Let Them Eat Cake

by Sandra Byrd

  “So you think he’s cute, huh?” Her eyes twinkled at me.

  Ouch! She’d caught me.

  “No, it’s not him,” she said. “It’s some guy named Steve.”

  The only Steve I knew was attached to Tanya. I ignored Patricia and Luc and quickly walked to the café, convinced something was wrong.

  La vérité se cache au fond d’un puits.

  Truth hides at the bottom of a well.

  Steve waited at the table closest to the door. As soon as I approached, he stood up to shake my hand and introduce himself. He looked exactly how I thought he’d look—blond hair, which I noticed was thinning a bit, and the build of someone who plays volleyball a few times a week. Cute, but not in a call-attention-to-me way. Pants pressed on the crease. So Tanya.

  “Tanya told me you worked here… I hope it’s okay to drop in.”

  “No problem,” I said, knowing that there must be a problem or I wouldn’t be meeting him for the first time without Tanya.

  “I’ve been making sales calls, and I was in the area,” he explained awkwardly.

  “Can I get you something? a coffee?”

  “No, no. Look, Lexi, I’m concerned about Tanya.”

  My heart beat faster. “Why?”

  “Well, we were getting along really well, enjoying ourselves, and then all of a sudden, well, the trail went cold. Maybe she’s just not interested in me anymore, and if that’s the case, then I won’t like it, but I’ll deal.” He rubbed his chin and pushed his hair back. He had shallow circles under his eyes.

  “I just don’t feel like that’s it,” he continued. “I think I’ve offended her somehow, but I don’t know how. I tried talking, but while she insists nothing is wrong, I feel that nothing is right. And now we aren’t talking at all. Which is why I’m here. I hope I’m not being pushy.”

  Oh, Tanya. Don’t crawl back into that shell, I thought. It’s not protective anymore. It’s isolating.

  “I—I think I might know what’s going on,” I said. “I hope you’ll give it some time and patience. I’ll talk with her and encourage her to talk to you.”

  “Okay,” he said, “but at some point, it’s only gentlemanly for me to pull away from her if that’s what she wants.”

  I nodded. He was right.

  Tanya would be at our house for Easter. I’d talk with her then. There was no better time than Easter for a new beginning, and she needed one before Steve withdrew, too.

  We always got up early on Easter morning, even if it was too cloudy in Seattle to see the sunrise, and it usually was.

  “Sleeveless dress, eh?” My mom tweaked the flesh on my upper arm.

  I flexed my bicep. “I’m not doing all those elliptical workouts for nothing.”

  “You look very pretty,” Mom said. “I’m sure everyone will notice.”

  “You look pretty too,” I said. She’d recently tossed out most of her stretch pants and had started wearing regular slacks and even some skirts.

  “I don’t want to look like a haystack compared to Leah’s mother,” she replied.

  Ah. Now I understood the recent wardrobe makeover.

  A barrel of family fun lay ahead of us that day. Leah’s mom was coming for dinner, along with Nonna—and her date!—and Uncle Bennie, the human resources guru. Please don’t let him bring up the failed job in Bellingham, I silently begged.

  Tanya planned to come for a little while. I don’t think she’d talked with Steve since I’d met him at the café the week before, and she’d been so “busy” that I hadn’t been able to pin her down to talk.

  “Are we going? Or are we going to celebrate Easter at Christmas?” my dad bellowed from the garage.

  Mom beamed. For the first time in a long while, my dad was coming to church. I’d asked him last night, telling him it was my last Easter at home and I wanted him to come. But I really asked him for Mom, and he knew it.

  We drove to church, and I think even Dad was impressed by how many people stopped to talk with Mom. He rarely went with her, so I don’t think he realized how connected and cared about she was. It felt cozy to be between them in church. This is what other families must feel like all the time.

  I want my kids to feel like this, I thought. Kids? Oh, no no no. First they have to squawk. No thanks. But celebrating the Resurrection felt more real and less rote to me than it had in a long time.

  After the service, the three of us drove home. Nonna had already commandeered the kitchen. I pinched a piece of cooling Easter egg sweet bread, and Nonna tapped my behind with her hand.

