by Vreni Fox
“That’s him!” I rushed to answer like a little girl. I was driving because I still had to deliver the wedding cake, but he agreed to meet at my place beforehand so that he could help me to load it into the van.
“Wow, Hildi,” Horst offered me a small corsage of pink and orange roses, “you look incredible!”
“Thanks, Horst,” I blushed. “You look great too. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a suit.”
We got busy loading the Mayor’s towering cake into the van. Now that both Mandy Unterwegs and Sabine Natter were out of the picture, the Mayor and her soon to be new husband had compromised and decided to just host a regular wedding.
The cake was three towers of strawberries and cream, one of my favorite classics. We carefully loaded each of the towers separately into the cooled compartment of my van and set off to the Hotel to turn it over to their staff before the festivities began.
Things were already bustling at the Drachenfels Hotel and Spa. Eno Saputra was barking orders in the kitchen, running his staff around like he was hosting an event for the Queen of England and not our village Mayor.
“Eno,” I greeted him. “I’ve got our cake here. How’s everything looking?”
“Like normal food, thank God,” Eno replied. “I was able to restore Natter’s original menu at the last minute only because she’d already sourced all of the ingredients. So no sheep’s head tonight. I’ve just got to keep everyone moving if we want to have food on the table in time.”
“I’m sure that every single person attending this event will appreciate your efforts,” I nodded, recalling the avant garde horror we all came so close to getting. “It smells delicious.”
I eyeballed the fresh cheeses, fish, and meats circulating around the kitchen and my stomach growled. I let Saputra get back to work. Since the cake was delivered, my job for the evening was done and I was free to enjoy myself as a guest for the rest of the night.
The actual wedding ceremony was gloriously short and sweet. I guess after four marriages the Mayor did not feel like she needed to hear yet another speech about commitment and lifelong partnerships.
“Congratulations,” I shook the Mayor’s hand in the receiving line after the ceremony. “That was a beautiful ceremony.” I meant ‘thank you for keeping it short so that we could immediately proceed to dinner and drinks’ and I think the Mayor got my gist.
“Thank you Brunhilde, and thank you for coming. I’m so glad that you were able to make it after all of your recent… troubles. I saw the cake. I’m impressed. You’ve really pulled this off in a spectacular fashion. Good for you.”
That was as close as the Mayor came to ever praising anyone, so I was happy.
“Hey, was it just me or did the Mayor look ten years younger?” Horst asked me quietly as we made our way to our table.
I glanced over my shoulder. There she was, in a mermaid cut gown, with her long, shiny black hair glowing under the chandelier’s soft light.
“Her skin is like porcelain,” I agreed.
“How old is she anyway?”
“You know, I don’t really know. She’s been the Mayor for as long as I can remember.”
We sat at our table and I tried to get a closer look. Horst was right. The Mayor did look like she was approximately college age. There was no way that was natural. Too bad I didn’t know her well enough to ask about her beauty secrets.
“She must just have a really good moisturizer,” I added, wishing that I could get my hands on that ‘moisturizer.’
“Hey, you’re not going to believe this,” Horst glanced over my shoulder, “but look over there. By the bar.”
I turned all the way around to see what he was pointing at.
“Oh my gosh, are you serious?” I asked, not able to conceal my surprise. Over in the corner I spotted none other than Moritz Mahler, snapping photos with a huge camera.
He must have seen me staring because he made his way over to our table to greet us.
“Moritz,” I gave a thin smile and acknowledged him.
“Hey,” he replied, “I just wanted to thank you. I’m actually on my first job now. This is my new career.”
“As a wedding photographer?”
“Yeah. I don’t want to work in social media anymore. So now I’m trying to transition to weddings and portraits until I get my fine art career off the ground. The Mayor is my first legit customer.”
“Well, that’s great Moritz.” I had to admit, he did take beautiful photographs. I just had to make extra sure that I didn’t have any wardrobe malfunctions lest I end up half naked on someone’s sketchy website.
“Thanks. Mind if I get a photo of you and your boyfriend?”
“Oh, he’s not my--- nevermind. No, I don’t mind. Go right ahead.”
I slid up close to Horst and gave my brightest smile as Moritz got his shot. I hoped that I’d get to see it later and I made a mental note to ask the Mayor.
“Hey, you want to dance?” Horst got up and extended his hand.
“Oh, I’m not much of a dancer,” I demurred. Actually I was a terrible dancer.
“Oh come on. I’m not taking no for an answer. We’re at a wedding. We’re here to have fun.”
“Well, since you put it that way…”
Horst grabbed my hand and swirled me onto the dance floor. As the band played, we twirled around and around, through my neighbors and the people I had known all my life. I saw Cora the perfumer laughing in the leatherworker’s arms, I saw the Mayor gazing into the eyes of her new possibly demon husband, I even saw Ingrid downing a glass of sparkling champagne.
These people were my chosen family, the people who I cared about and loved. These were the people who loved me back. I would do anything to protect them and what we had together in Drachenfels.
And to a degree, I understood that Sabine Natter had felt the same way. She had truly believed, in her heart, that she was protecting our way of life in Drachenfels. She had a very different perspective from me regarding what ‘our way of life in Drachenfels’ entailed, but she wanted to protect what she loved nonetheless.
“That’s some dress you’ve got there, girl.”
I whirled around to face my uncle Conrad, uncharacteristically dressed in clean, hole free pants and a button up shirt.
“I didn’t even know that you owned a shirt with full sleeves,” I joked back. “Where’s your date?”
“My date?” Conrad acted shocked. “Since when have I ever shown up anywhere with a date? Cramps my style.”
“But what about Mitzi,” I smiled to myself, fully aware that the Cubeb berries had probably long ago worn off. “I thought you guys were soul mates.”
“Oh Mitzi,” Conrad scoffed. “We’re just very friends. She’s around here, somewhere. I gave her a ride so she doesn’t have to drive home alone.”
Horst laughed as he guided me back to our table. “Your old uncle’s a confirmed bachelor,” he joked, “can’t tie down a rolling stone like that. But can I propose a toast?” he suggested, offering me a slender flute of champagne.
“Here’s to friends,” he clinked his glass against mine and gave me a wink. “And here’s to more than friends.”
Afterword
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About the Author
Vreni lives in Bayern with her husband and kids. She likes walking her dogs in the forest and trying out new recipes.
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