The Icing on the Cake

by Janice Thompson

  “Yeah. Maybe.” Not that I’d ever known the woman to take a vacation, but anything was possible, I supposed.

  “You focus on Hannah today,” my mother said. “I’ll have your dad keep trying to reach Willy. I’m sure everything’s fine.”

  “Okay. You’re probably right.”

  Mama was right about one thing. Today was all about Hannah, and I needed to stay alert, to meet her needs, whatever they might be.

  I dressed in casual clothes and carried my maid of honor dress with me. When I arrived at Club Wed at 9:30, Armando had already delivered the cakes. Relief washed over me as I saw that they looked even better in the daylight. I made quick work out of stacking the layers and adding the ribbon, replaying last night’s events as I went along. I found myself giddy, remembering the many kisses Armando and I had shared.

  When I finished the cake, I looked it over with pride. “I think perhaps you were right, Armando.” I spoke aloud, though no one was in the room.

  “Armando?” Bella’s voice rang out from behind me as she walked in. “What’s he done this time?”

  I turned to face her and grinned. “Nothing bad, I promise. And I was so wrong about what happened the other night at the rehearsal.”

  “Oh? Do tell.”

  “When things slow down, I’ll tell you the whole story. But in the meantime, just know that he came to my rescue in the middle of the night last night and helped me frost and decorate that cake. We wouldn’t have had a wedding cake today if not for your brother.”

  “Well, God bless my brother.” She gave the cake a closer look and then offered up an admiring whistle. “I think that’s your best one ever, girlie.”

  “That’s what he said. And I think he was right.” Crazy what we could accomplish when we worked together.

  “Hannah and her sisters are in the bride’s room,” Bella said. “That’s where you ladies are getting dressed.”

  I giggled, in part because the phrase “Hannah and her sisters” put me in mind of the Woody Allen movie, and in part because I could only imagine how giddy my best friend must be on this, her wedding day.

  A couple of minutes later I found Hannah in the throes of setting up her workstation—putting out makeup, jewelry, and so forth. Her gorgeous wedding dress, a beautiful beaded number hand-crafted by Gabi, was hanging in anticipation.

  I dove into maid of honor gear, helping with her hair and locating everything from hairpins to safety pins. Next I kept vigil while one of her sisters did her makeup.

  “What do you think?” Hannah turned my way, the look finally complete.

  “I think . . .” A lump rose in my throat, and I did my best to speak above it. “You’re as pretty as a picture.”

  She giggled. “I’ll bet you say that to all the photographers.”

  “No. The only other photographer I know is Drew, and he’s not pretty.” I clamped a hand over my mouth and then laughed as I pulled it away. “I mean, he’s very handsome, but I wouldn’t call him pretty.”

  “Not to his face anyway.” Hannah chuckled and eased the tension in the room. “But you’re going to get to know another photographer today. Bella’s brother Joey is in town visiting the family and is photographing our wedding. He’ll be here in about thirty minutes to catch all of us in action, so you girls don’t have long to get ready.”

  I rose and reached for my dress, sighing as I saw it hanging next to the other bridesmaid dresses. Oh well. No point in worrying about my size right now. Worrying wouldn’t accomplish anything.

  “Hey, speaking of photographs . . .” Hannah stood and faced all of us. “Drew and I have a surprise for all of our guests.”

  “Oh? What kind of surprise?” I asked.

  “Something special. We thought it would be fun, since we’re both photographers.” She clasped her hands together and grinned. “We ordered a photo booth. It’s being delivered in a few minutes. They’re going to set it up in the reception hall.”

  “A photo booth?”

  “Yes,” she said. “You know, like the ones in the mall. You go inside and make funny faces and it spits out your picture. Only this one won’t cost anything.” Her eyes sparkled with obvious delight. “We provided all sorts of props too. Hats, feather boas, over-the-top jewelry, even a king and queen crown. And it’s free for the guests. Just grab whatever prop—or person—you like and slip inside to have your picture taken. You keep the pictures as a memento. Isn’t that a great idea?”

  “Yeah. Great.” I nodded, but in my heart I groaned. Just one more way to capture this day in photographic form. If only I could’ve lost a few more pounds so that I would look like the other girls when I was in my dress. Ugh.

