The Icing on the Cake

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The Icing on the Cake Page 24

by Janice Thompson

We all laughed.

  I noticed Bella looking at me. The others kicked off a lively conversation about the missions trip, and she gestured for me to join her in the kitchen. I followed along on her heels, wondering what was up. Something big, if one could judge from the serious expression on her face.

  When we arrived in the messy kitchen, she leaned against the counter, and her eyes flooded. “Thanks for giving me some time alone,” she said.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked.

  “More than okay.” She paused, her eyes still brimming. “Scarlet, I just want to thank you.”

  “Thank me? For what?”

  “For caring about my brother.”

  “Ohhh.” I grinned. “Well, that’s easy.”

  “It hasn’t always been,” she said. “But lately I see such changes. Mama says that watching the transformation in Armando over the past few weeks has been a lot like watching the tide come in. It’s all happening so gradually that you don’t even realize it. One minute you’re standing there looking out at the water, and the waves are way out there so far they’re nowhere near your toes. The next minute you look down and the water’s up to your ankles.”

  I loved the water analogy but kept quiet, sensing that she had more on her mind.

  “That’s how it is with Armando,” she said. “I mean, we’ve waited for years to see the Lord work these kinds of changes in him. I guess maybe I’d given up hope that he was ever going to be any different.” A tear trickled down her cheek.

  “I didn’t know him before,” I admitted, “so I only see the awesome, godly man he is now.” At this proclamation, I felt the sting of tears in my eyes.

  “Who he was before . . .” She shrugged and reached for a rag, then began to wipe down the counter. I joined her, and we worked together. “Who he was before was a lost young man. He was raised in church, sure, but I guess he was just bored with it all. He got off into . . . other things.”

  “I think I know a little about that,” I said. “We’ve talked some. But it’s all turning around now.”

  “I’d say.” Bella grinned. “And my parents aren’t the only ones who are thrilled. I couldn’t be happier for him . . . and for you.” She dropped the rag and wrapped me in a sisterly embrace. “I’m just so grateful.”

  “Hey, don’t look at me,” I teased. “I’m not the one who brought about these changes. God is.”

  “He used you, silly.”

  “Maybe a little. But I don’t want you to worry about Armando ever going back to the way he was before. He’s got so much to offer.”

  “He’s always had a lot to offer.” She sighed. “You know, I love my family, but they never really gave Armando much of a chance as a kid. They were so busy running the restaurant and then the wedding facility. He kept acting up and getting in trouble and stuff. Honestly, I think he was crying out for attention.”

  “He was.” My hand flew to my mouth, and Bella looked my way, her eyes growing large.

  “You’ve talked to him about all of this?”

  “He . . . well, he talked to me. Told me a little about growing up in such a big family.”

  “It was rough.” She sighed. “I love my parents. And my relatives. But when you’re surrounded by a mob—and I use the term loosely here—the chances of getting individual attention aren’t great. I’ve told you the story about the day my dad decided to hand over the wedding facility to me to manage?”

  “No.”

  “Horrible. I didn’t think I could do it. And I totally blew it a thousand times before the business took off.”

  “What made the difference?”

  A smile lit her face. “D.J.”

  “D.J. saved your business?”

  “Well, not exactly. But falling in love with someone who supported me really helped. And he helped me out at a very critical moment, which just convinced me that he cared even more than I knew.”

  I pondered Bella’s words as she continued to share her heart. For whatever reason, the conversation put me in mind of Aunt Willy. How many times had I told myself she would never change? In so many ways, she and Armando were as different as night and day. And yet they had both been prodigals who’d wandered away and done their own thing.

  “It’s just so good to see my brother back home again,” Bella whispered. “I wasn’t sure he would ever be content being back on the island for good. But that’s changed. Now he’s happy working at Parma John’s.” She looked my way and smiled. “And we have you to thank for that too.”

  I heard a little sniffle from the doorway and glanced that way. Bella’s mother stood there, eyes filled with tears. She walked toward me and wrapped me in her arms. “I’m not sure how to thank you,” she said.

