How to Bake the Perfect Wedding Cake

by Gina Henning

  Since I’m alone, I head for the bar. Obviously, I wouldn’t sit on a big couch by myself. The last time I sat at a big couch alone in a bar I could practically hear the pitiful chatter about me. As if I had been stood up by my date. If they only knew the reality. The only date to ever stand me up was at the airport. I shake my head and purse my lips. Don’t go there, Lauren. I’m about to grab a seat when my arm is being pulled. I turn around. I’m ready to go full ninja on whoever is trying to accost me in a public place.

  “Lauren! I’m so glad you came.” Brianna grabs me in a tight squeeze. I sigh and hug her back and then drop my hands down to her arms. She is dressed like a fashion model as usual, with her bright-emerald-green cocktail dress with the perfect opal bauble necklace, accompanied by her new Brian Atwood color-blocked gladiator heels. I wish I had her shoe budget. But then again, she is a real estate agent in a hot market. Maybe with my new promotion I will be on the same level of Brianna with her shopping sprees. Ha, probably not but one can dream.

  “Where’s Owen?”

  “He’s over there,” Brianna points to the far corner of the room. Her shiny raven hair swings as she turns her head. Owen is wearing his office attire, he’s a stock broker for a big firm. He is a few years older than us, but no real signs of gray yet. Although, if I were in that line of business with the type of stress he encounters, I think I would look like Meryl Streep in 101 Dalmatians. I’m sure when I go gray it will look similar with those chunky stripes. Except I will color it. My hair stylist had the gall to tell me the other day that he found a gray. I almost cried in the chair. He must have sensed my concern and changed his story to it being a blond hair and then dropped the evidence before I could inspect it myself.

  “We got a table, I told him about how we were going to hang out tonight and he said it was wrong to cancel, well I didn’t cancel, but put off our plans, so anyways here we are!” She squeezes me again.

  “Oh, that was nice of Owen, but I don’t want to impose on your date…especially if y’all are still rekindling things.” My eyebrows are furrowed. I’m more than a little surprised to see Brianna or Owen for that matter.

  “Don’t be silly,” Brianna shoves my shoulder a little and links arm with me, practically dragging me to her table, or rather their table. I really don’t want to be a third wheel.

  At the table, Owen stands up. “Hey, Lauren, it’s good to see you.” He gives me friendly hug.

  “You too, Owen.” I pat his back and sit down.

  “Oh my gosh, the service tonight has suuuucked. I’m going to go to the bar and buy you a drink, wine or fancy schmancy tini?” Brianna grabs her purse.

  “I can get it.”

  “Absolutely not! I’m so happy you’re here, first rounds on me. Which one is it going to be?” Brianna pushes me down in my chair.

  “Surprise me.”

  “You know I love surprises.” Brianna winks at me and heads for the bar.

  “So…how are things going?” Owen asks as he takes a sip of his gin and maybe tonic.

  “Good. Real good. How about you?” I play with the straps on my purse. I’ve never had to deal with small talk and Owen. It’s weird because I have a portfolio of information about him. His likes, his dislikes, his quirks and funny mannerisms, it’s completely information overload and now here I am sitting in front of him without Brianna.

  “Same. So when do you head home for Christmas?” Owen asks, taking another sip, he’ll be done with his drink before Brianna returns with mine.

  “Oh, I’m not going home this year.” The bar is packed and I can’t even find Brianna in the crowd, I glance back at Owen and see a tall guy standing against the wall alone. Which is odd, because why would anyone stand near the wall of a bar and not actually be near the bar? The lights are low, but for some reason he looks like Jack. Most likely because I can’t stop thinking about him. Lauren, get a grip.

  “Lauren?” Owen is staring at me, like he’s irritated or something?

  “Yes?”

  “I asked you why you aren’t going home.” Owen said, swallowing the last of his drink.

  “I’m sorry. I thought I saw someone that I knew over there. I’m not going home, well, to be honest because of that person.” I shake my head. I can’t believe I spoke those words out loud. But then again, it’s not like Owen is going to call my family and tell them. After the nonsense fell from my mouth, I’m struck by how silly I’m being.

