How to Bake the Perfect Wedding Cake

by Gina Henning

  “Well, Joe barely gave me enough time to make it a wedding at all. What was it, honey, like a week’s notice?” AJ jabs her husband to her right. He glances up from his breadstick dipping frenzy and laughs.

  “Hey, AJ, when you know you’ve found the right one, why wait? Right?” He laughs and I can’t help but join in with him. It’s endearing and sweet.

  “What about you?” I glance at Katie and Anders. Both reach for their glasses. Crap. Obviously, this is a question that neither want to answer. Jack’s eyes are on me and he shakes his head.

  “All right, appetizers, yes?”

  “You’re the boss,” Kristen says with a laugh. “But not for long—right, Lauren? Remember the man might wear the pants, but the women control the zipper.” She laughs. My face heats. “I’m just teasing you, sweetie. Have you two decided when you’re going to have kids? Don’t wait too long. People wait too long these days.”

  The waiter returns with the wine, perfect timing. Thank goodness. I don’t want to discuss when we are going to have children with Jack’s co-workers, no matter how sweet they are. I want to push fast forward on the production of popping the cork and offering it to Jack to sniff. It would certainly be a faux pas if I just reached for the bottle and took a long hard swig. I maintain my self-control and wait for the proper moment when the waiter offers a glass for me to sample.

  I take the glass and avoid the normal swirling and take a sip. A polite sip. One that says yes, this is good. Though it is—the Cabernet is woodsy from the oak barrel it obviously was stored in—but I’m sensing heavy clay. This wine must be from Chile or something. It’s so earthy and the tobacco notes complement it well. I’m assuming Jack is going to want to pair it with steak.

  The waiter fills my glass to a bit under halfway. I’m not being pessimistic about the pour—it really is a little shallow. It should be at the halfway point. Despite this being a Michelin-starred restaurant, they might need to skill their staff with the proper wine pour. I say nothing. I wouldn’t say anything even if it was just Jack and me, but I definitely wouldn’t in front of his co-workers.

  “So where will you guys live?” AJ winks at me.

  “I’ve got— We have a place not far from here.”

  “Right, where you are staying now, but after the wedding, will you get someplace bigger? Jack mentioned it wasn’t that big,” Kristen says as she takes a sip of her wine.

  “Um, it’s a three-story townhouse so not small by any means. But actually Jack found us a beautiful home with more space and land.” I glance at Jack and smile. He returns my grin with a sparkling dose of happiness. His eyes are always filled with love. My insides warm. “I guess we’ll be moving in there soon.”

  “Sounds perfect for all the kids you’re going to have. Those youngins will need room to roam.” AJ lets out a soft laugh. She is funny. I could see us hanging out. Maybe when I do have kids. But that’s a ways away. Not anytime soon.

  I take in a deep breath and inhale the notes of the wine. I’m being whisked away into a forest with a depth and certainty…it’s so far from this moment of questions. I want to dive into the wine and swim off to this earthy-flavored destination and forget about the future and planning, and babies for tonight. I let the heaviness of the wine lie upon the back of my tongue and take another sip. This is heaven. Tasty wine. Better than my glass earlier at Shantilly’s. An amazing man and fun chat with new friends. I want to get to know Jack’s co-workers and find out about them and what their relationships are like with Jack. Obviously I won’t ask any more relationship questions—at least not of Katie and Anders.

  “So, Lauren, Jack says you are some sort finance whiz? What’s that like having two lefties in a relationship?” Kristen’s brown eyes are warm and full of cheer and she’s delivered a question that has never crossed my mind. How is this possible?

  “Oh, um…well I’ve never really thought about it—odd, right?” I let out a laugh and take another sip of my wine. Bring on the courage.

  “That’s so funny. See, Patrick and I well…he is the artsy one. He’s a glass blower and, well, you know I’m an architect like Jack. Anyways, I just didn’t think I would end up with an artsy person, you know?” She laughs at me and our glasses clink together as if we are sharing an inside joke.

  Patrick clears his throat. “Yes, except you aren’t all numbers and lines. And even if you were there are other areas where you are definitely not left-brained.”

