Frosted With Revenge

by Catherine Bruns

  Cripes. I sent her a text back. Sorry! Will explain when I get there. Can I come in about noon? I glanced at my watch. It was ten o'clock, and I hadn't even packed yet. Plus with my injury I was having trouble moving at a fast pace right now. I went into the bathroom with my coffee, showered, washed my hair, and let the hot water seep into my sore bones for a few minutes. Afterward I felt slightly better as I dressed in jeans and a T-shirt and started throwing things in my suitcase. Bathing suit, lingerie, sandals. Oh, wait a second. What was I forgetting? Actual clothing might be a good thing too.

  I zipped the suitcase shut and grabbed my cosmetic bag. Spike had relented and let me give him a quick hug. Mike had said last night that he would drop him off at the boarding facility later today, and for that I was grateful because it would be difficult for me to say good-bye to him there. I took Mike's Camaro and arrived at Becky's Bridals at twelve fifteen. I burst through the front door, and Becky looked up from the gowns she was arranging on a rack. She shook a menacing finger at me.

  "Your mother called a few minutes ago," she said. "When I told her you hadn't picked up the gown yet, she started to lose it."

  Great. "There's been a lot going on the last couple of days. I've been a bit distracted."

  "Honey," she said in a soothing voice. "I know you and your family, remember? Distraction is your middle name." She glanced sharply at my face. "What the heck did you do to yourself?"

  Ugh. I wasn't getting into this with her right now. "Oh, I tripped and fell. I can't believe how clumsy I am some days."

  Becky glanced at me sharply, and I knew she wasn't fooled, but mercifully she didn't comment further. Instead, she went behind the front counter and handed me a garment bag hanging on the rack next to it. "Go try this on, love."

  There was no time for me to try the dress on. "Becky, you're fabulous at what you do, so I'm sure it's fine. And I'm so late now that I don't have—"

  She shook her head furiously and pointed at the dressing room. "Go!"

  Yikes. I went into the dressing room and shed my clothes as Becky followed me in without even asking and helped position the gown over my head. She glanced at it critically, and then her fingers did the pinching bit at my waist again. She let out a small sigh of satisfaction as she stepped back to observe me. "It's perfect. You look stunning, hon."

  I did a turn in front of the full-length mirror, pleased at what I saw, then gave her a hug. "Thanks, Becky."

  "Careful, you'll wrinkle it!" Becky helped me off with the gown. "It's a shame you had to cancel your reception at the country club. I was looking forward to dancing the night away."

  I lowered my T-shirt over my head. "I know, I'm sorry. Things didn't work out quite the way we had planned."

  She frowned. "But city hall is so unromantic."

  "We'll make it romantic," I said stubbornly. "Thanks again for everything."

  Becky handed me the garment bag. "Be happy, honey. That's what counts."

  In a frantic rush I drove toward my parents' house. My mother wanted me to get ready there, and then they would drive me to city hall to meet Mike for our three o'clock appointment. She had insisted I arrive at the house by noon, and now it was almost one. I braced myself for the reprimand that was surely coming.

  I did feel guilty about letting all of our guests down and had told my mother I wanted to return the wedding gifts that had already arrived. My mother said no, that friends and relatives had assured her they wanted us to have them. Maybe Mike and I could plan a small reception for everyone when we returned from our trip. I'd have to speak to my mother about it.

  I walked into the house and expected bedlam, but my parents had managed to surprise me once again. My grandmother was in the kitchen unloading the dishwasher, like any other normal day. No one else was around.

  "Where is everyone? Upstairs getting ready?" I reached out to hug her.

  Grandma Rosa shook her head. "They had to go out."

  "Go out?" I asked, puzzled. "Go out where?"

  "Your mother had an errand to run," Grandma Rosa said simply, "and she asked your sister and father to go with her. I will help you get dressed."

  Okay, so I could see my parents pulling something like this, but not Gianna. She would have never deserted me. "This sounds really weird. I thought Mom wanted to help me get ready." Cripes, maybe she was upset about something else. "Is she mad at me?"

