Marriage Matters

Fifty

Standing on the sunny sidewalk, Chloe cupped her hands over her eyes and peered into the window of the cake shop. That afternoon, June had scheduled a cake tasting for the three brides-to-be. Chloe gaped in delight at the five-tiered creations with dramatic turrets of whipped cream.

“I can’t believe they actually let you just come in and eat cake. For free,” Chloe said. “Geez, if I would have known that, I would have slapped on some cubic zirconia and pretended to be engaged a long time ago.”

June laughed. She seemed to be hovering a little close to Chloe’s elbow. “You alright?” Chloe asked, giving her a funny look. Her grandmother was staring up at her with dark, troubled eyes. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Everything’s fine.” June fiddled with the bright pink cashmere balls dangling from her scarf. “In fact, that’s what I wanted to ask you. Are things going well? With you and Geoff?”

“Of course.” Chloe turned back to the window. The scallops of pink frosting looked particularly delicious. “He’s busy, I’m busy, Mary Beth’s a handful . . . the usual. Why?” As June cleared her throat, Chloe got the picture. “You want gossip to take back to your mahjong group! Forget it. My relationship with Geoff is my business. It’s private.”

“Yes, I know that,” June said. “I certainly don’t want to meddle.”

Chloe snorted. That would be the day.

“I just . . .” June’s voice seemed troubled. “I just wanted to make sure you’re happy.”

Chloe peered at her. Her grandmother looked unusually distressed. Behind her carefully applied makeup, her eyes looked drawn and tired. “Grandma, is . . . is everything okay with you and Charley?”

“What?” June demanded. “Please. We’re like carrots and peas.”

“Hi, guys,” Kristine called, rushing down the sidewalk. Her camel-colored wool coat billowed behind her like a cape. “Sorry I’m late! Things were busy at the store.” She kissed them both on the cheek. “What did I miss?”

“These cakes,” Chloe said, pointing.

Kristine looked at the cake in the window. “Oh, my gosh,” she laughed. “They didn’t let you do this type of thing when your father and I got married.”

“Me neither,” June said. “Back in my day, we had to think about whether or not our husband would even return to us alive, not what kind of cake we’d eat. The three of us are very, very lucky. We should respect this experience.”

A somber silence fell over the group. Then, June grinned.

“And just so you know . . .” She lowered her voice and gave a furtive look around. “There are all sorts of bakeries in this city. This doesn’t have to be our only stop. We can hit each and every one.”

Kristine laughed, linking her arm with Chloe’s. “Sounds like a plan.”

Inside, the scent of buttercream and spun sugar infused the air. Chloe stopped and breathed it in, before taking an eager look around. The shop was brightly lit, with a glass-covered pastry display case up by the cash register and extravagant photographs of all different kinds of wedding cakes lining the walls.

Chloe felt a twinge of disappointment. When June had first told her about the appointment, she described the bakery as something out of Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory. This looked like a normal bakery.

June spoke to the girl at the front desk and then beckoned. “Come on,” she said. “They’re ready for us.”

A woman in a white apron and chef’s hat stepped out from a swinging door that must have led to the kitchen. The woman’s cheeks were rosy and the patch on her apron read Carolyn in blue embroidery. “You must be the three brides here for the tasting,” she said, smiling at them. “Follow me.”

Pushing open a door with a floral mural painted on it, the three of them followed the pastry chef into a side room. As they walked in, Chloe felt a flash of excitement. Yes. This was exactly what she’d imagined.

The room was painted a pale cotton candy pink, with bright lavender accents and shabby chic pastel chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Display tables filled the room, covered with white tulle that spilled to the floor like spilt containers of sugar. On top of the display tables sat the most extravagant wedding cakes Chloe had ever seen.

The most impressive one sat in the center of the room. A seven-tiered cake with white frosting, it was embellished with gold-embossed trim, pastel fondant and fresh roses. It looked like the very cake that would have inspired Marie Antoinette to blurt out her famed quote.

“Wow . . .” Chloe breathed, looking at her mother. “Have you ever seen anything like this?”

Kristine smoothed back her red hair and surveyed the room. Chloe could almost see her wondering if she needed a guidebook to navigate a place like this. “No,” she said. “This is a first.”

“Isn’t it marvelous?” June’s eyes were bright. “I was half tempted to have our ceremony here.” Off Kristine’s eye roll, she said, “I know, I know. You’re right. Everyone would be too busy admiring the cakes to pay attention to the brides.”

Kristine exchanged a look with Chloe. “That’s not exactly what I was thinking,” she murmured, “but I’ll just let her keep living the dream.”

“You ladies look around and enjoy,” Carolyn instructed, wiping her hands on her apron. “I’ll go prep the samples.”

