Back on Blossom Street

“That’s not a good plan,” Susan challenged, sitting back and regarding the two of them.



“Why don’t we discuss the cake itself,” Alix said, hurriedly changing the subject. She might still end up attending those diplomacy classes at the rate this was going.



“All right,” Susan reluctantly agreed.



“I was at a wedding a couple of years ago,” Jacqueline piped up enthusiastically. “And the wedding cake was in-cred-ib-le.” Eyes closed, she enunciated each syllable. “I was surprised to find out it was cheesecake.”



“Cheesecake?” Susan repeated.



“I don’t think—”



Jacqueline broke in. “Cheesecake would be perfect for the wedding dinner at the country club. It would be such an elegant finishing touch.”



Susan shook her head, dismissing the idea. “Since my husband’s a pastor, we’ve had the opportunity to attend a large number of weddings. So I can tell you that the huge wedding cake isn’t how it’s done anymore.”



“Really?” This came from Jacqueline, who looked somewhat taken aback.



“Oh, there’s a formal cake, but not one of those three-tiered monstrosities that so often dominated a reception table. My heavens,” she said, warming to the subject, “I remember a wedding where there was a larger cake—” she held her hands a distance apart to indicate the size “—and then five or six smaller ones surrounding it. I must say it was all cleverly done. I learned later that the cakes cost—well,” she said, mildly embarrassed. “None of that’s important.”



“I want the very best for Alix,” Jacqueline insisted proudly.



“I was thinking of baking a traditional white cake,” Alix inserted, seeing that the conversation was rapidly getting away from her.



The room went silent as both women stared at her. Her suggestions seemed to be neither wanted nor appreciated.



Susan picked up her coffee, and after clearing her throat, said, “What I started to explain is that a lot of brides are opting for a variety of flavors. Not everyone enjoys white cake.”



“It’s my favorite,” Alix said, although it was plain no one heard her.



“The last wedding I attended served carrot cake and lemon cake and the most delicious chocolate one with a mousse filling,” Susan continued. “I meant to ask what bakery they used but I got sidetracked.”



“Carrot cake,” Jacqueline repeated, sounding astonished. “How…unique.”



“It was wonderful with the cream cheese frosting.”



Jacqueline nodded excitedly. “The cheesecake I mentioned was beautifully decorated. I remember wondering what they’d used for frosting and it was a sweetened cream cheese, too. It would be perfect for Alix and Jordan.”



“How about a traditional white cake?” Alix asked.



Both women frowned at her as if they’d grown irritated with her interruptions.



“We want this to be a wedding everyone remembers,” Jacqueline said kindly. “I’m afraid white cake is just so—” She paused, apparently searching for the right word.



“Ordinary,” Susan supplied.



“Yes, ordinary,” Jacqueline echoed.



“Jordan and I would prefer an ‘ordinary’ wedding and an ‘ordinary’ cake baked by me.” The only way to get either woman to listen was to speak loudly. She didn’t want to be rude but Alix had taken about all she could stand.



Not entirely to her surprise, their immediate reaction was silence. Her words seemed to fall like large stones onto the table, startling Jacqueline and Susan.



“I see,” Jacqueline murmured, looking crestfallen.



Despite her exasperation with them, Alix felt contrite. She didn’t want to hurt Jacqueline’s feelings, or Susan’s, either. She just wanted them to hear her. “I don’t mean to sound unappreciative,” she said earnestly, “but—”



“Maybe we should ask Jordan,” his mother suggested as if it was necessary to bring in reinforcements.



Alix hated to drag her fiancé into this, and yet it might be the only way to settle the matter once and for all. Jordan knew how badly Alix wanted to bake her own cake. They’d discussed that very subject the night before. True, Jordan had seemed distracted and tired, but he’d agreed she should be able to do this. Alix knew he couldn’t care less if the cake was white, yellow or purple. Like her, he just wanted this affair over with.



“He’s at the church,” Susan pulled her cell phone from her purse and hit speed dial. “Jordan Turner, please,” she said, smiling over at Alix.



Alix crossed her arms and waited impatiently, wishing now that she’d taken the initiative and called him herself.



“Hello, Jordan,” Susan said, her voice brightening now that her son was on the line. “We’re all here discussing the wedding and we seem to be at a stalemate.”



After a moment she laughed.



Alix frowned and wondered what Jordan had said that his mother found so amusing.



“No, no, nothing like that,” Susan said next. She glanced at Alix. “Now, about the wedding cake…”



After a few seconds, Susan sighed audibly and handed the phone to Alix. “Jordan wants to talk to you.”



Alix took it. “It’s me,” she said unnecessarily.



“Hi, sweetie,” he said.



