Always the Baker, Never the Bride

by Sandra D. Bricker

  “The thing is,” he said, cutting her inner dialogue right in two, “I love you.”

  Her eyes popped open wide, and her jaw dropped slightly, leaving her mouth open in a tiny round O.

  “Huh?”

  He smiled. “I love you. And I don’t want to make the mistake of not telling you, not showing you, because I think a woman like you needs—”

  Emma lifted her free hand and snapped it to his mouth, holding it there until Jackson fell silent.

  “And tomorrow morning when you wake up and remember that you’ve said this to me,” she began, pausing to catch her breath, “are you going to retreat into After Care for two weeks? Start avoiding me? Not call me?”

  “After Care?” he repeated through her fingers, and she dropped her hand and groaned.

  “It’s what men do,” she said. “Advance, retreat, advance, retreat. Are you gonna retreat again, Jackson?”

  “I am not.”

  She sighed, and her shoulders dropped considerably. “How do you know? How can you say that now?”

  “I just can.”

  “But later when you think it over—”

  “After I think it over, I’ll be inclined to freak out a little bit,” he acknowledged. “And then I’ll remember the glimmer in your eyes and the curve of your smile.” He paused to run a finger down the line of her jaw, and he grinned at her. “I’ll remember what your hair smells like when I hold you very close, and I’ll remind myself how God blessed me one rainy afternoon and gave me the sudden craving for something sweet, and I walked into that little bakery and found you.”

  She opened her mouth to object, but now it was Jackson’s turn to silence Emma, and he placed two fingers over her lips.

  “You had flour on your cheek,” he recalled. “And then later, when you came to The Tanglewood and tripped over the linens in the lobby, you had icing all over your nose and chin.”

  She chuckled, and Jackson caressed her cheek before drawing his hand away.

  “God blessed my life early on,” he told her. “Desiree was the best thing that had ever happened to me. When I lost her, I was quite certain I’d never find that again.”

  The rat-a-tat-tat in her ears turned out to be her own heartbeat, and Emma’s eyes misted over with a glaze of unexpected, prickly emotion.

  “Why God has chosen to bless me for a second time, only He knows for sure,” he went on. “But I’m not going to take it for granted. I’m not going to lose it by tripping over my own two feet. I love you, Emma Rae Travis. And what I need to know is … Do you love me too?”

  Emma jumped to her feet, propelled by sheer instinct. Her head spun a little as she paced behind the sofa for a lap or two and then made her way to the window and stood in front of it, staring out at the street.

  She blinked twice, pushing the tears standing in her eyes to cascading streams down the slope of her face. When she blinked a third time, she was able to bring Fee’s car into focus where it was still parked in front of Jackson’s. Fee was seated behind the wheel, very still, her head bowed, and Emma realized that her friend was out there … praying.

  A sudden burst of laughter popped out of her, and Emma spun around to find Jackson standing close behind her, his eyes bearing down on her with the embers of a very serious fire burning in them.

  “I feel woozy,” she told him on a raspy whisper, and Jackson blinked hard.

  “Oh. Do you need something to eat? Can I get your monitor for you?”

  “No,” she replied, and she lifted one shoulder into an awkward shrug.

  “What is it then?”

  Emma grinned at him timidly as she admitted, “I love you, too, Jackson.”

  You Are Cordially Invited To Attend a (Very Secret) Wedding at The Tanglewood Inn

  The Anonymous Bride & Groom would appreciate your attendance in the Desiree Ballroom at 9:00 p.m. on Friday Evening to witness a private ceremony in celebration of their Love, Commitment & Joy

  Formal Attire is Requested and your complete discretion is required.

  (Don’t you just love a good surprise?)

  27

  Emma looked down at the engraved invitation card that she’d found on her desk earlier that same day, and she read it through one more time.

  A secret wedding ceremony at The Tanglewood.

  She’d been speculating all afternoon, and again now she wondered who it could be. Pearl and Anton tripped across her mind first, but she dismissed the thought with a grin. Anton probably had a few dozen more sessions of After Care in him, after all. No, it wasn’t Anton and Pearl.

  Several times that day, she’d chuckled at the unlikely idea that she herself was the unsuspecting bride mentioned on the parchment card. She fantasized about how Jackson might have plotted out the event with the help of his sister Madeline; the two of them scheming about how they would get her there without betraying the plan.

  And then for the second time since finding the invitation propped up against her telephone, Emma realized there was already a very likely bride and groom on The Tanglewood’s radar.

  Of course it’s Fee and Peter. It can’t be anyone else.

  She recalled her friend’s excitement when she’d shared the news of their engagement. That had to be who it was, and how like Fee to take such a unique and intimate track to the altar.

  “Any more thoughts on our bride and groom?”

  She spun around to find Jackson standing behind her. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen him in a tuxedo, but he certainly took her breath away as if it were.

  “I think it’s Fee and Peter,” she whispered to him.

  “I suspect you’re right.”

  “It has to be,” she stated with confidence. Then she asked him, “Doesn’t it?”

  Jackson nodded. “Has to be.”

