Always the Baker, Finally the Bride

by Sandra D. Bricker

  “It’s a delicate balance,” Fee told them. “To get it just right, you have to—” She cut herself off as she noticed Jackson. “Hey, Jackson. Everyone, this is our resident big cheese. Jackson Drake owns The Tanglewood.”

  “Hello!”

  “Emma and Kat are in her office,” Fee pointed out, but he’d already seen them through the glass and started on his way toward them.

  “Thanks, Fee.”

  Emma looked up when he opened the door, and Kat grinned at him. “Speak of the man himself.”

  “Am I interrupting?”

  “It’s wedding talk,” Emma told him. “I think you can come in.”

  He sat down next to Kat. “Topic?”

  “My aunt Sophie. She seems to be under the impression that she is the maid of honor for this, our umpteenth wedding.”

  Jackson chuckled. “And you want me to break the news to Sherilyn.”

  “No.” Emma shot him a lopsided smile. “I’m asking Kat to order another bouquet so that I can make sure she has one, too.”

  “That’s a nice idea.”

  “It is,” Kat said. “So it got us to thinking about ways to incorporate a few of the family members. Emma has come up with a really lovely idea, and we’re just working out the details.”

  “I’ll leave you both to it, then. Just tell me where to be, and when. I think that’s my role as the groom, according to Sherilyn. Correct?”

  “Basically,” Kat replied.

  Jackson got up and started out the door, and then he paused. “Oh. Emma. Did you pick up the rings from the engraver?”

  She groaned. “I knew you’d forget!”

  “I didn’t forget, oh ye of little faith,” he defended. “I was just later than planned.”

  “But you have them now.”

  “No. You do.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “Jackson,” she said, standing up. “I do not have the rings.”

  “They told me you picked them up a couple of days ago.”

  “Well,” she laughed uneasily, “I didn’t.”

  Jackson and Emma both looked at Kat, and she jumped. “Well, I didn’t either!”

  Emma dropped slowly to her chair and stared straight ahead of her, at nothing in particular. After a moment, her hands popped to either side of her head, and she rubbed her temples. The action had become a recent cue for Jackson.

  “Okay, okay,” he said as he squeezed around the desk and grabbed her by the arm. He gently nudged her to her feet and led her toward the door. “Kat, you’ll look into this for us, won’t you?”

  “Uh . . . yes! Absolutely.”

  “I am going to take this sweet girl to Morelli’s for a snack and a nice hot cup of tea.”

  “Great idea.”

  “No, I . . .” Her objection fell to the floor, and she surrendered, allowing Jackson to lead her out into the kitchen.

  Fee followed them to the other door. “Emma, I think Sharona is a good bet for the new position. Do you want to talk to her when—” She fell silent and looked up at Jackson. “Is she all right?”

  “Talk to Kat.”

  His arm around Emma’s waist, Jackson led the way to the restaurant and smiled at the hostess.

  “Good afternoon,” she said, straightening when she saw them.

  “A cup of coffee and a pot of tea, Lucy? We’re just going to take that table over there.”

  Emma sat down, and he slipped into the chair across from her.

  “Are you breathing?” he asked, and she nodded. “Good. Can you speak?”

  She blinked before narrowing her eyes and glaring at him. “Yes, Jackson. I can speak.”

  “Okay. Just checking.”

  “What do you suppose happened to our rings?” she asked. “It’s not like we have the time to replace them before the wedding.”

  “We won’t have to replace them. Kat’s going to find out that they were just misplaced at the store, or accidentally given to another couple, the Blakes, who will be returning them to correct the mistake any time now.”

  “The Blakes?”

  He shrugged. “Blake, Drake. You can see how it could get confusing.”

  Emma snorted and tapped his hand. “You’re crazy.”

  “Maybe so, but at least I’m not Tom Blake, coming home with someone else’s rings, right?”

  She sighed, and a smile wiggled its way across her face. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “You know.”