“Hi.” Alix kept her voice devoid of emotion, suddenly uncertain whether he even remembered their discussion the night before. Her stomach tensed as a familiar ache came over her. “What’s this about the wedding cake?” Jordan asked.



“Jacqueline wants cheesecake, frosted with sweetened cream cheese.”



He made a noncommittal reply. She supposed that was so she’d know he was listening.



“Your mother suggested a selection of cakes in a variety of flavors.”



“That’s okay, too,” he murmured vaguely.



“Jordan, are you listening?”



“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I was reading an e-mail.”



“This is important,” she snapped. She stood up and walked over to the window, presenting her back to Jacqueline and Susan. “We’re talking about our wedding cake, Jordan. Yours and mine.” In other words, the cake celebrating the beginning of their marriage should be one chosen by them, not anyone else.



“Of course it’s important,” he said. “Listen, can you wait a minute? I’ve got a call coming in.”



Before she could answer, Jordan put her on hold. It was fast becoming clear that her fiancé was less than interested in the details of their wedding.



“Sorry,” he said, switching back after an irritating two minutes.



“No problem,” she lied. It was a problem. This whole wedding was. The inside of her elbow started to itch, and Alix scratched at it through the sleeve of her jean jacket.



“What were you saying?”



“We’re discussing the wedding cake,” she reminded him, trying not to sound as annoyed as she actually felt. “You and I, Jordan,” she said, speaking slowly and distinctly, “discussed this very subject last night and we reached a decision.”



“Yes, we did.”



“Do you remember what that decision was?” she asked pointedly.



Jordan laughed. “You didn’t tell me there’d be a test.”



“Yes, and this happens to be a big test,” Alix said evenly. “Call it the final exam.”



The amusement was gone when he spoke again. “You’re really upset about this, aren’t you?”



“You could say that.”



“What did we decide last night?” Jordan asked.



“You don’t remember, do you?” Knowing beforehand that there’d be a showdown with Susan and Jacqueline, Alix had pleaded her case with Jordan. She’d explained how much she wanted to make a personal contribution to their wedding. The cake was perfect for her. She’d baked several wedding cakes already and this was something she could do and do well. Despite what Jacqueline and Susan seemed to think, she was more than capable of making that cake a showpiece.



“I’m asking you to tell your mother what we decided,” Alix repeated, a cold chill running down her spine.



“I’m sorry, Alix, I was tired last night. I had other things on my mind.”



“I…see.



“Is it really that important?”



“Apparently not,” she returned. She realized how flippant that sounded—and didn’t care.



Jordan sighed. “Come on, Alix,” he pleaded.



She reacted with stone-cold silence.



“I assumed you could make at least one decision on your own. Do what you want. Bake the damn cake if it’s that important to you.”



Jordan was angry now and not bothering to hide it.



“I will, then.”



“I’ve got another call,” he said and without asking, put her on hold again.



She clicked off the phone. Taking a moment to allow her nerves to settle, Alix turned back to face the two women. “We’ve reached a decision,” she told them.



“That’s a relief,” Susan said.



“Cheesecake?” Jacqueline asked, her eyes wide with hope.



Alix nodded. “For one of the cakes.”



“You’re going to do what I suggested?” Like a little girl who’d been promised a special treat, Susan clapped her hands cheerfully. “We’ll have several smaller cakes, right?”



Alix nodded again.



“Each of the cakes will be a different flavor?” Susan turned to Alix for confirmation. “One a cheesecake, of course.”



“That’ll be fine.” Alix walked across the kitchen and gave Susan back her cell.



“I hope Jordan talked you out of baking it yourself.” Susan dropped the phone in her purse, watching Alix.



“He did.”



“Good.” Jacqueline looked pleased. “You’ll thank us later, Alix. Just wait and see.”



Alix’s cell phone rang and she knew without checking that it was Jordan. She turned it off.



“You made the right decision,” Susan assured her. “You’ll have enough to think about on your wedding day without worrying about the cake.”



Alix murmured agreement. Only she was seriously beginning to wonder if there’d be a wedding day.



CHAPTER 20



Colette Blake



C olette glanced at her watch. She was meeting Steve Grisham for dinner at seven-thirty; it was only ten after now. She’d arrived at the restaurant early. This Italian place was new to her and because she’d walked, Colette had given herself an extra fifteen minutes.



Actually, it’d been her idea to meet Steve here rather than have him pick her up. Susannah’s husband, Joe, had recommended the restaurant. It was romantic with small, intimate enclaves, dim lighting and flickering candles. The pungent scent of garlic drifted from the kitchen. If the food was half as good as it smelled, she’d be in epicurean heaven.



Colette wasn’t sure why she hadn’t wanted Steve to come to her apartment. He had before, several times. It just seemed more convenient to meet him here, she told herself.