  He extended his arm to her, and Emma thought how natural it had become to walk with him that way, arm in arm. In the month or so since he’d declared his love for her, they’d slipped into the effortless groove of a couple. It seemed like such a long time ago when they were foreign to one another, still getting to know each other. She caressed his arm as they reached the foyer.

  Jackson tried the door to the smallest of the three ballrooms, but it was locked. With a shrug, he turned back toward Emma.

  “You look so beautiful,” he told her softly.

  Emma glanced down at the beaded top of her scarlet red dress. She ran her hands over the black chiffon skirt and straightened the thick velvet sash that tied at the waist in a soft, smooth bow.

  “I bought this dress two weeks ago with no idea where I would wear it,” she told him.

  “Fashion destiny,” he teased.

  Emma grinned at him. He was so handsome that it was almost painful. Jackson slipped his arm around her waist and drew her toward him, pecking her lips with a soft kiss.

  “I love you,” he murmured. “I love you too.”

  “Hey!” Fee called out, and Emma watched her cross toward them in a sleek black dress with a full-length red hooded cape tied loosely over it. She released her loose grip on Peter’s hand. “So what’s going on? Do you guys know what this shindig is all about?”

  “Oh, come on,” Emma said on a chuckle. “You can come clean. We know it’s you two.”

  Peter glanced at Fee, and the two of them laughed. “We thought it was you,” he said.

  Emma angled her head toward Jackson, and he shrugged. “I don’t know, then.”

  “Whoever it is, they have great taste in music,” said Pearl as she and Anton rounded the corner. “I just saw Ben Colson down in the lobby.”

  “Ben Colson,” Emma repeated. “Who in the world is getting married here tonight?”

  Norma and her husband Louis arrived at just that moment, and Norma rubbed her brother’s arm as she stepped up beside him. “I was kind of hoping it was you and Emma.”

  “Us?” Jackson scoffed. “Not likely.”

  Emma’s heart thumped a couple of fast beats, and she bit her lip. Do yo
u have to be so quick to balk at us as likely candidates for marriage?

  “I just meant that this wouldn’t be our style,” he said, instantly aware of her thoughts. His attention was diverted as Madeline and Georgiann rounded the corner, both of them so elegant in their long, beautiful dresses.

  “Maddie, did you arrange this event?” Jackson asked her. “Who are we here to see?”

  Madeline gave them catlike smile. “You’ll see, little bruthah. Just five more minutes, and all of your questions will be answered.”

  Madeline poked a key into the door and turned it. When she pulled it open and exposed the elaborate decorations of flowers and candles on the other side, the whole group of them gasped and sighed in unison.

  “How lovely!” Norma exclaimed.

  “Go on in and take your seats,” Madeline told them. “We’ll get started in just a few minutes.”

  Emma slid her hand into Jackson’s and they headed up the small aisle between two short rows of chairs draped in blue chiffon and tied at the back in large bows. Half a dozen candelabras flanked a short platform covered in dark blue velvet, and arrangements of light blue hydrangea and pink sweetheart roses were placed around it.

  Just as they settled into their chairs, Miguel entered from the side entrance, leading Emma’s aunt Sophie to a seat in the front row.

  “Aunt Sophie? What are you—”

  Sophie turned and waved at Emma, then wrinkled up her nose with eager excitement. And as realization pounced upon her, Emma gasped.

  “Oh, Jackson! I know who—”

  The opportunity was gone in an instant as Emma’s parents walked through the side door. Avery wore a full-length champagne dress with fitted top and long sleeves. The skirt was overlaid with light blue chiffon, the same color as the draping on the chairs, adorned with thin vines, hand-sewn with silver beads. The stem of her simple hydrangea bouquet was wrapped with a pale pink silk ribbon.

  When Avery’s eyes met hers, Emma burst into tears. She rose from her chair and immediately hurried to her mother and threw her arms around her.

  “Are you joking?” she sniffed, and then she caught her father’s eyes over the slope of her mother’s shoulder. “Are you serious?”

  “Your father and I want to renew our vows, Emma Rae. We know how late this comes, but we both want to begin again and make it work this time.”

  “I’ll do it right, Princess,” her father said in a soft vow. “I won’t let either one of you down.”

  Emma released her mother and moved on to embrace her father. “I love you, Daddy.”

  “We love you, too, Princess.”

  She didn’t know that Jackson had joined them at the front of the room until he braced her shoulder with a firm grasp. “Let’s sit with your aunt,” he suggested, and Sophie hugged Emma when she sat down beside her.

  “Thank you all for being with us tonight,” Miguel said once he completed the picture on the platform at the front. “It’s a very special night for two very unique and special people.”

  Jackson threaded his fingers through Emma’s, and she felt the electricity of it all the way up her arm. She reached over with her other hand and took Sophie’s. In a flash, she was reminded of the day they’d gone to the movies together, and Sophie had been singing the part of Henry Higgins in the guise of Gavin Travis.

  How things have changed! she thought, glancing up at Jackson with a quivering smile.

  And with all that change rolling down the river of her life, fueled by the current of answered prayer and a new community of family and friends, Emma took a moment to wonder … if only just in that one instant … whether there might be more of it ahead for her.