As Chloe’s eyes struggled to find somewhere to settle, they landed on a cake in the far corner. It was an oval creation with elegant ivory frosting. Understated white piping added flair to the bottom of each layer, while a forest-green ivy fondant wove up to the very top, to meet a lush bouquet of fresh red roses.

“Grandma,” Chloe said, walking over to it. She pointed. “This cake’s perfect for you. Roses, the garden . . . I think this might be your cake.”

June rushed over and studied it with a critical eye. “Maybe . . . maybe . . .”

“Chloe, look at this,” Kristine called.

Tearing her eyes away from the rose cake, Chloe headed over to see what her mother was looking at. On the way, she gaped at everything they passed. There was a gorgeous white cake with cornelli lace frosting topped off with a veil; a pink and silver heart-shaped cake standing upright and draped in red silk ribbon; a stately pulled sugar creation with pillars and votive candles propped between each layer . . . The options seemed endless.

“That’s adorable,” June said, admiring the cake Kristine had discovered.

“Isn’t it darling?” Kristine said. “Chloe, it’s perfect for you.”

The cake was three simple square layers with an elaborate fondant bow at the top. Its frosting was a pale Tiffany blue . . . just like the box that had held her engagement ring. Chloe smiled and said, “I should take a picture and text it to Geoff.”

“Take a picture?” June said, fondling the bow. “I’d just as soon eat it.”

“Mother.” Grabbing June’s hand, Kristine removed it from the cake. “You’re not supposed to touch anything.”

“Who says?” June demanded.

“Well, I don’t know.” Kristine gestured wildly at the tiny placards placed on practically every table. In neat black calligraphy, they read, Please refrain from touching the cakes.

As Chloe laughed, a tiny sparkle over by the window caught her eye. Taking in a sharp breath, she rushed over to it and stared. A dramatic waterfall of pastel flowers cascaded down the side, but the thing that had caught Chloe’s attention was the fact that, when the light fell just right, its frosting sparkled with a pinkish blue, iridescent glow.

“That’s it,” she breathed. “That’s my cake.” As June and her mother approached, studying it in confusion, Chloe said, “This is it.”

“I don’t know . . .” June squeezed her hands together, making a face. “It’s pretty basic. I was thinking . . .”

There was a squeaking sound as Carolyn pushed a rolling cart into the room. It was weighed down with a lavish assortment of miniature cupcakes. “Here we are,” she sang.

“Carolyn, before we go any further,” Kristine said, “which cakes can you make sparkle?”

The pastry chef squinted. “Oh. We can do that to any of them. It’s very simple.”

Chloe’s heart danced. “Alright,” she said. “Get me a cake that sparkles and everything else is completely up to you, Grandma. And you, Mom.”

Kristine gave a half-smile. “Oh, I think we all know who’s running the show.”

June was busy examining a life-size cake in the image of a bride. At their laughter, she looked up. “What? Did I miss something?”

Carolyn set up the bite-size cupcakes on the white wicker table at the corner of the room. “I’ve brought out a variety of different flavors for you to try. The cupcakes are labeled, so keep track with the list on the notepad by your plate.”

Eagerly, Chloe took a seat at the table, followed by June, then her mother. The pastry chef had set out a glass of water for each of them, along with a napkin and a full place setting. To the side of each plate was a small silver bucket. It looked just like a spittoon at a wine tasting but Chloe had no idea what it was for.

“The bucket,” Carolyn explained, noticing her confusion, “serves as a receptacle. Many brides choose to take a tiny bite of cake and discard the remainder.”

June’s mouth dropped open. “They spit out the cake? Why?”

“They spit it out because they don’t want to get sick, Mom,” Kristine said, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear. Chloe loved her mother’s new haircut. It made her look more fun, somehow. More relaxed.

Carolyn nodded, handing them each a piece of paper with a small pencil. “Use this to keep track as you go. If there’s a flavor combination you like, just give it a tiny star.”

Chloe looked down at the paper. In the chocolate column, there was a lengthy list: milk chocolate, dark chocolate, white chocolate, German chocolate, black forest and hazelnut. Below that, the options were angel food cake, butter cake, pound cake, tres leches and (oddly) wedding cake. The specialty flavors included carrot, tiramisu and red velvet.

Many of the cupcakes were frosted with buttercream, whipped cream or raspberry chocolate. The carrot and red velvet cake were, of course, frosted with cream cheese.

Chloe’s eyes scanned the options eagerly. She hadn’t eaten any breakfast, in preparation for this little extravaganza. Suddenly, an idea struck her.

“Hey, Grandma,” she said, kicking June under the table. “Want to see who can eat the most without spitting?”