  “Making you laugh?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I’m a very funny guy, missy. You’ll be laughing your fanny off for the next sixty or eighty years.”

  “Oh. Good,” she said sarcastically before pulling a face and giggling. “Can I talk to you about the wedding?”

  “As long as you don’t say anything about the rings.”

  “I promise.” She reached across the table and touched his hand. “I had this kind of cool idea about honoring our family members during the ceremony, and I want to see what you think.”

  She’d only just begun to explain when Kat appeared at the head of their table. Her frazzled expression didn’t bode well for his attempts at alleviating the stress of the moment.

  “Nothing?” Emma asked her.

  “They’ve checked the back room, and the rings are definitely not just misplaced. They’re not anywhere in the store.”

  “Oh, no . . .”

  “But someone did sign for them two days ago, and she’s going to fax the receipt over to me so we can see the signature.”

  “Okay.”

  “Stay calm,” Kat said as Lucy delivered a tray of beverages to the table.

  “We have that herbal chamomile you like,” Lucy declared, and Emma gave her a smile.

  “Is Pearl in yet?”

  “Yes. She’s in the kitchen with Mr. Morelli.”

  “Could you do me a favor, please? Ask her if she wouldn’t mind making me another fruit bowl like she makes for me sometimes? It has grapefruit in it, and little graham crackers on the side.”

  “I’ll ask her right away.”

  “Thank you, Lucy.”

  “Sure thing.”

  “Drink your tea,” Kat told her. “Relax. By the time you’re finished, I’ll bet we’ll have some answers.”

  “But did she say—”

  “Emma,” Jackson said, squeezing her hand, “you heard Kat. Relax, and she’ll do the investigating for us.”

  The look on Kat’s face as she left the table set the acid to churning in Jackson’s gut, but he didn’t let on when Emma glanced up at him.

  “Everything is going to be fine. Finish telling me about your idea for the ceremony.”

  “Well, that tears it!” she exclaimed, leaning against the chair back with a sigh. “I’ve ruined you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You’ve got that look in your eye. The one we all get when we’re trying to cut through my aunt’s crazy talk without making her panic.”

  “Is it working?” he asked.

  “Little bit. Yeah.”

  Emma’s Afternoon Fruit Bowl Snack

  [Note: Also serves well with an omelet for a full meal.]

  2 cups red grapefruit sections, chilled

  1 banana, sliced

  ¼ cup walnut pieces

  1 tablespoon fresh mint, chopped

  1 tablespoon honey

  Drain the juice from the grapefruit, setting aside

  a small amount.

  Combine all ingredients except the honey and the juice.

  Stir the small amount of juice into the honey until

  it looks like a glaze.

  Toss gently, and drizzle the top with the honey

  glaze mixture.

  Serve in a chilled bowl.

  18

  Kat rushed into Emma’s office, preceded by the paper she waved frantically.

  “Crisis averted,” she declared, and she plopped into the c
hair across from Emma. “Our culprit is Sherilyn. She was afraid Jackson had forgotten, so she picked up the rings.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “I knew the minute I saw the signature, so I called and verified with her. She has them in a very safe place, and Andy will pass them to Jackson.”

  “Thank the Lord!” Emma breathed, and she fell back against her chair. “Did she say why she didn’t bother to let anyone know she had them?” Before Kat answered, Emma waved her hand. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

  The phone on her desk rang, and Emma groaned. “This thing hasn’t stopped all day.”

  “I’ll go,” Kat said as she stood up.

  “Thanks for letting me know,” Emma said as Kat left. Snatching the receiver, she pushed a smile into her voice. “Emma Rae Travis.”

  “Emma, it’s Audrey.”

  “Hi. How’s married life?”

  “So far, so good. Do you have a minute?”

  “Sure,” she lied. The truth was she didn’t have ten spare minutes in the rest of the workday.