  Grandma Rosa shook her head. "It is all good. Come." She took the garment bag from my hands and led the way up the stairs as I followed her to my old bedroom. The stairs were rough on my knee, and she waited patiently at the top as I hobbled my way there.

  "Did you bring the brooch?" Grandma Rosa asked.

  I opened my cosmetic bag. "Of course. I'd never forget that." Grandma Rosa had given me a beautiful silver cameo brooch for my birthday recently. She'd explained that it had been a gift from her one true love, many years ago, before my grandfather had entered the picture. The man had gone to Vietnam and never been heard from again.

  The brooch had a beautiful blue topaz stone in the center. I also had a pearl necklace to wear that I had borrowed from my mother, and my gown was new. Therefore I had all of the requirements to fulfill the "something old, something new" traditional saying.

  After Grandma Rosa had fastened the necklace, I handed her a square, wrapped package and card. "Happy Birthday."

  She snorted. "Bah. I told you that I did not want anything."

  "It's nothing expensive," I assured her. My grandmother didn't like presents that were costly. However, this was a gift from the heart, and I knew she'd love it.

  Grandma Rosa unwrapped the present and stared down at it for a long moment before her gaze met mine and she smiled. It was a picture of the two of us I felt sure she had never seen before. We were standing in front of the church where I had made my First Communion over twenty years ago. My mother had taken the photo, sent it for developing afterwards, and then promptly forgot about it. Gianna had found it in a pile of old photographs up in the attic recently. In the white lace dress that Grandma Rosa had made for me, I looked festive and pleased with myself. She stood smiling next to me in a gray suit from Italy that she had worn when she married my grandfather.

  The frame was one that I had made during a ceramics class when I was living in Florida with Colin. Outside of the bakery, I was not creative in the least, and this might be the one time that something I had made by hand had actually turned out halfway decent.

  Grandma Rosa kissed me. "It is beautiful, cara mia, and the frame as well. I am so proud of you and will treasure this always." She set the frame down on the desk and unzipped the garment bag for me while I undressed. After the gown was on, my grandmother picked up the curling iron that was sitting there, sectioning out a strand of my hair to curl.

  I hadn't thought to do anything with my mane and sighed despondently as I stared at my reflection in the mirror hung over the small, white vanity table that I had also used as a desk while growing up. At least makeup hid most of the scratches from yesterday's ordeal. Fortunately the earlier rain outside had stopped, but it was humid, which meant frizz fest for me.

  "I wish the weathermen would get things right for once," I groused. "They said it was going to be beautiful today."

  Grandma Rosa worked on my hair as I continued to complain. She managed somehow to keep the frizz in check, gave it a generous douse of hairspray, and then kissed me on the cheek. "The weather, like the location, does not matter. You are marrying the man that you love. That is what will make the day beautiful."

  I smiled at her. "You're right, as usual."

  Grandma Rosa stood close to me and reached for my hand. "I would like to think that nothing bad will ever happen to you again. But you seem to have a way of attracting trouble, by no fault of your own. Perhaps it is your destiny to somehow make this world a safer and better place for others. Learn to accept things for what they are. You are marrying a wonderful man today. Embrace your new life together."

  There
was a lump in my throat. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

  Her eyes clouded with emotion, a rarity for my grandmother. "I will always be with you, cara mia. Someday, even if you cannot see me anymore, remember that I am still with you."

  My phone buzzed in my lap, and I stared down at it in annoyance. What lousy timing. Who would dare interrupt such a special moment with my grandmother, the other love of my life? I was tempted not to answer.

  "Go ahead," Grandma Rosa urged. "It may be important."

  The number did look familiar, so grudgingly I pressed Accept. "Hello?"

  A man's high-pitched voice greeted me. "Hello, is this Sally?"

  "Yes, speaking."

  "Hi, Sally. It's Ray over at Purrfecting Your Pet. I was wondering if you were still planning on dropping Spike off today."

  I stared at the phone, confused. "Mike was supposed to have dropped him off by now."