  Kristen’s face turns a shade of crimson and I catch Jack’s eye. He winks at me. He sends me over with a quick movement of his lid. He could make me swoon a thousand miles away. He could make me swoon with one word. We have our special word. Ready. I’m so ready for him and for us and our wedding. We are so connected. It was like we were on two separate boats drifting out in our own seas of possibilities and now our boats have linked up. Maybe this is why he wants the bigger house? Like if we were at sea we wouldn’t want to be in our two separate boats; we would want one boat. I semi-understand his bigger house idea, now. His eyes bore into mine like he knows what I’m thinking and like it’s just us at this table. I know it isn’t but we are sharing a moment that makes everything better.

  Our dinner progresses and finally Katie and Anders open up a bit too. I’m guessing they are on the cusp of becoming engaged but it hasn’t happened yet. Which makes sense for my earlier question and the response from the table.

  Kristen is nice—I could see us hanging out again as couples. Playing Cards Against Humanity even. She has a wicked sense of humor.

  AJ and Joe are older but their relationship is sweet and kind—the type that you know will last forever.

  When the bill arrives everyone grabs for their wallet except me. I know there is no way Jack would let me pay, so why should I play the game of “oh no let me”?

  The waiter has a worried look upon his face and Jack eyes him with a stern politeness that oozes control. He gives him the card and waves off everyone else and their protests. I’m sure the bill was really expensive. But it is nice being with someone this generous, whether he is expensing it or not. I gulp.

  We haven’t had a proper money talk yet. He avoided my last attempts to set some guidelines. I have no idea if Jack has a grocery cart full of credit card debt or if he is loaded. Well, I know he has plenty of money for Vintage Estates, but should I be concerned about anything else? I’m sure there is a book on questions you should as your soon-to-be-spouse. Maybe, I’ll go to the bookstore tomorrow and grab one. Not that I need him to support us; I also have a career. But we should probably talk about this again properly. And soon.

  As the dinner comes to an end we each make it to the valet stand and give our goodbyes. Kristen hands me her card. “Call me if you need anything. We just uprooted from Dallas and I’m really missing out on my girl time.”

  My insides warm over. “Oh thank you, yes I’ll definitely call. It was great to meet you.” It’s a little cool. I rub my arms. “Jack, I forgot my blazer. I’ll run back in and get it.”

  Jack glances down at my feet. “I’ll get it. Walking on stilts always takes longer.”

  I roll my eyes and laugh. He gives me a wink and rushes back into the restaurant.

  “Hey, Lauren, it’s seems like we are always running into each other.”

  I take a step back. “Trent.” What is he doing here? And why is he talking to me like nothing’s happened?

  “You look good. Do you want to grab a drink? Sevens is right around the corner.” He takes my arm and tries to pull me in the direction. Alcohol reeks from his breath. I shake my head and take a step back but his grip is too tight.

  “Trent, let go of my arm.”

  “Come on, one drink. Seriously, we need to talk.”

  I can’t help but laugh. “No thanks, I’m good.” Wasn’t my disgusting reaction to his kiss earlier enough to put him off? I try and pull my arm back again but it’s as if his grip has tightened. “Trent, let go of my arm.”

  Trent’s eyes are cold.
Like he is angry. He has no reason to be angry with me. I am the one who should be upset and I am about two seconds away from yelling.

  A large hand smacks his arm down—a hand I would recognize anywhere. Jack’s.

  “Hey, man, what’s your problem?” Trent steps towards Jack. Oh great. This is not going to go well. I take in a deep breath and hold it. My heart is beating fast. Do not have a panic attack in this moment. After recent events I know there’s a chance I’m going to have one. But not here. Not in this moment.

  “My problem is that you had your hand on my fiancée and I don’t take kindly to that.” Jack moves in closer to him. They are almost matched for height but Jack seems taller and stronger even against Trent’s large frame.

  “Hey lighten up, we were just going to grab a drink. You can come if you want.”