  I don’t always have to be the baker, she thought hopefully. Maybe next time, I’ll be the bride!

  “By the power vested in me, and with the blessing of God the Father, His son Jesus, and the Holy Spirit, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Still and again.”

  As her parents affirmed their love and commitment to one another right there at the front of the room, Emma Rae Travis decided that she would do whatever she had to do. She would take whatever medication necessary, prepare in whatever vigorous way might be required with a balance of protein and keeping some insulin handy.

  Whatever it took, on her big day, Emma Rae Travis was going to bake her cake … and eat it too!

  Discussion Questions

  What do you think of Emma’s career choice, considering that she is diabetic?

  Fee is a very unique individual, and her loyalty to Emma defines their relationship. What specific role does Fee play in Emma Rae’s life?

  What do you think forms the attraction between Jackson and Emma? Which of their characteristics complemented the other person? Which of those characteristics rocked their romantic boat?

  How did the death of Jackson’s wife affect his future relationships?

  Did you feel that Jackson compromised part of himself by pursuing his deceased wife’s dream? Or did you feel that he used her dream as an excuse to do something unexpected and different?

  How do you feel about the family dynamics in the book? From Jackson’s sisters to Emma’s parents and aunt, what do the various roles represent for Emma and Jackson?

  How did you feel about the relationship between Emma’s mother and father?

  There are so many peripheral characters in the book. Aside from family members, which characters do you think had the most impact on Emma and Jackson?

  It’s often said that food is the foundation for so many things in life, from family events to social networking. How do you see the role of food in the book?

  Did you enjoy the recipes and wedding tips in the book? What were your favorites?

  Before their identity was revealed, who did you suspect would be the bride and groom at the surprise wedding at the end of the book?

  Bonus Chapter from Sandra Bricker’s Next Novel Coming in September, 2011

  The Big 4-Oh!

  1

  “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away;

  behold, all things have become new.”

  —2 Corinthians 5:17

  Bitsy froze in her own pig tracks, her little corkscrew tail standing at attention as she perked her ears and waited.

  “I’m sure of it,” she whispered. “Wait just one more second.”

  Cornelius snorted out his impatience and collapsed into the mud for the day’s first good roll.

  “Shh, Cornie,” Bitsy urged him. “Quiet. You’ll see.”

  Another few seconds sloshed by to the rhythm of Cornelius’s squirmy endeavor.

  “There! See!”

  The clank of the bucket handle emerged from the distance, growing louder in its approach.

  “I told you!” Bitsy oinked. “Breakfast!”

  Her hooves slipped in the mud, but she wasn’t going to be stopped. Bitsy threw herself across the yard toward the fence, determined to beat the others to it this time.

  The human wore overalls and a silly straw hat that day, and he heaved the bucket over the fence and sent the morning’s slop flying over a wide parcel of ground. Bitsy trotted toward it in ecstasy, gliding across the slippery mud until she landed against the bottom rung of the fence with a thump. When she turned around, Cornelius grinned at her, a piece of yellowish peel hanging out of his mouth.

  “Have at it, oinkers,” the human called out. “Banana peels and leftover noodles from last night’s supper thrown into it today. Go ahead. Make pigs of yourselves!”

  Bitsy snorted out a quick thank you before trotting into the deepest part of the banquet.

  This has been just great. I’m so glad we could do it.”

  Vivian’s heart stopped at the words. She clamped her eyes shut for just a moment, suppressing the groan bubbling up inside of her.

  “Maybe we can make it a regular thing. I’ve got lots of recipes to try out on you all.”

  She pasted a smile on her face and nodded as the conflicting
vow resonated in her head.

  I’d rather lay down in traffic than do this again.

  What Trish had called coq au vin turned out to be nothing more than chicken stew with bacon grease frosting, and the espresso she’d served with that horrendous fruit tart had the consistency of a mud pie. Vivian had barely survived the meal, a fact which had nothing to do with the violent inner reaction to making it “a regular thing.”

  “Ready to go?” Caleb asked her, but the words hardly reached fruition before his eyes popped open in reaction to the pained expression on his wife’s face.

  “I can’t,” Vivian whispered.

  “I know. It was a little heavy. I’ll stop at the drugstore on the way home for some Maalox.”

  “No. Caleb. I can’t go”

  He shot a quick glance at the others, all of them on their feet, in various stages of thank yous and goodnights as they headed toward the front door.

  “Vivi, what is wrong with you? What do you mean you can’t go?”

  “I can’t,” she told him through tight lips. “I can’t get out of this chair.” “What—”

  “I’m stuck.” She rocked from side to side, taking the narrow chair right along with her. “I’m wedged into this thing, Caleb. I can’t get up.”

  His effort to hold back his laughter only made it worse as a sort of screech escaped through his nose, followed by a bit of a raspberry from between his lips.

  “Stop it. I’m mortified. What do I do?”

  “Try turning sideways,” he offered, pushing at the pocket of hip flesh trapped beneath the squared arm of the chair. “Then kind of wiggle out.”

  Vivian knew there would be no wiggle wiggly enough to liberate two feet of fanny from one foot of chair.

  “Man, you’re really stuck in there, aren’t you?”