  “Okay, well, hurry up and get dressed so you all can help me into my gown.” Hannah turned back to face the mirror. “I’m going to go ahead and get my jewelry on while I’m waiting.”

  Her sisters did that usual girl thing where they peeled down to their underclothes in front of each other, but I headed to the bathroom to change into my dress. I found myself more than a little intimidated and decided I needed some privacy. Once alone, I slipped out of my jeans and T-shirt and wriggled my way into the Lycra undergarments I’d purchased special for today. The bottom piece went on okay, but getting the top piece into place almost turned out to be my undoing. At one point I thought I might have to call for backup. How humiliating would that be?

  I finally managed and was startled to see just how much smaller I looked with Lycra holding everything in place. Not that I could breathe. Then again, breathing was highly overrated on days like today, wasn’t it?

  Though gaspy, I knew I must forge ahead. I reached for the maid of honor dress, but as I slipped it over my head, it felt different from before. Odd. Once I got it on, I reached to pull up the side zipper and gasped when I realized the dress was too big. Not just a little too big either. Ack. Happy problem, but not on a day like today, with less than an hour to go before my best friend’s wedding. And with the new photographer waiting? Now what?

  I walked out of the stall and stood in front of the mirror, analyzing the situation. Bella chose that moment to enter. She buzzed from stall to stall, checking the toilet paper supply, but paused when she saw me standing there, examining my reflection.

  “Scarlet.” She stood alongside me and stared at my reflection.

  “Houston, we have a problem.” They were the only words I could manage.

  “No kidding.” She reached for the excess fabric on the sides of the dress. “Okay, don’t panic.”

  “Do I look like I’m panicking?”

  “No, not yet. We might be in luck. Gabi’s here. She came just in case we need her to make any last-minute nips or tucks to Hannah’s dress.”

  “Oh, this is perfect. She’s the one who fitted me in the first place.”

  “Right. I’m pretty sure she can work some magic with this dress if we can just get her to a sewing machine. Hang on a second and I’ll go get her.” She sprinted out of the room and returned moments later with Gabi at her side.

  “Bella says we have a problem.” The petite young woman stood back and examined my dress. “Man. That’s not what it looked like when I fitted you a few weeks ago, is it? Not even close.”

  “I guess I’ve changed a little since then.” A nervous giggle erupted.

  “More than a little, I’d say.” She grabbed excess fabric from each side and pulled the dress tight. “Okay, we’re talking at least two inches. Maybe three. Girl, you’ve dropped some weight.”

  “Guess so. Didn’t realize it was that much, though. Most of my other clothes are loose fitting, so I haven’t been paying that much attention.”

  “I always keep an emergency kit in my car. Pins, measuring tape, and so on.” She looked more confident than I felt, which made me feel better about the situation. Just as quickly, her confident look faded a bit. “But I don’t have a sewing machine.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” Bella said. “My parents live next door with
my aunt and uncle. My aunt Rosa has a top-of-the-line Bernina.”

  “You’ve just spoken the magic word.” Gabi’s face lit into a smile. “Okay, I’ll be right back.”

  She headed out to get the pins and returned minutes later, sewing kit in hand. At this point, a frantic race to the altar—Hannah’s, not mine—began. By now, all of the bridesmaids were gathered around me like baby chicks with their mother hen. Nervous chicks. The clock ticked down the hour. With the photographer due in ten minutes and the bride waiting alone in a separate room, we were truly in countdown mode.

  Gabi pinned my dress, then signaled for me to take it off. I didn’t want to pull it off in front of the other girls—especially girls as slim and trim as Hannah’s sisters—but I had no choice. At least they got to see the Lycra-sized version of me. That brought some degree of comfort. Besides, all I could think of was Hannah. She’d been left in the bride’s room alone to deal with her gown. Would she hate me for this?

  Forgive me, Hannah! I didn’t mean to ruin your wedding day.

  “Where are your other clothes?” Bella’s words startled me back to reality and reminded me that I was still standing in my undergarments in front of the others. Go figure. It hadn’t even fazed me.

  I gestured to the stall, and she grabbed my jeans and T-shirt, then tossed them my way. “I’m guessing it won’t take her long, but you might as well put these on.”