  “So the person is a guy and you aren’t going home because of him?” Owen asks, eyebrows pushed together.

  “I know after I said it out loud…I realize how ridiculous that sounds.” I shake my hair back and laugh. From the corner of my eye I steal a glance at the wall, the guy is gone.

  “Yeah, it does sound ridiculous, but what happened? What did he do that was so bad that would make you not want to see your family at Christmas?” Owen runs his hands through his hair.

  “Well, he was supposed to come see me a few weeks ago, and then he didn’t.” Where is Brianna? This is taking far too long.

  “Maybe something came up. Did he contact you at all?” Owen grabs a hold of a waiter that is walking by.

  “Seven and Seven and two Holidaytinis.” He hands the waiter his card.

  What is taking Brianna this long? She should be sitting here with Owen, not me.

  “Maybe I should go and check on Brianna, she’s been gone for a while.” I stand up.

  Owen nods and pulls out his phone.

  I march over to the bar. There isn’t an open seat. I peer through the crowd of people searching for any sign of Brianna. A warm hand latches onto my arm and pulls me away from the crowd. I cast my eyes down at the hand and then follow it all the way to the pressed button-down shirt of a guy. A guy with sandy-blond hair and piercing blue eyes. Eyes that draw me in. It’s Jack. Jack?

  “Jack, what are you doing here?” I shake my arm out of his embrace.

  “I came to see you.” Jack grabs for my hand. Here he is, standing in front of me. Am I going nuts? I take him in, all of him. Here he is, in the flesh, with those same sparking blue eyes with flecks of green. They are staring back at me, searching for a response.

  “Okay.” My lips are trying to form words, sentences, questions, something.

  “Lauren, I’m sorry about before. I didn’t want to call or text, I wanted to ‒ I needed to talk to you about it in person. That’s why I’m here.” He gathers my body in towards his. His shirt is soft against my skin, his arms are strong around my waist, pulling me in closer to him. I inhale and his minty scent mixed with apples and sandalwood rises up, awakening my senses. These emotions can’t simply be swiped away.

  “Let’s get out of here.” Jack leads me towards the exit and I begin to follow.

  “I can’t.” I pause and search the crowd for Brianna.

  “Why? Are you on a date?” Jack’s chest pumps out and a vein begins to throb on the side of his throat.

  I smile. “Yes, I am…” I wait a second as his eyebrows furrow. “With my friend Brianna, that’s her boyfriend, Owen, over there.” I point to the table where Owen is sitting at alone. His drink and the two Holidaytinis have arrived, but not Brianna.

  “I see.” Jack says.

  “Come on, I want to introduce you to them.” I pull him over towards the table. Even though I’m not technically dragging him, the weight of his body is cumbersome as I lead the way, he is putting up a bit of a resistance in his step. He is not coming over easily. Reminds me of how my niece Winter drags her heels when we have somewhere important to go and she isn’t finished playing with her dolls.

  “Hey, Owen, this is Jack.” I raise my eyebrows at Owen. Hopefully, he will understand who Jack is and not out me for my earlier wallowing.

  The guys exchange greetings as I head for the bar to find Brianna. Where could she be? I peek in between the crowded people to see if I can get a spot of her. Absolutely no signs, not even her signature laughter. I make my way to the end of the bar and lock eyes on a gl
impse of her small frame. She is closed in behind two big NFL football player types. I try to push through but I am unable to get them to budge. I pry my head in between the cracks of their arms.

  “Brianna? Can you come on back to our table?” I push my fingers into the guys’ sides. Do they seriously not feel my fingers poking them? Good grief.

  “Lauren? Hey, guys, can you step aside, my friend is trying to push through.” Like trained dogs, the red sea parts and Brianna is no longer a sliver but her entire frame is visible.

  “Hey, Jack is here.” I say and nod my head in the direction of our table, the spot where we are supposed to be sitting.

  “What? Jack?” Brianna stumbles off the stool and cranes her neck to see. I ignore any possible drinks she might be abandoning and guide her over to our table.

