Darcy told herself she had time later on to regret the decision, if it went badly.
“So can we do mini cakes instead? I think it will look amazing. Imagine tiers, like a tower. Er, pyramid. Yeah. That’s how it would look and I promise it won’t be all obnoxiously pink,” Gillian said, her tone brightening a little. Pleading.
Why did she want to get mini cakes when a three tier cake was what they ordered? Darcy had found the fondant online and had it shipped to her mother’s house so it could be preserved, which meant she had to pick it up from her house later on before going to the park to setup, but whatever. It would be a show stopper cake fit for a reality show kinda cake on a budget.
“Why? We planned. this.”
“I’m not sure I have the room. I think it will fall over in the car.”
Awesome. Gillian wants to snap the cake plans so she can make her job easier.
Calm. Breathe. “I don’t think that’s quite what we’re going for. Is there any way you could stick with the cake we ordered?” Darcy said and went on to explain, reitierate, the fondant and lace plus cake balls she ordered so the cake could go from being just a pink and white cake with frosting to a gorgeous creation traffic might pause to stare at.
Gillian said, “The minis will be fine. And we won’t have too much cake that way.”
Mini cakes. Didn’t Gillian get it? They are like smaller than bite size cupcakes. Great concept for a kids party so there’s no cutting and pieces are small enough and its way less mess. Not so much for Marcella, who wanted a show me and never forget this party kinda cake for her first grandchild’s shower. Darcy could picture grandma going overboard for this little girl’s first birthday party, like its Billy Madison passing the first grade all over again.
Gillian was being sensible. Darcy hadn’t said anything otherwise.
“I think what Lila wants is the cake we ordered. And I can’t exactly return the fondant anyway,” Darcy said. “We can throwout the leftovers. I don’t care about that.”
Gillian didn’t hesitate. “Look, I’ll get the minis and you’ll thank me later.”
No. How to say no? Darcy wasn’t sure how to redirect Gillian to get her back onto the plan they set in place before this last minute total BS from Gillian started.
Damn all these expectations. Darcy didn’t have the time or space to tote the cake and all the decorations. She felt like she were creating a parade float, packing carefully all the decorations into her rental of regret. She felt like she could turn the Mitsubishi into a giant pink parade float.
“We can’t have the mini’s. No way, Gillian,” Darcy said, trying to sound as nice as possible.
“What if the cake falls over. I don’t want the mess. I’m not even totally sure I’ve got the right amount of room in my car. That and I’ve got a ton of shit in the back that’s taking up space which might fall over on it.”
A fallen over cake was worse than not having a cake at all. Well, sort of. It came down to interpretation. Their mother would see a smashed cake as outright sloppiness. Poor preparation. But no cake. Opportunity tragically missed. Which as worse was debatable.
“Gillian. Please stick with the plan. It’s a custom cake. It will be fine if it’s early and I know they will give you a setup to keep it standing. I already talked with the bakery about it.”
Gillian huffed on the other end. “Fine. I’ll move everything around in my car to make sure this cake makes it.”
Darcy had to accept that Gillian wasn’t happy and be okay with it, so long as Gillian was compliant. Cooperation was key. She had a shower to throw, her sister and the new baby to celebrate. Make friends later. “Thank you for being a sport.”
Gillian made an inaudible sound and Darcy was positive it wasn’t to be mistaken for enthusiasm. “Yeah. Sure. Fine. But here’s my bet we have a shit ton of cake left over and I’m not fucking taking cake home. I won’t even eat any.”
“Thank you for getting that, I appreciate it–”
Call ended.
Darcy slid her phone back in her purse, pausing a moment, watching the traffic on the country road, trying to think how long it should take to get to her next stop, which had to be the park, to start setup, which she had some help on, so she could run to get the food and the topper for the cake, then get back to the park and finish setup, hoping that most of it was done by the time she arrived.
Whew. Okay. Everyone remain calm. The cake they ordered which cost a small fortune anyway without the add ons.
Darcy was thankful, immediately that Elnora, Lila’s mother in law, was only involved in so much as bringing her gift, the coveted nursery set. That’s it. Huge responsibility in the hands of one narsistic bitch.
All the power this pathetic rental car had wasn’t enough to keep from having larger than life trucks with more engine than her rental when multiplied by three, riding her bumper to go faster (the speed limit, for example) than the car was capable of.
She told herself the entire drive out to the party store on the other side of town that she didn’t have to do this to herself. But she did.
Rushing about frantically, she didn’t have the time nor patience to wait around while she hunted for each item she had on her extensive list. She didn’t find them all and had to resolve to make last minute impromptu exceptions. The colors worked, so they would go just fine.
