Read The Bake-Off for Free Online Page B

she’d intended.
    â€œWell, that’s your prerogative, I suppose, but it’s such a shame. You’re sisters.”
    â€œExactly. We’re sisters, not friends. We happen to share some DNA through circumstances beyond our control. That doesn’t mean I have to feel guilty over not bonding with her.”
    Grammy sighed and gave up. “Well, have it your way, darling. Go tend to your cookies, and let’s see if we can’t arrange a family dinner next weekend. I’d better call Linnie before I go to bed.”
    â€œWait.” Amy knew she should quit while she was ahead, but couldn’t seem to help herself. “Don’t ask her yet. Let me think about it.”
    â€œI’m going to the post office first thing in the morning,” Grammy said.
    â€œI know.” Amy flung open the back door and flapped a dish cloth to air out the smoke-filled kitchen. “You promise I don’t have to do any actual baking?”
    â€œPerish the thought. You’d only be there for moral support and a smidge of prep work. And press interviews, naturally. You’re very photogenic, you know.”
    â€œI’m aware that I’m being manipulated.”
    â€œDon’t be ridiculous; I would never manipulate anyone,” Grammy said sweetly. “So shall I sign you up or not?”
    Amy took a deep, bracing breath and said, “Okay. I’m in.”
    A few minutes later, Brandon wandered into the family room, munching a scorched cookie.
    â€œWho was that?” he asked, nodding toward the phone.
    â€œGrammy Syl.”
    â€œWhat’d she have to say?”
    â€œPour yourself a glass of wine and prepare to have your mind blown.” A slow, stunned smile spread across Amy’s face. “The time has come to invest in a rolling pin.”
    Â 
    The next day at noon, as she drove the four miles from the dental office to the day care to take advantage of the center’s drop-in policy and eat lunch with Chloe and Ben, Amy called the florist to make sure that her order had been delivered. Then she took a fortifying gulp of lukewarm coffee and dialed her parents’ number.
    T he phone rang twice before someone picked up, but all Amy could hear was a series of high-pitched, wince-inducing barks.
    â€œHello?” Amy pulled out of the parking lot and held her phone a few inches away from her head. “Mom? Dad?”
    â€œHang on.” Her mother’s voice was barely audible over the barking, which escalated in both frequency and volume.
    Two red lights later, the barking stopped and Amy’s mother came back on the line, sounding breathless. “Amy? Is that you?”
    â€œIt’s me.”
    â€œSorry about that. Rhodes just got home from the groomer, and you know how he hates getting his nails clipped. Then a deliveryman rang the doorbell, and that sent him over the edge.”
    â€œYou got the flowers I sent you?” Amy asked.
    â€œI did, honey. Thank you. You’re so sweet to remember that tulips are my favorite.”
    â€œThat’s me.” Amy felt a bit wistful. “The good daughter.”
    She had always been the good daughter in the Bialek family. Even as a baby, she’d been jolly and mellow, sleeping through the night at only six weeks old and greeting strangers with gurgles and a big toothless grin. When she was three and a half, Linnie was born, and everyone remarked on how smoothly Amy made the transition from only child to big sister.
    Linnie, on the other hand, had never been easy. She was fussy and high-maintenance from day one, requiring special formula, wailing for hours every evening with colic, refusing to sleep unless the lighting, background noise, and temperature were exactly right. As she progressed from infant to little girl, Linnie demanded ever more of her parents’ time and attention. While Amy was the good daughter, Linnie was the gifted one, the wunderkind who needed to be coddled and