  “You’re going to get a call sometime this week from a woman named Valerie Platt. I told her about you over lunch today. She puts on a huge fashion event in Atlanta every year, and they’re interested in having a specialty cake designed, as well as an enormous dessert table. I told her you are the only one she should talk to.”

  Emma’s stomach dropped a little. “When is this event?”

  “Not until late fall.” Thank God. “The event gets a ton of press, and I thought it might be a nice opportunity for you.”

  “I appreciate that,” she said as her head began to throb.

  “I’m going to be there showing a spring preview for Riley.”

  “That’s great.”

  “Anyway, if you have any trouble with her, or you need anything at all, give Billie a call and she—”

  “Billie?”

  “Oh. My assistant.”

  “I didn’t know you’d replaced Kat.”

  “Kat is irreplaceable,” she said with flourish. “But she left me no choice when she went out there and made a name for herself, the ungrateful thing.”

  Emma chuckled. “I know. She’s that way.”

  “I stole Billie from Wes LaMont last year.”

  “Oh, that horrible designer who tried to steal your ideas.”

  “Didn’t try, Emma. He succeeded. The good news is that his Rubenesque line has been a great big flop. Probably because he clearly couldn’t stand the women he designed for. Anyway, just call Billie if you need anything, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “At Sherilyn’s. Your slumber-shower.” Emma’s silence set Audrey to laughing. “Oh, Emma, you forgot all about it, didn’t you?”

  “Don’t tell Sherilyn.”

  “I promise. Will I see you there, then?”

  “If I have to crawl.”

  Just as she hung up, Fee stepped in and closed the office door behind her.

  “I have a present for you.”

  Emma looked up, bewildered. “A present?”

  Fee held up a small plastic box with a crooked bow taped to the top, which she slid across the desktop as she sat down. “Open.”

  Emma popped the lid and stared down at it. A large, strange-looking watch? “What is this?”

  “A portable blood pressure cuff. You just strap it on like a watch, press the gray button, and it will tell you if you’re about to have a stroke. Handy, huh?”

  Emma couldn’t hold back the string of stress-induced chuckles that bumped out of her. “A stroke, you freak? You’re worried about my stress levels and my blood pressure, and you put that thought in my mind?”

  “Shut it,” Fee told her, and she stood up and leaned across the desk. “Let’s take it out for a spin on its maiden voyage, shall we?”

  Before Emma knew what happened, Fee had strapped the thing to her wrist and pushed the button.

  “Stop it. I can do it.”

  “I’m sure you can. But will you?”

  As the monitor ticked through the numbers, Emma smiled at Fee. “Thank you, Fiona. It’s a very thoughtful gift.”

  “It is, isn’t it?”

  The moment the thing beeped at the finish, Fee accosted Emma’s wrist and looked at the reading.

  “I suspected as much.”

  “What? What is it?”

  “164 over 99, Emma. This is way too high. What are your blood sugars doing? Have you had anything to eat?”

  “Fiona, I know you’re trying to help, but—”

  “Just answer the question. Do you need something to eat?”

  “No. I do not.”

  “What’s your glucose?”

  “An hour ago, it was 107.”

  “All right, then it’s just your pressure.”

  “I started blood pressure meds recently. It really shouldn’t be that high,” Emma admitted, tapping the face of the wrist monitor.

  “Smack it all you want. I don’t think it’s lying.”

  Emma’s cheeks puffed with air before she blew it out and closed her eyes.

  “Call your doctor, please.”

  Emma straightened, keeping her eyes closed. “I have an appointment with her tomorrow. Tell me about Sharona.”

  “Call your doctor, then I’ll tell you all about how she’s going to make your life much easier.”

  Emma opened one eye, and Fee pasted a huge mock-smile on her face.

  “Call.”

  Reluctantly she picked up the phone and dialed.

  “Stephanie? It’s Emma Travis. Is Dr. Mathis still around?”

  “She’s with her last patient of the day, Emma. Is there something I can help you with?”