  “No thanks necessary,” I responded. “He’s a great guy.”

  “Who’s a great guy?” Armando’s voice rang out from the doorway. “What’s going on in here? Why wasn’t I invited to the party?”

  “Oh, trust me, you’re the guest of honor.” I walked over and took his hand, then gave it a squeeze.

  “Really? Well, that’s great. Did you bake me a cake?” he asked.

  “Sure did. Italian cream cake with cream cheese frosting.”

  “Yum.” He licked his lips. “Do I get to blow out candles?”

  “Um, no. No candles. But you can have the first piece. Just follow me.” I led the way to the bakery, where the others appeared to be in a daze. Probably too much sugar. No doubt they would still indulge in a piece of Italian cream cake if I offered it. So I did.

  Twila, Jolene, and Bonnie Sue were the first in line. After Armando, of course. I noticed that Kenny lagged behind. He’d been really out of sorts lately. I didn’t blame him. We’d finally had that heart-to-heart, and he’d taken my news well, but things had been odd ever since. When everyone settled down to enjoy the cake, he began to pace the shop, obviously nervous. All the pacing was making me nervous too.

  “Kenny?” I offered him a piece of cake, but he refused to take it. “You okay?”

  He released a slow breath. “I, um, I need to tell you something.”

  “Should we . . .” I gestured to the kitchen. “Do we need to be alone?”

  He shook his head. “No, it’s probably better if I say this in front of everyone.”

  Oy.

  I swallowed hard and tried to imagine what he might say.

  “It’s about your aunt,” he said a moment later.

  Everyone in the room grew quiet at this point, especially my parents and the Splendora ladies.

  “W-what about her?” I asked.

  His face turned red. “Maybe you’d better sit down.”

  I did. “Tell me, Kenny.”

  He paced the room, then turned back to face all of us. “She got married.”

  “She . . . what?” my mother and I both squealed at the same time, and then the other ladies chimed in, especially Bonnie Sue, who looked as if she might be ill.

  For a minute there I felt sure I’d misunderstood, so I posed it as a question. “Did you say that Aunt Willy got . . . married?”

  He nodded. “She and Donny ran off together. Well, not really ran off. They’re in Splendora.”

  Bonnie Sue began to wail. Twila and Jolene did their best to comfort her, but the tears continued.

  I shook my head as I tried to envision my aunt in the piney woods of east Texas. Crazy.

  “She’s setting up a bakery in his gas station,” Kenny explained. “I think they’ve already started that process, actually.”

  “It’s not just a gas station,” I said. “It’s a full-service rest stop for families—”

  “With the cleanest restrooms in the state of Texas,” my parents chimed in.

  We all laughed.

  Well, all but Bonnie Sue, who now ranted about how her wedding at the new Club Wed facility would have to be postponed until a future date.

  I couldn’t picture Aunt Willy living in Splendora, clean restrooms or not.

  Obviously, neither coul
d Bonnie Sue, who glanced my way and muttered, “She stole my man.”

  Twila popped her on the head with one of my menus. “Bonnie Sue, Donny was never your man to begin with. And you certainly don’t want a fella who’s in love with someone else.”

  “True.” Bonnie Sue rubbed her head. “But I was sure he was the man for me.” Tears trickled down her plump cheeks, and she sighed.

  “God will bring the right man,” I said. “In his time.” Boy, if anyone knew that to be true, I did.

  Bonnie Sue did not look convinced. In fact, she looked downright angry.

  She wasn’t the only one who looked a little put out. My father rose and joined Kenny in pacing. “I just don’t know why my sister wouldn’t tell me this herself. No offense, Kenny, but why did she share such personal information with you instead of her own family? Doesn’t make a lick of sense.”

  “Well, that’s the next part that’s going to be hard to hear.” Kenny gazed into my eyes. “Willy wants me to take over her shop in Houston.”

