd couple of Paul and Palmyra were all that stood between Bonnie and Charlotte and victory.

"We have only one judge left, one final round between yourselves and cupcake domination," the host announced. "Judge Sophie."

"Contestants," Sophie began. "As you know, I am from France. Provence, to be specific. But what you may not know is my mother was Dutch. Her birthday is next week. And so, in honor of my mama, I charge you with creating a cupcake inspired by her homeland."

"Holy shit," I whispered. "The Netherlands?"

"Did we prepare for the Netherlands?" Dan wondered.

"I'm sure," I said. "Wait a sec, let me think. Uh, they prepped for apple tarts with whipped cream. Easy to convert to cupcake form."

When the host announced the start of the next cooking period, the two teams huddled up. Bonnie whispered something to Charlotte and she stood straight-up, eyes flashing as she struggled to contain her smile. I watched them as they sprang into action. Whatever Bonnie came up with, they were laser-focused on it.

I watched them closely, trying to puzzle out what they were doing. The judges and the host watched, as well, commenting the entire time. They were baffled by Bonnie's making several colors of frosting. There was bright blue, dark blue, yellow, and even white.

"What the hell?" Dan whispered.

The next second I recognized the colors and realized what Bonnie was up to. I knew at that moment they were unstoppable.

"Holy shit," I gasped.

"What is it, bro?" asked Dan.

"They're gonna win, that's what! They've fucking got it."

Bonnie presented the cupcake sans cup, peeling away the wrapping. It was all blue and yellow swirls in the cake, topped with bright blue frosting decorated further with swirls of white and yellow and wavy chocolate trees rising vertically from atop it all.

"Judges," Bonnie said, addressing them. "May I present to you the Vincent Van-Gogh-inspired Starry Night Cupcake. Enjoy."