  “I have an appointment with her tomorrow, so she may want to just wait until then. She put me on those blood pressure pills when I saw her last, but my reading is . . .” Looking at the face of the cuff, she read, “164 over 99.”

  “Eww.”

  “High, right?”

  “Yes, that’s high. Let me talk to her, and I’ll call you back. Are you at home?”

  “No. You can call my cell.”

  “Okay. Give me half an hour.”

  “Thanks, Steph.”

  Emma hung up the phone and glared at Fee. “Happy?”

  “Giddy.”

  “Tell me about Sharona.”

  “She’s top of her class at the institute, set to graduate in a couple of weeks. She excels in piping, fondant, and sculpting. Her sugar flowers are almost better than mine . . .”

  “Wow.”

  “I said ‘almost.’ ”

  “Right. I got that.”

  “And we have a good working chemistry. I think the three of us could be a really good team, Emma.”

  “Okay. I’ll talk to her. Will you set it up?”

  “She’s in tomorrow morning to help with the tearoom menu. We’ve got a group of twenty coming in at two o’clock.”

  “Did I know that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, good. Hey, while I’m thinking of it, Audrey has referred us to someone handling a big fashion deal in Atlanta in the fall.” Emma checked the notepad next to her phone. “Valerie Platt.”

  “I’ll be on the lookout.”

  “Speaking of which, did you know Audrey has a new assistant?”

  “Billie. I had breakfast with her and Kat yesterday.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah. She’s cool.”

  “How do you have time to have breakfast with people? It took me two days to schedule an argument with Jackson.”

  Fee cackled as she got up and headed for the door. “Last chance. Get you something to eat?”

  “No. I’m fine.”

  “Wait for that call back from your doctor.”

  “Have you always been this much of a nag?”

  “No. It’s something new I’m trying.”

  “Well, I don’t like it.”

  “Yes, you do. You just won’t realize it
until it wears on you a little more.”

  It looked to Emma like she might be the last to arrive at her own bridal shower, but her appointment with Dr. Mathis had taken far longer than she’d anticipated. They’d gone over the results of the labs, talked about adding a few supplements to her diet, and discussed possible nutritionists.

  She pulled up in front of Andy and Sherilyn’s house, hugging the curb while trying not to drive too far into the grass. Several other cars already filled the driveway and lined the street beyond the mailbox. As she climbed out of her Mini Cooper and grabbed the knapsack and purse from the floor, she spotted Andy making his way across the lawn wearing a funny pink bulging sack strapped across his chest.

  “Is that my little Isabel in there?” she called with a grin as they closed the gap between them.

  “Either that, or I need to go on a diet,” he retorted, patting the sack where Isabel’s diapered fanny pressed against it.

  “That’s a good look for you,” she said with a nod toward the duck-covered diaper bag hanging from his shoulder. “Can I take a peek at her? I’ll be quiet about it.”

  “Of course. And no need to be quiet. This little one could sleep through a Def Leppard concert.”

  “Tested that out, have you?”

  Andy chuckled. “We’re still on Seger. Working our way up the decibels.”

  Emma tickled Isabel’s cheek with one finger and cooed at the sleeping baby. “She’s beautiful, Andy.”

  “She’s all Sherilyn.”

  Her heart squeezed a little at the genuine love Andy had for her best friend, and she clicked her tongue and smiled. “Has the party started yet?” she asked, and she tossed her knapsack over one shoulder.

  “Has it ever. Go on in.”

  Emma adjusted the strap slipping from Andy’s shoulder. “Are you running away from home for the night?”

  “Giving my mother a little face time with her granddaughter.”

  “Send my best.”

  “Will do. Have fun.”

  Emma made her way to the front door and turned the knob. The moment it opened, Sherilyn stood there beaming at her.

  “The bride is here,” she called out over her shoulder before moving in for an enthusiastic embrace. “Let the slumber-shower commence.”