  My heart suddenly felt as heavy as lead. “What? Are you serious?” I couldn’t imagine running Let Them Eat Cake without Kenny. We might not be a couple, but we were still a team. A baking team, anyway.

  “It’s the opportunity of a lifetime,” he said. “How could I turn her down?” He dove into what a great thing this would be, and I realized he was right. Someone as talented as Kenny deserved his shot at running his own place. I would miss him terribly, but I couldn’t hold him back.

  The others in attendance took turns congratulating him when he finished. My mother gave him a hug and told him he would be missed. So did my father. Armando shook his hand, and I heard an audible sigh from Kenny at that point. I managed to get him off to the side after the others went back to talking about Willy and Donny’s marriage.

  “I’m going to miss you, Kenny. I really am. You’re so great to work with.”

  “Scarlet, I love working with you. But . . . it’s hard. Being here, I mean.” He glanced across the room at Armando. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t fall in love with whoever you like. Just saying it will be easier to swallow from the north end of Houston. And besides . . .” He grinned. “Your aunt offered me a salary I couldn’t refuse.”

  Crazy. And all this time I’d thought Willy didn’t care for Kenny. Apparently it was just the facial hair, not the man himself.

  Suddenly I was filled with pride for him—kind of like a mama hen looking out for her chicks. Yes, I’d be up a creek without a paddle when Kenny left, but he was right—this was the opportunity of a lifetime for him, and I’d be crazy to stand in his way. If anyone deserved special recognition, he did. And I had no doubt he would be the best head baker Crème de la Crème had ever seen. Auntie was right to hire him.

  We finished our celebration about thirty minutes later, and Armando helped me close up shop. We ended the evening with the sweetest kiss ever, and I sent him on his way to help his family tend to Uncle Laz, who had remained at home by himself most of the evening.

  Before leaving the bakery, I decided to make a quick call to my aunt. She answered on the third ring. “H-hello?”

  “Aunt Willy, sorry to call so late. Were you sleeping?”

  She gave a tiny giggle. “Um . . . no.”

  “Is there something you want to tell me?”

  A lengthy pause followed on her end. “I’m assuming by now you’ve already heard?” The words were more statement of fact than question.

  “I have, actually. And . . . congratulations.”

  “Thank you. How did your father take the news?” she asked. “Does he think I’m off my rocker?”

  “No, he’s thrilled for you. Shocked, but thrilled.”

  “Good. I’m so relieved. And did Kenny tell you the rest?”

  “He did,” I said. “That part was a little shocking too, but I’m happy for him. He’s going to be a great asset to your business.”

  “Oh, I agree.” I heard her breathe a sigh of relief. “I’m just glad you’re not angry with me, Scarlet.”

  “Not at all. In fact, we all want to spend some time with you and Donny when you’ve got a day you can give us. We want to have a family day.”

  “Family day?” Aunt Willy sounded as if she couldn’t quite figure out what I meant by those words.

  “Yes, we want to go to Pleasure Pier for the day. Maybe invite the Rossis along.”

  “Oh, I’ve been wanting to go there anyway.” My aunt’s voice became more animated by the moment. “See, I had this idea—”

  “With all due respect, I’m not talking about a marketing day, Auntie,” I said. “I’m talking about a real family day, one where we ride rides and eat cotton candy and buy nonsensical gifts for others. A day where we spend too much money doing arcade games and spring for a fishing expedition off the end of the pier.”

  “F-fishing?” She paused. “I’ve never been fishing.”

  “Then it’s about time. And I have it on good authority your new husband loves to fish.”

  “So he says.” Her voice drifted away.

  “Well, I think you’re going to love it too. There’s nothing more relaxing.” I dove into a conversation about a fishing trip my father had taken me on as a child, but I could tell I was losing Auntie. Time to reel her in (pun intended).

  “Aunt Willy, the main thing is we need to spend time together doing something that’s not business related. No bakery talk.”

  “I don’t know if I can do that,” she admitted.

  “I might have a hard time stepping away from business chatter too,” I said, “but I’m willing to give it the old college try if you are. I think our family members would appreciate it.”