  Ray cleared his throat. "Oh. Well, I called his cell, but he didn't answer. I thought he said he'd be here by one. We close at two, but I'm running a bit late today with cleanup."

  I glanced down at my watch, and a chill went through me. It was two thirty. "I'll call him and see what happened."

  "I can hang out a little while longer if you like." His tone was polite but not especially friendly, and somehow I sensed that he didn't prefer to wait.

  "No, that's not necessary. I don't want to inconvenience you any further. Thanks anyway."

  I disconnected and dialed Mike's number which went straight to voicemail. I texted him once then again a minute later, but he didn't respond.

  Grandma Rosa watched me closely. Distress must have registered on my face. "Cara mia, whatever is the matter?"

  I bit into my lower lip, determined not to panic. "Mike didn't drop off Spike. What are we going to do with him? And why hasn't Mike answered me? He was on a wet roof this morning. What if he fell off and got hurt?"

  "My dear," she said soothingly. "You should not worry. I am sure that he is fine. And do not be upset about Spike. We can keep him until Monday and then take him over to the hoarding house."

  I winced inwardly. "Grandma, it's boarding, not hoarding."

  She nodded. "That works too. Come. We need to be going."

  I wrung my hands in frustration. "How can we go? I don't even know where Mike is."

  "My dear granddaughter," she murmured. "You are letting your imagination run away with you again. Everything is fine. We need to leave, for it is almost three o'clock."

  I followed her down the stairs and out the front door, careful to close and lock it behind me. "I can't believe this is happening on my wedding day." Could I have just one normal day of my life? "Do you want me to drive?"

  She gave me a disbelieving look. "We will take my car. I want to get to your wedding in one piece."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Ten minutes later, Grandma Rosa turned the car onto my street. I looked around, confused, as she pulled into my driveway. "What are we doing here?"

  She smiled but didn't answer. Mike's truck was in the driveway, and my parents' car and Johnny's Ford Mustang were both parked at the curb. "Did Mom and Dad come here to meet me by mistake? What's going on?"

  My grandmother calmly got out of the car and came around to my side to help me out. "How about you go see for yourself."

  As we started toward the front door, my father, dressed in the black suit he wore primarily for wakes and funerals, came out to greet us.

  His warm brown eyes regarded me with pride. "You look like a million bucks, baby girl."

  "Thanks, Dad. Will you tell me what's going on?"

  He extended his right arm to me. "I'm here to walk you down the aisle for your wedding."

  "What are you talking about? We're going to city hall to get married."

  "Nope," he said cheerfully. "That's been canceled. Come on." He opened the door, let Grandma Rosa go ahead of us, and then escorted me inside.

  Nothing could have prepared me for the site that met my eyes. My small living room had been decorated with streamers and paper wedding bells that hung from the ceiling. Our fireplace mantel had been adorned with a lace coverlet, on top of which sat several lit candles in white porcelain holders. There were small vases of pink and white roses situated in between each one of them.

  Josie and Gianna stood to the side of the couch looking lovely in their pastel gowns. Tears had already formed behind my sister's eyes as she handed me a bouquet of pink and white roses.

  "Here, love." Gianna leaned over to whisper in my ear. "I called the florist yesterday and asked if they could substitute pink roses for the red."

  "Great idea." I kissed her on the cheek.

  Josie was pale and had dark circles under her eyes but managed to give me a broad smile. Father Grenaldi was standing in front of the fireplace, book in hand. Rob was positioned to his right. There was only one person missing—my groom.

  My mother, who had been sitting on the couch, came over to hug me. "Oh, darling, you look fabulous." There were tears in her eyes, and she stopped to wipe them with a tissue.

  "Thanks, Mom, so do you." She was wearing a beautiful pink, strapless satin dress and a matching jacket with high-heeled silver stiletto sandals. I'd never seen this outfit before. The dress was knee length, something unheard of in my mother's world. There was no cleavage or anything else showing, with the exception of her fabulously shaped legs. Could my mother be turning over a new leaf?

  Not a chance.