June already had a cupcake halfway to her mouth. Her face lit up. “I’ll most certainly win.”

“Chloe, we are not at the county fair,” Kristine said. “We are selecting cake for your weddings.”

Chloe waved her fork. “Mom, you can either sign on as a judge or vacate the premises.”

June’s eyes surveyed the assortment of cupcakes. “I say we battle for the right to plan the bachelorette party. If I win, Bernice is doing it.”

A bachelorette party thrown by June’s friends? Even though Chloe’s grandmother was cooler than most, it didn’t mean her friends knew how to throw a good party. What would they do, knit?

“No way,” Chloe said. “My friends are in charge of that. Your friends do not know the first thing about throwing a bachelorette party.”

“Then you’d better win,” June cried.

Chloe grinned. “Done.” Dramatically, she reached for a square of dark chocolate cake. The cake was slightly spongy, with an earthy richness. The whipped cream frosting melted like a roasted marshmallow in her mouth. “Yum . . .”

June’s sharp eyes considered the cupcake in her hand, and she consulted with Kristine. “Should I stay away from the rich ones? Until she’s full?”

Chloe sank her teeth into the piece of tiramisu, sighing happily. “Doesn’t matter what you do, Grandma. I can eat cake for days.” The powdered cocoa on the tiramisu melded with her tongue like a kiss. It suddenly struck her that Ben would have enjoyed this tasting, since he liked tiramisu so much. Too bad they still weren’t really talking or she might have just brought him a cupcake.

“Pace yourself,” Kristine warned. “Old age and treachery beats youth and enthusiasm every time.”

June nodded. “That’s a fact.”

Chloe scoffed. “Keep telling yourself that.” She surveyed the cakes, trying to decide which to try next.

June reached for a piece of red velvet. “That’s strange,” she said after biting into it. “I thought it was going to taste like strawberries, not cocoa.”

Kristine was in the middle of dropping the remainder of a vanilla cake into her bucket. Hesitating, she said, “It’s red velvet. Why would it taste like strawberries?”

“Because it’s red,” June said. “Duh.”

Kristine raised an eyebrow. “That’s like saying it should taste like ketchup.”

Chloe nodded. Through a bite of cake, she said, “Or blood.”

Reaching for another piece, she hummed a little tune. The dark chocolate cake dissolved in her mouth like a piece of fudge, then she tried a spongy-type thing. It was all delicious. So rich.

Kristine wrinkled her freckled nose. “I’m getting sick just watching you.”

Carolyn nodded. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

Chloe considered the plate of cupcakes and suddenly, she hesitated.

Oh.

She was starting to feel a little ill. The sugar had set in and her vision was a little less focused than it had been moments before, but June’s expression was gleeful. It was not the time to start slowing down.

Reaching for the hazelnut, Chloe took a deep breath and bit down. It tasted like burned caramel or the smell of wood. Taking a sip of water, she reached for the tres leches. Smooth and creamy, but wow. Super sweet.

A little too sweet.

“Yum,” Chloe cried. Discreetly, she wiped her forehead with her napkin. For some reason, she’d started to sweat.

“Delicious,” June proclaimed.

Ugh. Chloe’s head had really started to pound. Would the carrot cake be lighter than the buttercream? The cream cheese frosting might be heavy. There was also a texture risk. If she felt a carrot or a piece of zucchini in her mouth right now, there was a very real possibility that she might gag.

Reaching for the buttercream, she brought it to her lips and hesitated. “Grandma, what number are you on?”

June looked down at her checklist. “Nine.”

Damn. Chloe was only at eight. Squaring her shoulders, she brought the cake up to her mouth.

“Oh, is that the buttercream?” June chirped. “It’s very rich. Like chewing on a stick of butter.”

Gross. Chloe’s hand shook. She forced herself to bring it to her lips.

“It’s like drinking a Crisco milk shake,” June said. “Like biting through a melted crayon.”

“Ugh.” Chloe dropped the cupcake into the bucket and laid her head on the table. “I can’t do it.” Grabbing for a napkin, she dipped it into the glass of ice water and pressed it against her face.

June cheered. “Say it,” she cried, pounding the table with glee.

Chloe groaned. “You win.”

As June did a little victory dance, Kristine laughed and shook her head. “Told you,” she said. “Age and treachery. Every time.”

June flopped down at the table, fanning herself. “I think I need a salad. I might be in a diabetic coma.”

Flustered, Carolyn jumped to her feet.

“She’s kidding,” Kristine said. “She’s doing just fine.”

“I can’t believe I lost.” Chloe buried her head in her hands. “Our bachelorette party is going to suck.”

June smiled. “Oh, I guess we’ll just see about that.”