  Jack lets out a laugh and shakes his head. “No, you weren’t. That will never happen. Lauren isn’t interested in you. It’s obvious to everyone except you.”

  “Oh yeah? Well it wasn’t so obvious to me when she kissed me earlier today.”

  I gasp. I cannot believe Trent just said that.

  Jack just laughs. “Really? Is this the kiss that her body physically rejected?”

  Trent looks stunned. Obviously he didn’t expect me to tell Jack what happened.

  “Let me be clear, Trent, if I see or hear about your hands on her body at any point ever again, it will be the last time you are able to move them of your own accord.”

  Trent shakes his head. “We’ll see about that.”

  Jack glances down at the ground for a second before his arm swings back and delivers a hard clock across Trent’s jaw. Trent stumbles, wiping his face before swinging back at Jack.

  Jack blocks the hit and delivers a second blow to Trent’s stomach. He doubles over, coughing. A small crowd has gathered outside the restaurant.

  “You don’t want this to continue. It won’t end well for you, Trent. Trust me, those were my soft hits.”

  Trent stays in his curled position and Jack grabs my hand, leading me to the car.

  He slides in next to me. “Are you okay?”

  I raise an eyebrow. “I’m fine. How are your hands?”

  Jack lets out a laugh. “Lauren, my hands are fine. He put his hands on you. I couldn’t stand there and let him get away with it. Those were easy shots. If he comes near you again or even shows the smallest ounce of unprofessional conduct, I want you to let me know.” His eyes are inspecting me like he wants to know he can trust me with this request.

  “I know…I thought it was over with him. After he kissed me, I printed out the sexual harassment forms but I haven’t turned anything in yet. I don’t know why but in my head, I always felt like he would stop, that it wouldn’t continue.”

  “It won’t. That asshole got what’s coming to him.”

  “Jack, you probably shouldn’t have done that. You have to be careful.”

  “You aren’t serious, are you? I’m not a caveman but I will not stand back and have another man kiss my fiancée and then grab her in a parking lot. NO. This is over. He will know it and he will never think of you again. The end. And I don’t want to discuss this any further.”

  I’m afraid. Afraid for what Jack is saying and what it could possibly mean. I have done nothing to encourage Trent and yet he has been relentless. Maybe Jack is right. Maybe I need to let him handle this. Maybe when you join with another person you take on certain roles and maybe Jack should deal with this role, of taking on Trent and getting rid of any thoughts and advances.

  “I should have said something to Human Resources a long time ago.” I shake my head and my shoulders slump.

  “Well, you could always speak up now.”

  But could I? Now things have changed. So much time has passed and he is a manager now. Will it seem legitimate if I speak up now? I think I might have missed my “speak now or forever hold your peace” moment.

  Chapter Nine

  Technology is wonderful on so many levels. But the idea of video chatting with Brianna, Megan, my mom, Grandmother, and my sister-in-law Aurora? I’m just not sure about that. Megan set up a Google Hangout for us and the scheduled time has arrived. Jack said he would give me some privacy for the meeting and has left. Though, I wish he were here so he could interrupt me if needed.

  I click on the Google Hangout and immediately the image of Megan is on my screen. She’s writing something down in her notebook. The woman is for sure organized. Her little blue and pink tabs line the pages—no doubt they are in regards to Jack and me.

  “Hey, Megan, whatcha doing there?” I try to peer closer at what she is writing. She closes her notebook.

  “Nothing, where is everyone else?”

  “It’s only 3:00 p.m. You know how people like to show up when they can. I still can’t believe Mom is going to be on here with Grandmother.”

  “Oh hello, dear, were you speaking about me?” My grandmother’s face pops up on my screen in the lower corner. Her eyebrows are raised and her chin is lifted as if she is trying to figure out how she looks on screen. This is so odd.

  “Party time, first round’s on me!” Brianna’s face, along with a glass of wine, appears before me. Wow, this is really happening. My phone lights up and I glance at the message. It’s Aurora.

  I’m sorry to miss it but the babies are a real handful today. Go on without me. I’m sure Megan will send me a transcript or something.