  “That wasn’t ready yet!” She tugged me into the family room. “I’d like to you to meet Stanley Jones. Stanley, this is my favorite granddaughter.”

  “Oh yes, Mr. Jones,” I said, smiling. “I remember hearing about you. You subscribe to National Geographic, don’t you?”

  Stanley stood up to shake my hand. “Why, yes. I do. How did you know?”

  Nonna gave me the evil eye. “Stanley is enjoying a little relaxation. Why don’t you go and mix a Bellini for him, and we’ll show him some hospitality?”

  I laughed to myself all the way to the kitchen. Easter was the one holiday we did all Italian in honor of Nonna. I always thought it was weird to eat lamb on Easter. Lamb of God and all that. I wondered if my mother had always wanted Italian on Easter, or if Nonna had ever asked her.

  Leah was trimming asparagus for an antipasti platter, but her hands were a little unsteady.

  “Okay?” I asked.

  She nodded. “My mom is bringing her new boyfriend. I’m hoping they don’t decide to get married the same month as Nate and I. I’m afraid she’s going to make a big announcement.”

  I bet she also hoped her mother didn’t wear something that left nothing to the imagination, but she was too kind to say it.

  After giving Mr. Jones his Bellini, I walked into the dining room where my mom was putting the final touches on the table.

  She smiled. “What do you think of Nonna’s date?”

  “He smiles and nods at everything Nonna says.”

  She whispered, “He turned down his hearing aid.”

  The doorbell rang, and Mom peeked out the window. “It’s Tanya. Want to get it? I don’t really need your help. Since you made dessert, that is!” she quickly added.

  I opened the door. “Hey, girl,” I said, hugging Tanya. I scanned the driveway and the street. “I don’t see your car.”

  Tanya pointed at the sea foam blue VW Beetle convertible sitting in the driveway.

  “Is that yours?” I screamed.

  Tanya nodded and smiled, dimpling up. “It was time, and the teaching contract is good. I think I’m going to sign with them again rather than go to the Christian school.”

  “Oh, I am so jealous,” I said. “Does it smell like a new car?”

  She jingled the keys in my face. “Want to find out?”

  “Well, lets go sit in it!” I said, excited.

  I pulled the front door shut behind me and raced down the driveway.

  Tanya opened the driver’s door and waved me in. “I’m always going to be in this seat. You sit here and see what you think.”

  What did I think? It had a six-CD changer and an MP3 hookup. It had blinkers in the side mirrors. It was perfectly new. Unlike a car I knew and loved, the backseat was not quilted with duct tape or sporting permanently pebbled carpet.

  “Let’s go for a ride,” I said. “We can drive down along the beach at Alki. That’ll be quick and fun.”

  We switched positions, and Tanya took off down the hill. While I had her trapped, I asked, “So, what does Steve think of the new car?”

  She sighed. “Gee. You’ve given me five minutes. Thanks.”

  “If I don’t push you, who will?”

  “Who says I need to be pushed?”

  “Look how nice it is,” I said. “Let’s walk the beach for a few minutes.”

  She parked the car, and we took our shoes off and walked on the cool sand.

  �
�Have you talked with him?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “He came into the café and asked if I knew why you might be pulling away. I told him he needed to talk with you, but that involves you actually talking.”

  “I know,” she said. “It’s just what you and I talked about in high school. Why get serious with a guy if you can’t marry him?”

  “Hello! That’s because we were young. You’re old enough to get married now. We’re a year older than Leah, and she’s getting married in two and a half months.”

  She kicked the sand. “Christian guys want virgins.”

  “You are a virgin,” I said quietly. “You are perfectly clean. You are pure.”

  “No, I’m not.” Tears slipped down her face. Tanya did everything quietly. Even grieving. Tears slipped down my face too.

  I pulled her down to sit next to me on a retaining wall. “Tanya,” I said softly. “You were date raped; that is not engaging in consensual sex. You were a victim.”

