The Icing on the Cake

  “Me too,” I muttered. At least my dad had gotten the mess taken care of. Sure, we had a gap in the ceiling, but unless it rained, we would probably be okay there. I hoped.

  Thank God for Kenny. He worked alongside me from start to finish, keeping the show going and bouncing back and forth from the soundboard to the stage. All of this with a bum arm. God bless him.

  Jolene stopped by the sound booth to whisper a little something-something in my ear. “If you don’t marry that boy,” she said with a wink, “I’m going to. He’s a peach, that one.”

  I wanted to remind her that she was already married, but decided not to. How could I argue with what she’d said? Kenny was a peach, all right. And together we made a fine pear. Er, pair. We worked side by side as in days gone by, and we managed to get the job done. I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing things would turn out okay in the end. The audience members would be pleased. Yes, with the exception of the technical stuff, the program was really coming together.

  Okay, there was that one incident with Bubba, who had accidentally brought the wrong track for his song. And the seniors’ choir had a rough time getting their harmonies together. Still, we were on a roll. And if Armando ever showed up, we’d have an impressive show, no doubt about it.

  Only, he didn’t show up. I looked at the back of the auditorium at least twenty times during the rehearsal but never saw him materialize at the soundboard. So I checked my phone at least a dozen times. Asked Kenny three or four times what we should do in Armando’s absence. I fended off questions from Devon, who seemed even more disappointed than I was.

  My already troubled mind began to play tricks on me. Maybe Armando had been in an accident. Maybe Cynthia—whoever she was—ended up with his phone and truly didn’t know him at all. That possibility left me nervous. What else could it be, though? He’d proven himself reliable in every way. Yes, an accident was the only thing that made sense. I closed my eyes and could almost envision him driving his sports car off the causeway bridge and into the bay.

  Lord, keep him safe, I prayed silently. And forgive me for judging him. Please let him be okay.

  That prayer stayed in my heart for the rest of the evening, from act to act, minute to minute. Many times I found myself offering up a silent but frantic prayer for the Almighty to spare Armando’s life.

  When the rehearsal ended and everyone left, I called Bella, who groaned when she heard the news of Armando’s absence. “I’m so sorry he’s let you down, Scarlet.” Her sigh resonated over the phone line. “And I guess it’s awful to say I’m not surprised. He . . . well, he does this kind of thing sometimes, and when he took off from the restaurant today, I had a weird feeling he would stay gone. He’s kind of . . . well, kind of a loner. Marches to his own drumbeat.”

  “You should have warned me.” You should have given me a heads-up from the beginning that he might bail just when we needed him most.

  “I’m really sorry.” She groaned again. “I’ve been hoping and praying that my brother would change. I actually thought I was seeing a difference, but maybe I was wrong. Again, I’m sorry he let you down.” She paused. “I guess you could say he put us all out. And on a lousy weekend too. I’m so exhausted right now. I hope I can get through this wedding, to be honest. Still, I’m not terribly surprised that he’s done this. I hate to say it, but I’m not.”

  “I see.” My disappointment shifted to frustration as my thoughts reeled backwards to the day of the cake challenge over a week ago. Had he really kissed me? That lousy good old boy? The one my aunt had tried to warn me about? Yes, and look where it had landed me. In charge of a fund-raiser with no one to run sound. Or lights.

  Okay, now I was delirious. I needed to get some sleep.

  Ending the call with Bella, I pondered my options. Sleep. It was the best plan. Tomorrow was a new day. I’d bake Hannah’s wedding cake. Go to Hannah’s rehearsal. Play the role of maid of honor with a smile. And pretend that today had never happened.

  If I could just stop being frustrated with Armando long enough to do all of that.

  19

  Butter Me Up

  Forget love—I’d rather fall in chocolate!

  Sandra J. Dykes

  I spent Friday morning working frantically, not just on the cakes for Hannah’s wedding but on products for my bakery as well. Customers still flooded the shop after reading in the paper that I’d fainted on television, so I couldn’t jump ship. I needed to keep baiting them until the show aired in a couple of weeks.