Darcy had a shopping cart full of stuff when she arrived at the counter, having spent twenty-seven precious minutes hunting down all her party decor, all the while asking herself why she hadn’t ordered the stuff online and had it shipped. The answer was simple. The order might have been wrong. The color might not have worked so well, because, as everyone knew, a computer screen didn’t give a perfect match when it came to color. The exact shade of pink, red or violet couldn’t be matched without being there, with the item. Right. Of course. Fabrics were not all cut the same and just because some Etsy website said it was beautiful and well made didn’t mean it would match her envisioned results. Darcy had Jessica Mcfarren, who had some experience party planning for friends, reeled into service, so she needed the right materials, the right colors to get that Pinterest perfect look. Everything was so specific to what she wanted, of course all based on images and video from the Internet. Darcy did enough virtual party planners to barf. Setup was key. First impressions. If on arrival, everyone were pleasantly surprised, then that would set the tone for the rest of the shower; which was way more than just a shower. It was like a welcoming ceremony for the next generation. Because, according to Marcella, this could be her only grandchild. Their mother never said that aloud, at least not using those exact words, but she phrased things distinctly, sharply, to Darcy, so she understood the pressure until it was palpable like a pulseing blood vessel. No room for denial.
It was also a grinding reminder of what happened with Darcy, which made moving past her own trauma that much harder. Okay, it was impossible to move on with all the constant reminders, but Darcy had to tell herself she could move on.
Galen told her she had to. So she had to.
Darcy wished cost were no object and she could have just paid a party planner to make it all happen so all she would have to do is show up. Wouldn’t that be nice? She would only have to show up and enjoy the festivities and games and dote on her sister like their mother wanted.
No so much. Darcy was immersed in decor and on the road to the park to deliver the goods, hoping and praying everyone else followed the schedule. Chiffon, Organza and Tulle oh my.
The park delivery was late because it took too long to haul everything to their desired grassy spot where they were setting up canopy tents, one after another and decorating them. Card tables, all to be decked. Then the center pieces, which were edible. Cake balls galore. Darcy had no control over how it all came together and had to rely on friends of friends to get tasks done.
Consequences of her flight delay.
She had to leave the park, a small fortune spent on decorations abandoned to Jessica
and her friend Kristi who Darcy hadn’t met before, totally trusting they would make the party look spectacular because it wasn’t happening if they didn’t. Two girls had total reign over party decorating because Darcy had to run her next items and get the cake ready, which Gillian should bring to the party within the next half hour. Who was bringing the ice bucket and drinks again? Alyssa. That’s right. She had originally asked Tera to bring them but she brought the tables and the tent instead, which had been a big struggle to find.
In a tizzy, Darcy clamored back in her car, watching not to hit her head as she nearly fell into the seat again, though the small vehicle was now sans pink parade and ready for the next mission. The caterer’s house.
Gilda, the caterer who did everything out of her home didn’t deliver her fabulous creations, she just prepared editable art and Darcy had to haul it herself.
Here goes nothing.
“Tell me it’s ready,” Darcy said, on entry. It had to be. It was already 9:32. Party at Eleven. People would start showing up probably fifteen minutes early and never in Darcy’s life had she been so happy about her mother showing up places late as she was that fine day. Marcella showing up after any last minute setup was over with was a necessity.
Monica, even though her friend had offered several times to make a spread from scratch and she would do a decent job based on her Facebook feed. Okay, not quite scratch. And that whole gluten free trend was totally lost on Monica. She swore it was a myth. All that put together made Monica a non starter for caterer.
Lila was unusually health conscious because of her pregnancy and wanted more veggie based item, if not a little froofy, not necessarily gluten free but an added benefit. Which meant in code, you had to have gluten free items in order for the momma to be’s happiness and bliss at her shower. Very important. Pregnancy hormones were all that for Lila and it had been such a trying pregnancy. After all Lila and Oliver had been through. Doctors visits and stressful examinations. Lila’s tears on her day needed to be happy tears.
Monica was all country fried steak and that wasn’t happening with Lila, even if everyone else were relieved to discover real food at a baby shower. Get real. Baby showers never served real food. It didn’t have to be all dainty menu options, but nothing battered or fried. Grilled chicken on a Cobb salad was acceptable.
Darcy had to ease her explanation to ensure she didn’t hurt anyone’s feelings and still got what Lila wishes and most people attending would be happy with their food choices and feel like they got a meal instead of a typical teaser snack to thoughtlessly eat or pass, easily regarding it as not worth the calories. Darcy had concluded it was impossible to meet everyone’s diet restrictions and tastes, not when their mother had succeeded in making the shower a public spectacle and invited all her friends. Marcella had thrown out numbers like fifty people might come to the shower, like that was a good thing.
No thank you.
No, she could not entrust an old friend to shoulder such a burden. That would be like sicking rabid dogs on her children. So Darcy did the right thing. The friend thing. And saved them both.
Gilda, ever bubbly like she were on a perpetual wine buzz, having recently turned fifty and seemingly undeterred by life’s trauma and events, threw her arms up when Darcy walked in. Donned in leopard print tights and a sequined sweater, she looked all grandma hanging onto slipping youth. Or she lived in total denial of her reflection. Anyone could venture a guess. “My darling girl I am as ready as ever. I’ll even help you load because I need to clear my space for my next order and I’m running a little tight on time, to be honest,” she said and winked without subtlety.
Yes, Darcy was late. By twenty minutes. But no decorations were damaged during the unloading and handoff at a mildly windy park on a lovely, though a little chilly, spring morning.