  Before I could even attempt to ask about Mike, Josie gripped my arm and led me toward the kitchen. Mrs. Gavelli and Johnny were standing on either side of the doorway, and he stuck out his foot, his eyes shimmering with laughter as he pretended he was going to trip me. Although Josie was walking slow and still in obvious pain, she managed to give him a hard shove so that he almost lost his footing.

  Josie pointed at the kitchen table that had been covered with a white satin cloth. On top of it sat her masterpiece of a wedding cake. My breath caught in my throat as I stared at it in awe.

  "What do you think?" she asked.

  I'd seen Josie's cakes before, of course. It was a means for her to earn some extra money on the side. This time she had truly outdone herself. Her creation consisted of a three-tier, white fondant cake, and each layer in the shape of a heart, the smallest one complete with a bride and groom topper on it. Both the figurines had dark hair, like Mike and me. The cake was decorated with white and pink fondant roses, and each tier was surrounded with white satin ribbons and pearls.

  Josie smiled as she watched me. "The inside has a cookies and cream filling. I thought it was appropriate, in honor of the shop."

  "You spent all of yesterday on this, didn't you?" I asked in disbelief.

  She wiggled her hand back and forth. "A good chunk of it. Don't worry. I sat down for the most part. It wasn't a big deal."

  But it was a big deal—to me. To think that someone who had almost lost their life three days earlier would go to so much trouble for my sake completely overwhelmed me. My throat tightened with tears as I hugged her. "Jos, I don't know how to thank you. It's absolutely stunning. But this was too much trouble for you to go through."

  "Nothing is too much trouble where your best friend is concerned," she said in a shaky voice. "Especially one like you."

  I wiped at my eyes with the back of my hand and hugged her again, not knowing what else to say.

  "Now look," Mrs. Gavelli grunted. "She gonna ruin her makeup because of your cake."

  For once, Josie chose to ignore her nemesis, while I choked back a laugh. We made our way back to the living room, arms around each other's waists.

  "I'll freeze the top layer for you," Josie volunteered. "Then you can eat it at your first anniversary—with the new baby sitting on your lap."

  "What new baby?" My father looked alarmed.

  I laughed. "It's nothing, Dad. Josie's priming me for motherhood."

  Father Grenaldi spoke up. "Excuse me, Sally. I hate to int
errupt, but I think this young man wants to get married."

  Mike was standing at the end of the hallway, having just come out of the bedroom. His eyes met mine, and then he stepped back a bit, as if to take me all in. A broad smile spread across his face.

  As for myself, all I could do was dumbly stare back at him. He looked so handsome in his black tuxedo, his blue eyes shining with such happiness and love that I thought my heart might leap out of my chest at any moment. He went to stand in front of the priest and continued to watch me as my father escorted me toward him.

  There was no music, but it didn't matter. My father nodded at Mike then kissed me on each cheek. He settled himself on the couch next to my mother. Josie and Gianna both stood behind me, next to Rob who was Mike's best man. Grandma Rosa sat in the armchair, nodding and smiling at us.

  The way Mike looked at me made me feel like I was the only person in the room, or perhaps the entire universe. With the exception of children one day, I knew I would never want for anything else. Since that day over ten years ago when we'd broken up, something had always been missing from my life. A dull ache in my chest that I couldn't identify, or perhaps didn't want to. This man completed me. There was no doubt in my mind that I could handle anything life threw at me now, as long as I had Mike by my side. Life was good, wonderful in fact.

  He leaned close and took my left hand in his right one. "You're breathtaking, my princess."

  "So are you," I whispered back.

  He extended his arm around the living room. "What do you think? Were you surprised? I thought it was better than getting married at stuffy city hall."

  Yes, he had surprised me once again. "You did all this?"

  Mike flushed slightly. "To be honest, no. I had the idea yesterday after your—incident. I called your mother last night when you went to bed. She and Gianna scoured the stores this morning for decorations and flowers."

  My mother giggled from the couch. "I'm so glad I never canceled the florist. They were able to make us up some quick pieces for the fireplace. All the other flowers that we couldn't use will be dropped off at the nursing home later on."