  “I don’t want to engage in consensual sex with anyone, which is what has to happen if I marry someone, which is often the natural outcome of dating,” she said in a flat tone. She wiped the tears away with the back of her hand.

  “Has Steve asked you to marry him?” I asked, forcing her to face where things really were rather than where they might go.

  Tanya lightened a bit and smiled. “No, but he wanted me to visit his family over Easter.”

  “Ah. More serious. And that’s what triggered this?”

  She nodded.

  “Not all Christian girls are virgins. We knew plenty in college who made mistakes, and they moved on to good marriages. Even so, your situation is totally different. You don’t even know if Steve is a virgin, do you?” She shook her head.

  “But this isn’t about being a virgin, is it?” I asked quietly, knowing the answer already.

  She shook her head again. “Why did this have to happen to me? I did all the right things, and then this.”

  “Do you feel like you need more counseling? It’d be okay.”

  “No,” she said. “I’m mostly okay. I haven’t had to face this part of it though, really. The wanting trickling back and the not-wanting still there.”

  “I’d hate for that jerk to ruin the rest of your life. Wouldn’t you?”

  I saw anger in her face. Good.

  “How about this,” I said. “You at least give Steve a chance— tell him what happened. Not all the details, but enough. See how he responds. If he responds poorly, we’ll know he’s not the one.”

  “I told Jared, remember?” Jared was the guy she got kind of serious with about a year after the rape. “And he backed way, way off.”

  “Ugh, Jared.” I made a face. “He had skinny little earthworm lips. Would anyone want to cozy up to him?”

  Tanya giggled. “Now that you say it, he did have earthworms for lips.”

  “Just give Steve one chance. Deal?” I asked.

  “Deal,” she said.

  I wouldn’t ask about Steve again. I knew she’d tell me soon enough.

  We got back just as Uncle Bennie pulled up. “Alexandra!” he said. “I’ve been looking forward to talking with you!”

  Nonna opened the door and pulled the still-smiling Stanley outside to meet her only son. “Bennie!”

  “A little later?” I told him, hoping that “later” never arrived. I let the current of people carry me inside and away from Bennie.

  Tanya’s mom and dad had already arrived, as had Leah’s mom, alone and with red eyes. I brought her a loaf of Easter bread wrapped to go.

  “For home,” I whispered. Life wasn’t easy for anyone.

  At dinner, the conversation turned, naturally, to the wedding in just a couple of months.

  “I always wanted my daughter to marry a lawyer,” Leah’s mom said.

  “I always wanted my son to marry a lawyer,” my mom joked back, holding her own.

  “I insist on hosting the wedding shower,” I said, seeing my chance to wrest one thing away from Leah’s mom. “I won’t take no for an answer, since Leah’s the only sister I’ll ever have.”

  Leah shot me a grateful look. I may not be able to do much, but at least there’d be two opinions.

  “Maybe you’ll marry a man who has a sister,” Tanya offered.

  “First she has to find a man,” Nonna said sweetly. I pretended to shoot her an angry glance. I knew she was paying me back for the National Geographic comment.

  After dinner, my mother served dessert on the patio. At the last minute, I’d decided to make a coconut cake—layers of decadent white cake perfumed with coconut milk. Buttery vanilla frosting separated each layer, and toasted nuts and coconut draped across the top. I loved it. Apparently others liked it too, because it earned more raves than the rest of the meal.

  “This is delicious!” Uncle Bennie said. “Peggy, you’ve outdone yourself. This is even better than the tiramisu you’ve been making for years. You should have changed long ago.”

  My mother slumped but forced a smile. “Alexandra made dessert today, so she’ll have to take the credit.”

  “Everything I know about cooking I learned from my mom!” I said cheerfully.

  Dad cleared his throat. Stanley smiled.

  I was confused. I knew my mother wasn’t happy my cake had been a success. Wasn’t it okay for both of us to be good?

  I followed her into the kitchen to help clean up. “I like the traditional tiramisu too, Mom.”

  “I know you do,” she said stiffly. “And I liked your coconut cake.” Then she turned her back to me.

  I moved a few things from the sink closer to her. A brochure lay on the counter.