The party had to happen.
“Sorry. Decorations took too long. Let’s get a move on it,” Darcy said, trying to sound sorry when she knew she didn’t. Darcy sounded rushed. And frantic. She hoped that could be good enough for everyone today. It had to be, because that was all she had.
“How many did you figure?” Darcy asked, looking around at the entourage of food set on counters, tables and the stove, everything arranged on pretty trays, tiered plates and covered with clear plastic casing that looked sturdy enough for transportation, provided Darcy were careful, didn’t drive too fast and had the dishes properly held down in the vehicle. A guggling act ahead, for sure.
“I always aim high,” Gilda said. “You said twenty-five, so I shot for thirty.”
It would do. They might get forty people, potentially fifty, with all the maybe visitors who had said they would offer Lila congratulations and dote on her darlingness. Maybe was the kiss of death to party planning. Seriously. It wasn’t saying no because the invited wanted to give themselves the option to show up, to save face. You just couldn’t budget food for them.
“Perfect,” Darcy said, taking the first try in her hands and making sure she had a good balance of its contents before attempting to move her feet. Gilda bantered about what she had made. Spreads. Dips. Veggies. Cucumbers gone wild. Two different salads, which were like the entrees of the event. She did these darling little black bean burger style sliders with an aioli and a slaw. Fussy, but they had pink bows at the tops of their toothpicks.
Food took twelve minutes just to load it all and the trunk was full unless the food was to be unsafe. The backseat and the floor was full. The front seat had a tower sitting on it and the floor had a relish tray, betting its life on Darcy not stopping fast and ending it’s life with the front seat’s foods following both momentum and gravity for one giant mess in one very small rental car. The salads in the trunk and the veggie burgers, assorted pickled veggies try and deviled eggs three ways were all in the trunk and hopefully, prayerfully, everyone would keep to themselves. Intimacy among foods in Darcy’s trunk was a dangerous thought she couldn’t get out of her head, with every red light she had to stop for, the whole way to the park.
She did not go home for the cake topper, electing to get to the park and recruit help unloading, a careful and speedy process, so she could scramble back to her mother’s house and pickup the topper.
When Darcy arrived at the house her father was there, working on the car in the garage. Her mother was still upstairs, getting ready, apparently. Where had mom put the box with Darcy’s name on it?
Dad had no clue. Awesome.
She had to hunt for where her mother might have put it in the house, presuming it had little value because of course Darcy randomly shipping things to her mother’s house. Right.
Incoming text message from Gillian: where are u?
Oh no. Darcy texted her back: picking up the cake toppings. Do u have the cake?
Please say yes. Please say it’s at the party.
No such luck. Gillian was stuck at the bakery. Waiting. On the cake? Couldn’t be. They ordered it in advance.
Ten minutes wasted searching for the box, Darcy put the toppings box on the front seat floor so it wouldn’t move around and took off without a word to her father, though she had wanted to talk to him because she hadn’t had a chance to visit with him.
Darcy didn’t blame Marcella for wanting to include the entire town for her first grandchild; she just didn’t like the limitations a larger than normal crowd caused. And most of those people would be ‘pop in’ people, which Darcy interpreted as they would make an appearance just to save face, but would not really attend the shower or bring a gift necessarily or participate in games, but it was hard to guesstimate on how much food was really needed. Either they were going to totally run out of everything or have a ton of leftovers.
And Gillian already said she didn’t want leftovers, so there was one non-starter crossed off the list.
Still, all that really mattered to Lila was getting her nursery set. Once the nursery were ready, Lila was ready. Nothing else mattered. She had enough diapers and clothes from church ladies, or so sh
e had said once or twice. More stuff, cutie jammies and burp cloths didn’t hurt. Bonus diapers were fine, throw those boxes in the closet to use later on when toys were not yet taking up all the space.
Marcella had insisted, in no uncertain terms, that Lila’s baby shower were a display of perfection. Darcy felt all the pressure her mother dished out and then some.
She was most of all, afraid that she would offend Lila. Or the guests. Correction: Darcy was most afraid that she would upset her mother most of all, because being Marcella, she would throw everyone else under the bus and drag Lila into the mix. That could not happen.
Darcy took entirely too long to arrive at the park and by the time she pulled into a parking space she got a text message from Gillian: got the cake. On my way.
About damn time, Darcy muttered to herself aloud and felt embarrassed. Her own attitude was heading downhill fast.
It was nearly eleven and the cake wasn’t there, which had to be decorated and that would take some time to setup. She hadn’t heard from Lila, so she didn’t know when her sister, the guest of honor, would arrive. And she could not have Lila arriving without the cake setup and perfect.
Lila already had two false alarms. Wake up. Panic. Phone a friend, in her case, Tera Newyear who was friends with Lila going back to their freshman year of high school. The thing about false alarms were they always happened at super inopportune moments, like wee hours of the morning, maximizing the total emotional yo-yo.
She could only image what Lila was putting Oliver through. Lila’s D-Day was still more than a month away, as it was referred to in the family circle, as though a literal invasion, world peace within their grasp. Her father had coined it, The Invasion.
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