  With that in mind, I filled my cases with sugary delights of every kind. Kenny and I took turns waiting on customers and bouncing back and forth between the kitchen and the register. I never could have survived without him and reminded myself of that at least a dozen times.

  Hannah called approximately twenty times by midafternoon, filled with concerns about tonight’s wedding rehearsal and tomorrow’s big day. Typical day-before-the-wedding stuff. I did my best to console her and to reassure her that everything would come off without a hitch. In other words, I played my role as maid of honor with flair and ease.

  Until she asked how the cakes were coming. How could I tell her that I was only just now baking the cakes? She knew me better than that. By now I should have them baked, clear-coated, and chilled. I managed to convince her that things were under control with a hearty “Going great!” but secretly wondered how I would ever get them done if this train didn’t slow down.

  One thing struck me as odd. Aunt Willy never showed up on Friday morning. Not that we’d planned a get-together or anything, but I truly expected her to turn up at the bakery, dressed to the nines, what with Hannah’s wedding being such a big deal at Club Wed. But she didn’t.

  I thought about that as I left the shop around 4:30 to head home for a shower. I pondered it as I dressed for the rehearsal. But by the time I reached Club Wed, I’d put Auntie out of my mind altogether. Once I saw Hannah and Drew, I shifted gears—into maid of honor mode. The next twenty-four hours were all about the bride and groom.

  Well, mostly.

  We gabbed in the foyer of Club Wed, then headed into the chapel for the rehearsal. I greeted Hannah’s sisters, and before long Bella called us to attention, now in full-out wedding coordinator mode, right down to the clipboard in her hand. She placed us in order at the back of the chapel and gave us instructions on how to make our entrances up the aisle to the front, starting with the bridesmaids and ending with me. The other girls would be walking down the aisle with their husbands as groomsmen. Me? I would make the trek alone. Nothing like drawing a little extra attention to the maid of honor and pointing out the fact that she had no fella in her life. Yippee.

  Off they went, one skinny bridesmaid at a time, each with a hunky man on her arm.

  Deep breath, Scarlet. It’s going to be okay.

  When my turn came, I headed off . . . alone. I’d just taken a couple of steps with a pretend flower bouquet in my hand when a familiar voice sounded to my right.

  “Scarlet, I need to talk to you.”

  I glanced over to see Armando standing in the sound booth, and my heart quickened. Just as quickly, my anger rose to the surface.

  Forget it, buddy. You don’t stand me up one night, then pretend nothing happened the next.

  I shook my head and kept walking. No way was he ruining this night for me. He’d messed up one special evening; he wasn’t going to do the same for another. Staying focused on my best friend was critical. I wouldn’t think about anything other than her right now. Besides, we were in the middle of a rehearsal. He knew the routine.

  I tried not to look back at him after I passed by, but I found it difficult with those puppy dog eyes pleading with me.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I really am. But there’s a reason . . .”

  I didn’t want to hear his reason, and this wasn’t a good time anyway. Right now I needed to focus on my best friend. Tonight was her night. Well, hers and Drew’s. I glanced up at the groom-to-be standing at t
he altar. How wonderful he looked. How loving. Sweet. Dependable. How . . . unlike Armando.

  Ugh. Don’t think about Armando.

  Hannah’s sisters lined the front of the church. Trim. Svelte. Pretty. Practically perfect in every way. I felt odd in comparison and silently fretted about what I would look like tomorrow afternoon, being so much different in appearance than the others. Would the wedding guests pick up on the fact that my dress wasn’t like the other girls’? Probably, but at least I could tell everyone I was the maid of honor, right?

  Not that anyone would be looking my way. No, all eyes would certainly be glued on Hannah, who now appeared at the back of the chapel on her daddy’s arm. I couldn’t tell who was more teary-eyed, my BFF or her father, who sniffled all the way up the aisle. You would’ve thought this was the real deal, not just a rehearsal.

  I watched my best friend make her way toward us and couldn’t help the tears that flowed. I hadn’t planned for them, of course, but there they were. Shoot, was my mascara running? Nah. I’d used waterproof.