  No doubt they would. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d sat down with my mom and dad to talk about something other than cakes and cookies. They were probably weary of the whole bakery chatter.

  I knew that Willy wasn’t, of course. She would never tire of business life. We had that in common. And I loved that we shared a passion for cakes. But now we needed a passion for something more—each other. Our relationship was about to be sweeter than any cake or cookie.

  Not that she saw much value in a cookie, but whatever.

  Our relationship was going to be the proverbial icing on the cake, and though it was long overdue, I had a feeling the Lord would use it to reach out to others in our community. Yes, it would probably grow our businesses too, but I couldn’t think about that right now. All I wanted to do was focus on the woman on the other end of the line, the one who had poured life and soul into my business because she believed in me.

  After teaching her how to fish, of course.

  25

  Sweetened by Life

  C is for cookie. That’s good enough for me.

  Cookie Monster

  On the third Saturday in July, my family met up with the Rossis at Pleasure Pier, where we had the time of our lives riding rides and playing games at the arcade. I kept a watchful eye on Aunt Willy, who strolled the pier with her arm looped through Donny’s. I’d never seen her look happier.

  I couldn’t help but notice that married life had changed her not just emotionally but physically too. A rosy glow lit her cheeks—one that didn’t require excessive amounts of makeup—and her smile rivaled the sunshine streaming the midafternoon skies over the Gulf of Mexico.

  Aunt Willy came close and gave me a giant hug. She whispered, “I’m transformed” into my ear.

  I gave her a curious look. “Transformed?”

  She gave my hand a squeeze. “Oh, honey, I don’t know if you’ll ever understand, but I’ve lived my whole life putting business first. From the time I was twenty-three, when my mentor passed away so unexpectedly, I was the one in charge of the store.” Her eyes flooded with tears quite suddenly. “You have no idea how hard I’ve worked to prove myself.”

  Oh, I might have some idea.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Armando stand up a little straighter as he listened in on our conversa
tion.

  “I never really felt like I was as good as my brothers and sisters,” Auntie said. “Always wanted to prove myself to my mother.”

  “You . . . you did?”

  When she nodded, Armando came a little closer.

  “You have no idea how tough my mother was. Nothing I ever did was good enough. If I got a B+ on a test, she insisted it should’ve been an A. If I came in second place in the spelling bee, she asked me why I wasn’t first. I’m telling you, I think I started baking to prove something to her,” Aunt Willy said. “But she died before she could see my first bakery open. She never even lived to see me make a success of myself, so it’s all kind of bittersweet.”

  Armando stood in front of her. “But you kept trying to prove yourself, right? Even though she was gone, I mean.”

  A little sigh escaped Aunt Willy’s lips. “Yes, but it seems so silly now. So pointless. My mother—God bless her—never believed in me. She said I’d never amount to anything, but I refused to believe it. So by sheer will and determination, I set out to prove her wrong. I grew that bakery to a great success.”

  “You certainly did.” I offered her an encouraging smile.

  “It’s just so ironic,” Willy said. “The very person I needed to prove myself to wasn’t even there anymore to see how great I was doing.” She offered a little shrug. “Not that I could’ve fixed Mama, anyway. I know that now. She had her own set of problems, and I wasn’t meant to take care of them.”

  “It’s funny you should say that. I’ve always been in the fixing business too,” I said. “I honestly thought that fixing people was as easy as baking a cake. You add all the right ingredients and hopefully it turns out. But you can’t force change on a person. I know that now.”

  “I’m old, Scarlet.” Willy’s gaze shot out over the water, and her words drifted away on the afternoon breeze.

  Okay, I couldn’t argue that, but I didn’t know what to say in response.

  “When you’re old like I am, you don’t want to change. You get settled in your ways. And when you’ve lived the kind of life I have—all work and no play—you’re especially settled.” She released a sigh. “Sometimes I feel like I’ve waited my whole life for something special to happen to me.”

 

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