  “Jack, this is my friend Brianna.” I wave my hand like Vanna White in front of a glowing rectangular box.

  Jack stands up and shakes Brianna’s hand. “So, Jack. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Brianna slides into Owen’s lap barely missing spilling his drink. She takes it from his hand and takes a sip.

  Jack smiles at her. How many rounds has Brianna had between the time she left to get my drink and returning to our table? I don’t want to hang around for a Brianna unraveling, I know we have only a short amount of time now before her night is technically over.

  “Hey, we have a bunch of catching up to do, so we’re going to go.” I grab onto Jack’s arm. He offers his hand to Owen. Brianna swipes it away. “No. Come on. You both just got here, I want to chat.”

  “Bri, I think we need to leave too.” Owen says, standing, which forces Brianna to stand as well. She grabs onto his arms to steady herself. I give her a ‘get a control on yourself’ glare. She doesn’t want me to enforce the pinch of reality check on her. I can tell by her eyes, she is aware of this fact and she nods in recognition.

  We wave goodbye and Jack opens the door into the cold dark night.

  Chapter Two

  The entire drive home, my eyes switch between the road and the rear-view window. I don’t want to lose sight of Jack. He said he would follow me home. But I can’t help it, I fear he won’t. Quite possible one little turn and ‒ poof! ‒ he won’t be there.

  I hit the pewter gray clicker on my visor to open my garage and glide my car in. I step outside and close my car door. I bite my lip and wait. It’s cold in my garage. I bounce up and down until Jack arrives. Even though I would prefer for him to enter through my front door instead of my garage, I forgo formalities and show him in through the garage door which leads into my laundry room. Thankfully, I have no delicate undergarments hanging to dry as we pass the washing machine and dryer. I trek up the stairs with Jack at my heels. I unlock the door which leads into my living room.

  “So this is my house.” I wave my arm around the room.

  “It’s nice.” Jack nods.

  I bite my lip and make my way to the kitchen. I didn’t even get to try my holiday-tini. Hopefully, Brianna left it as well. She seemed to have hit her max. However, I on the other hand am in need of a drink – I can’t believe I have Jack-the-no-show in my house. As I reach to open the wine glass cabinet Jack pulls me in close to him.

  “I’ve missed you.” He kisses me. The flickering sensations are there, but I’m confused. I’m not ready to lock lips with Jack. Not yet. I need to know why he didn’t come. Why he stood me up.

  I pull back from his embrace. “Do you want something to drink?”

  “Sure.” He lets go of my waist.

  The blood in my body is heated, but I’m not rushing into anything. I grab a Cabernet from my wooden wine rack and unscrew the cork. Pop. From the cupboard I select two of my favorite wine glasses and pour a healthy amount into each one. A lot of wine is probably necessary for whatever it is he wants to say.

  I give him one of the glasses. “Thank you. Do you want to sit down and talk?” he asks.

  “That sounds good.” I take a swallow. It’s surreal to be standing in my kitchen with Jack, especially since I didn’t think I would see him again, let alone in my house. And definitely not in my kitchen, it’s like one of those puzzles where you have to figure out what doesn’t belong. I had never imagined Jack in my kitchen. Well, I had prior to him being a no show at the airport. But then all of those thoughts vanished and everything prior to them didn’t seem real.

  Jack grins at me. “Where should we sit?”

  I laugh, “Let’s go in the living room.” I lead him around the entryway of the kitchen and back into my living room where my seating consists of a couch and leather chair. I suppose we’ll sit on the couch next to each other. I stop midway and slide back onto to the gray suede microfiber.

  Jack takes a sip of his wine and places the glass on my hickory coffee table. A garage sale find, I got it for twenty bucks and it’s made out of solid wood, not pressed-going-to-break-any-moment-wood.

  “Lauren, you look great. I haven’t seen you in leather.” Jack tugs on my skirt.

  I smile. “Well, technically, Jack, you haven’t seen me in much.” I laugh, realizing my faux pas.

  Jack smiles. “I wish that were the case.”