  Hannah took her final steps up the aisle on her father’s arm, looking half nervous, half excited. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught another glimpse of Armando in the sound booth. The guy was definitely in his element. If only he’d been in his element last night too. Then maybe I wouldn’t be so angry right now. I would look his way and smile instead of scowling inwardly.

  I really, really don’t like you right now, Armando Rossi. Just see if I ever talk to you again!

  My father took his role front and center to run the rehearsal. He smiled at Hannah and spoke several sweet words over the couple. The whole thing made me tearful, not just because Hannah was my best friend, but because I couldn’t stop thinking about how my father would react when it came time to perform my wedding.

  Likely he’d blubber all the way through it.

  Likely we both would.

  I almost lost track of what was happening until my father asked, “Who gives this woman to be married to this man?”

  Hannah’s dad squeaked out, “Her mother and I do,” dabbed at his eyes, and released his hold on her arm and placed it in Drew’s. I wasn’t sure Drew could see through the puddle of tears in his own eyes. He gripped Hannah’s arm so hard it looked a bit painful. Not that she complained.

  At this point Bella intervened and asked for someone to stand in for the bride. “No point in accidentally marrying the couple a day too soon,” she said. Drew didn’t look as if he minded that idea at all, but Hannah pouted a bit, probably just for fun. Still, it seemed it would be for the best. What if they accidentally said their “I dos” tonight instead of tomorrow? Then what?

  I took a little step backwards, silently willing them to choose anyone but me. With my luck, Bella would ask Armando to play the role of the husband-to-be. Thank goodness Hannah’s parents decided to take the place of the bride and groom, and we chuckled as they came to the “till death do us part” phrase.

  “Better get this right, Dad,” Hannah called out from her spot on the front pew. “I want to see you two married from now until when Jesus comes back.”

  This got a chuckle out of everyone in attendance. But the way I was feeling, Jesus could come back right now. I’d be thrilled not to have to deal with my mixed-up feelings toward Armando any longer.

  I blew out a slow breath and released a silent prayer to God to relieve me of my disappointment and frustration. Perhaps keeping my distance from Armando would be for the best. He could go back to doing whatever it was he did before he met me, and I would go back to trying to love Kenny.

  No, I wouldn’t. It certainly wasn’t fair to Kenny to string him along when I didn’t care for him. Besides, the guy had eyes in his head. He could see that I didn’t respond to his attentions the way he wanted me to.

  Pay attention, Scarlet! You don’t want to miss your best friend’s wedding rehearsal. She needs you.

  We carried on with the rehearsal, and it ended on a high note, with the groomsmen giving a rousing cheer as Hannah’s parents melted into a passionate kiss at the “I do” point. Bella gave some final instructions, then announced the rehearsal dinner, to be held in half an hour at Gaido’s on the seawall.

  Frankly, I could hardly wait to get through the rehearsal dinner and back to the bakery, where I planned to stay up all night decorating a cake . . . and eating as many sticky buns as I could to wash away the churning in my stomach.

  20

  How Do You Like Them Apples?

  She tells enough white lies to ice a wedding cake.

  Margot Asquith

  I couldn’t help but notice that everyone was coupled up as they headed out to the rehearsal dinner. Everyone but me, of course. I tagged along on their heels, feeling the weight of my aloneness as never before. Perfect. Just the way I wanted to end an already difficult evening. Nothing like driving to the dinner by myself.

  I made it to the lobby of Club Wed without drawing any attention to myself. Well, except for the part where I muttered all the way.

  I heard the sound of a bird trilling off in the distance. I looked up to discover the Rossis’ pet parrot, Guido, in his cage. The colorful bird appeared to be singing some sort of song. I took a couple of steps toward the cage, and the bird hollered out, “Go to the mattresses!” then began a machine-gun sound. Freaked me out a little. Then he lit back into his song, and I leaned in to make out the melody. Ah yes, “Amazing Grace.” Interesting.