  “Hey, everyone, Aurora has her hands full so she said to go on without her.”

  Megan brushes her hair off her shoulder and into a clip. “All right, then let’s get started. To begin: Lauren, have you figured out your wedding colors and location?”

  “Yes, our wedding colors are red and gold, kind of like a fiery look to go with the autumn season. Think Braeburn apples.” My cheeks heat thinking about Jack and apples.

  “What’s that, dear? Did you say orange for wedding color? That’s not a good color for your skin.” My grandmother’s face gets really close to the screen like she is trying to see us closer. I knew this technology thing was going to be a bit off.

  “No, she said fiery colors like red and gold—right, Lauren?” Brianna raises her glass to the camera. I should have poured a glass too.

  “Right, got the colors. And what about favors?” Megan taps on her notebook.

  “Um, we never discussed favors. Do we really need them?”

  “Lauren Sandra Hauser, I raised you better than that. You have to have favors—that is tradition and proper etiquette.” My mom pats my grandmother’s shoulder like she is trying to console her from being upset by my horrible suggestion. Are favors really necessary though?

  “How about mini sculptures of Jack and Lauren surrounded by pecans?” Brianna lets out a little giggle. But my mom is taking notes. Which is not good. My mom will take Brianna’s sculpture and raise it with a water fountain and firework display.

  “I think we would prefer something that the guests can use, like soap or matches.” I shrug.

  “Matches? Do you know anyone who smokes, dear?” My grandmother’s eye is the only thing in her little box on my screen.

  “I don’t think so but they’re nice to have, right?”

  “Oh no, that’s not a good idea. That gives the wrong impression. You want something classy like glasses with your names and wedding date etched on them.”

  I cringe a bit and motion one finger to the screen to say I’ll be a minute. Wine cannot wait. I make my way to the kitchen and pop some Pinot as quick as I can. I don’t want an etched glass with our names. Who uses those anyways? That seems like a waste of glass and money.

  “And then out of the satchel can be a bag of pecans and the outside can be a burlap case with an apple on the front.” Megan is writing two times faster than the words are coming out of her mouth.

  “I’m not sure what you just said but I like the sound of it.”

  “Perfect, that settles it. Next action item: flowers.”

  �
��Dear, you’ve got to go with corals, reds, and yellows and the entire theme can be your apples.” My mom is scribbling really fast too. I’m curious as to what is going down on her paper that is not being verbalized.

  “Okay, and what about location? Where are you thinking?” Megan is staring at me with her blue eyes inspecting my every move.

  “We were thinking Texas to avoid major travel for everyone. Maybe at Tibor’s Pecan Farm, the place we met? I dropped them an email; I’m waiting to hear back.”

  “Great, Texas. Okay, we need the location figured out by the end of the week.” Megan taps on her paper.

  I give her a salute with my hand at the same time as Brianna. We can’t help but break out in laughter. Thankfully Megan was too busy taking notes to take in our little joke.

  “What about the cake? Do you know where you’re getting that?” My mom is making weighing motions with her hands.

  “Jack and I are going to make it.”

  Gasps fill my room. Good grief, people, I didn’t just say I was going to wear a clown costume instead of a wedding dress, though I could see my mom being somewhat excited about it.

  “Lauren.” Megan is shaking her head.

  “Listen, we’ve already decided so please don’t anyone say anything about doubts. If the cake doesn’t taste great then I apologize ahead of time. Okay?”

  “Now, dear, you know if you make the cake it will be delicious, especially if you make it with Jack, given he is a pie prize winner.” My grandmother brushes some hair behind her ear.

  “I am too…” I mutter. Why doesn’t anyone take second place into consideration when discussing winners? I get I didn’t win the whole thing but I did get a ribbon. That should count for something.

  “Now are you doing a dinner, dear?” My grandmother is peering in close to the camera again.

  “Yes, it will be catered though.”

  “Okay that’s a wrap for today. Let’s reconvene at the end of the week. I’ll send out tasks for everyone.” Megan clears her throat and everyone says their goodbyes. I guess it is better to have a talk vs. a bunch of emails and things like that.