  “I mean, you haven’t seen me that much in person.” I take a sip of my wine.

  “I know what you meant, Lauren. Anyways. Listen, I’m truly sorry I didn’t show up at the airport. I came here to explain it to you in person.” Jack rubs my thigh and reaches for my hand.

  “You said you didn’t have any kids.” I blurt out.

  “Kids? What? I don’t. Why would you say that?” Jack lets go of my hand.

  “Uh, nothing. I just figured whatever held you up had to be important…like a child.” I stare at my glass. My cheeks are warm and it’s not from the wine. I’m embarrassed. Why can’t I play it cool?

  “Well, it is important, but it’s not a child. It’s Vintage Estates.” Jack picks up his glass and takes a long swallow. His Adam’s apple flexes.

  “Vintage Estates, is it okay? Did it catch on fire? Is my grandmother safe?” I stand up. I’m freaked out, I need to find my phone and call my parents.

  “Lauren, it’s okay. Your grandmother is fine. There was no fire. Well, not physical fire.” Jack takes another sip of his wine like he’s taking his time trying to find the right words.

  I sit back down next to him and squeeze his arm. “What do you mean, Jack?”

  Jack shakes his head. “It’s well, things are on fire as in the red. When my brother died, Sherry his widow took over running the financial side of things and I was supposed to manage the rest of the place. Her job was the books.” Jack picks up his glass and finishes the remains of his wine. I stride back to the kitchen for the bottle and when I return Jack has his hands in his hair. His soft hair. I want to have my fingers in it too. But not yet, I need to figure out what has him so bothered, this is so out of character for him. He always seems so confident.

  “What is it, Jack?” I pour some more wine into both of our glasses.

  “Anyways, like I said her job was the books and now, well, she’s booked it.” Jack takes a sip of his wine.

  “What?” I don’t understand what he’s trying to say.

  “She’s gone, Lauren. Sherry left with everything. She fudged the books for a while until she siphoned all of the money from the home into a different account of hers and took off. The police have her last spot in Jamaica. Now, who knows?” Jack runs his fingers through his hair.

  “Wow.” Is all I can manage to say. I’m floored. I’m shocked. I’m stunned. I flitter my eyes, trying to bring clarity to this situation. I rub my lips together. I’m parched. I take another sip of my wine.

  “Exactly.” Jack takes another long swallow and stares at me. His eyes are full of worry and stress, it’s clear now how upset he is. The dark circles under his lashes indicate a severe lack of sleep.

  “What are you going to do?” I rub his arm. His muscles are flexed. I’m sure the tension is not for my enjoyment but due to stress. Reg
ardless of the reason, they are firm. I blink. I need to get a grip. I need to be there for him, not merely physically but emotionally.

  “I’m going to let the authorities do what they can and try to figure things out.” He moves his head as though he is shaking off a bad memory. “Listen, I’m sorry to concern you with any of this. But I needed you to know why I didn’t come before.” He picks up my hand and kisses my knuckles one by one.

  “I don’t know what to say.” I study his eyes. Eyes which are circled by a shade of sleeplessness nights still send me tugging sensations in all regions of my body.

  “Say, you aren’t mad at me, that you won’t hold it against me.” Jack brings up my other hand to his mouth and repeats each kiss.

  “Jack, that’s ridiculous, how could I be mad at you?” I squeeze his hands. I glance up at him. “However, you could have left more than one voicemail.” I focus on the floor. I’m happy Jack is here, but I was left in the dark for quite a while.

  “I know and I’m sorry.” Jack grabs my hand and brings it to his lips. “I just couldn’t tell you any of this over the phone or by texting. Honestly, Lauren, I didn’t want to tell you at all and burden you with any of this information.” Jack sighs.

  “Burden me? Not knowing why you didn’t show up was burdening me. I had no idea what happened. Have you ever showed up at the airport excited to see someone and to find out they didn’t make the trip? And then to listen to a voice mail with no real explanation? “I pull my hands back and let them rest in my lap for a second, then reach for my wine glass and take a long sip.