  I thought of Armando, of all he’d been through over the past several years. How he’d shied away from his family. I thought of the grace God offered. Why couldn’t I offer the same grace now? Why not go back into the chapel and have it out with Armando and then forgive him for letting me down last night? Listen to his explanation? Talk it through? Ask him to go with me to the restaurant? That’s what a normal person would do.

  Then again, I’d never been accused of being normal, had I? No, I had not. And so I headed out into the dark parking lot, ready to make my way to Gaido’s . . . alone.

  Oh well. I’d make the best of this. And I’d have a great time. No matter how awful it was.

  At the last minute, Hannah came sprinting toward my car. “Can I ride with you?” she asked.

  “What about Drew?” I looked around, confused by her request.

  “His mom doesn’t drive at night anymore, and he offered to take her.”

  “But don’t you want to—”

  “They’re in her Mini Cooper. I hate being pressed into that tiny backseat. The last time I tried it, I couldn’t walk for hours afterward. Can’t risk that right now. I’ve got the most important walk of my life tomorrow—straight into the arms of my groom.” She giggled.

  Now, that I could relate to. Well, the car part, anyway. Not the walk down the aisle toward the groom part.

  I gestured for her to join me in my Jeep, and before long we were on our way, laughing and talking about how the rehearsal had gone. My stomach rumbled, and I could hardly wait to have dinner.

  We pulled into the restaurant parking lot, and I groaned when I saw Armando’s red sports car. Who invited him? Okay, so he was working sound for the rehearsal. Hannah probably invited him to be polite. Well, never mind all that. I would avoid him at all costs and remain focused on my best friend. She deserved the evening of her lifetime.

  I bit back a yawn as I climbed out of my car. Somehow I had to make it through this dinner, consume enough caffeine to keep me going, and head back to the shop to decorate the cakes for Hannah’s wedding. There would be no time tomorrow morning to do anything other than deliver and stack the cakes before I dressed and dove into maid of honor mode once more.

  Armando called out my name, and I glanced his way, unsure of what to do.

  Hannah must’ve heard him too. She glanced at Armando, then back at me. “I think he wants to talk to you, Scarlet.”

  I shrugged. “There was plenty of time to talk last night at our rehearsal.”

  Okay, there really wasn’t time to talk last
night, not with the ceiling falling through and Uncle Donny’s saw being de-teethed and all, but that was beside the point, wasn’t it? Point was, if the guy wanted to talk, he knew my number. He could’ve called.

  Armando approached, a sheepish look on his face. “Are you going to avoid me all night?”

  “Maybe.”

  At this point Hannah caught a glimpse of Drew and headed inside to meet him. She gave me that “take your time” look. Great.

  Armando touched my arm, and I tried to ignore the rush of emotion that coursed through me as he spoke. “Scarlet, I’m really sorry about what happened, but there’s a perfectly logical explanation, if you’ll just let me explain.”

  “Oh?” I tried to act nonchalant. “Is that so?”

  “Yeah.” Armando moved closer to me. “See, I went to Houston to—”

  “I know you were in Houston,” I said. “I called your phone.”

  “Oh, I know. I—”

  “I talked to Cynthia.” That should shut him up.

  “Cynthia?” He looked perplexed at the mention of her name.

  “Yeah.” I raised my eyebrows. “Cynthia. The girl who answered your phone. I talked to her last night, so I know you were . . . were . . .” Actually, I didn’t know what he was doing. Only that a girl named Cynthia answered his phone. Better stop right there before I said something I might regret.

  He shook his head. “Scarlet, listen, I can explain all of that. And you know me well enough to know I wouldn’t just stand you up like that. I know how important this fund-raiser is to you. To your whole church. That’s what I—”

  I took a couple of steps toward the door of the restaurant. “I don’t know you that well.” I spoke the words through clenched teeth. “Maybe I just thought I did.”

  He looked genuinely distressed at this proclamation. He shoved his hands in his pockets, his gaze shifting downward. “I was there for you at the cake challenge, wasn’t I?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  Now he looked me directly in the eye. “I got the new lightboard for your church, and I’m loaning you the soundboard too. I’m not a bad guy.”