  “Whose is this?” I asked.

  “Mine,” Mom said, brightening a little. “Teresa and I are thinking about going. She’s offered to pick up most of the expense using the commission she made in the sale. We won’t see each other as much after your father and I move. Of course, Dad wouldn’t go. He’s been once and doesn’t like traveling. I’ve never traveled on my own. There’s my asthma to worry about, and I’m not sure if it would be that much fun…”

  She looked at me, wanting my encouragement.

  “Sounds fun to me,” I said, a little woodenly. My desire for her to be happy wrestled with the unwanted entitlement inside that felt it should be my turn, since she’d already been to Europe once.

  We both had envy and insecurity issues. I saw that now.

  “You think?” she asked, perking up.

  “I know you’ll have fun!” I answered extra cheerfully, wishing I felt as enthusiastic as I sounded.

  She smiled and relaxed a little, I thought, from the cake issue. She was looking for her place in the world again, just like I was.

  In the other room, I could hear people preparing to go home, and I went to say good-bye. Nonna hadn’t left Uncle Bennies side the whole afternoon, for which I was extremely grateful. She had no idea how much she was helping me.

  “You just let your old uncle know if you need my help,” he said to me on the way out. “They don’t call me Chief Headhunter for nothing!” He slipped a piece of paper into my hand and guffawed at his own joke.

  “I’ll let you know,” I said, hoping to rush past this conversation. “I’m pretty happy where I am.”

  “You haven’t been fired yet, so that’s something,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

  He knew I’d been let go in Bellingham! But did my parents? They’d freak if they knew I’d been fired from two jobs.

  “I need to say goodbye to Tanya’s parents,” I said and left the room as quickly as I could.

  Once everyone had left, I opened the paper he’d slipped me. It was an industry column on finding and keeping a job.

  First Nate, now Uncle Bennie. Was the world trying to tell me something?

  Monday I drove past the new apartment complex—hopefully my apartment complex. I’d left an application, but the manager wasn’t taking deposits yet.r />
  At L’Esperance, Patricia now at least spoke French to me in her tobacco-hewn voice. I still washed her dishes and did her errands and repetitive prep work. She did all the supply ordering.

  She let me arrange everything in the cases up front, though, which was enough to keep me happy. First I slid in little strawberry tarts—fresh for the new spring season, tucked under coin-sized kiwi slices. Next, chocolate mousses, whipped into light peaks and dusted with bittersweet cocoa. Last, creamy crèmes brûlées in white ramekins that looked like upside-down chef’s hats. I loved biting through the brittle caramelized layer on top, thin as ice on an October pond.

  After I helped Patricia, I made sure Sophie had everything stocked for the next day. On my break, I munched a crispy madeleine cookie—spongy on the inside, crisp on the outside, and perfumed with lavender honey and lemon. I offered one to Sophie.

  “Can’t have it,” she reminded me. “Butter. Eggs.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” I said. “Sometimes I forget. What are those?” I nodded at the heavy set of keys in her hand.

  “They’re Luc’s. Since Patricia is gone tonight, I’m closing up.”

  I’d never seen him give the keys to anyone before. Suddenly the half-eaten cookie in my hand didn’t look so appetizing.

  “Oh, okay,” I said. “Cool.” Not cool

  The next day my mom came in to have lunch with me.

  “Eh bien, it’s Margaret la Magnifique,” Luc said, sweeping over to my mother and kissing her hand. Irritation prickled up my spine. He was flirting with someone as old as his maman.

  My mother giggled and blushed.

  “Ready?” I asked, taking off my apron.

  We strolled down the street, the day sunny and beautiful.

  “See that building?” I pointed out the apartments being developed. “I’m hoping to get an apartment there. They’re taking deposits in a few weeks, and I should be able to move in just before the wedding, when you guys are getting packed up.”

  “Oh, Lexi, it’s beautiful,” Mom said. “Is it affordable?”

  “I hope so,” I said. “I don’t know the exact price, but I asked for a studio. I’ve saved almost everything I’ve made since I moved back in with you guys.”