  “Right.” I wriggled into my jeans. They too felt looser, but then again they would, what with my thighs being compressed in the Lycra torture suit. The T-shirt felt baggy as well, but I didn’t have time to worry about that.

  “I need to do my makeup.” Scrambling, I found my bag. “I feel like such a heel.”

  “Why?” Hannah’s youngest sister asked.

  “This is Hannah’s day. I’m her maid of honor. She needs me.”

  “She’s talking to Mama right now,” one of the other sisters said, then rolled her eyes. “They’re having ‘the talk.’”

  “The talk?” I gave Bella a curious look, and she raised an eyebrow. “Ohhh. The talk.”

  “Yeah, apparently Hannah’s mother has been trying for weeks to have this mother-daughter chat, and Hannah has done her best to avoid it. But today she’s a captive audience.”

  A giggle followed on my end. “Okay, well, maybe she doesn’t need me right now, after all. I would have very little to contribute to that conversation.” I reached for my makeup bag and went to work on my face, starting with the foundation. The other girls stood nearby, double-checking their makeup in the mirror alongside me. Before long Hannah’s sisters headed off to check on the bride, leaving me alone with Bella.

  As I worked, we chatted nervously, but I could tell something was up. Bella kept giving me a weird look. Was I imagining it?

  No. She leaned against the counter and crossed her arms at her chest, falling silent.

  “Spit it out, girl,” I said as I ran the blush brush across my cheeks. “You’ve got something on your mind.”

  “I do.” She hesitated, and I could sense her concern. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about this for a while now but couldn’t seem to find the right time. I wanted to wait until the others left to bring it up.”

  “You want me to bake more cakes for Club Wed?” I hope.

  “Well, that too, but this is more personal.”

  I quirked a brow. “You having another baby? Do I sense a baby shower cake in my future?”

  She threw a hand up in the air. “Bite your tongue! My hands are so full right now I hardly have time to breathe, let alone run a business. So, no babies. Yet.” She flashed a coy smile.

  I pulled out my lipstick and ran it across my lips, then smacked them together. “What, then?”

  Bella spoke to my reflection in the mirror. “Scarlet, let me ask you a question. I know you’re on a diet and all that. You look great, by the way. Gabi was right about that, for sure.”

  “Thank you.”

  Her nose wrinkled. “Look, I get that you want to be happy with yourself, so please don’t misunderstand what I’m about to say.”

  Okay, that really made me wonder what she was about to say.

  She released a slow breath and gave me a pensive look. “I just wonder . . . do you feel lovable . . . just like you are?”

  “Just like I am?” Ugh. Why did we have to go there?

  “Because you are, you know. You’re like Mary Poppins—practically perfect in every way.”

  That got a snort out of me, one that brought a certain degree of embarrassment. “Seriously? I’m far from perfect.”

  “What I mean is, it doesn’t matter how you look. The number on the scale doesn’t define you.”

  I looked at her reflection and did my best not to sigh. Standing there in her designer dress, she looked more supermodel than wedding coordinator. Then again, she always did. Every curly hair was in place. Her clothes were impeccable.

  I sighed. “You don’t understand. You couldn’t possibly.” What are you, a size 2? Have you ever been overweight a day in your life? No, I think not.

  “To some extent, maybe not. But I’ve got my own hang-ups. We all do. Still, you seem to be a little . . . fixated.”

  “Fixated?” I glanced at my chubby self in the mirror. “How so?”

  “You talk a lot about weight. And diet. And calories. And carbs.” Bella placed her hand on my arm. “I just want to make sure you realize you’re gorgeous to the Lord. You don’t have to change on his account. So I hope this isn’t about that.”

  “Oh, I know that.” At least, I was pretty sure I knew that. Still, this weight-loss journey wasn’t about proving myself to anyone else. Not anymore.

  “Bella . . .” I brushed my hands on my jeans and reexamined my reflection in the mirror. “I’m just really, really tired of being uncomfortable in my own skin. It’s time for a change.”

  Her face lit into a smile. “Okay, then. That I can live with.”

  “And I want to be healthy,” I added. “I want to live to see my babies and my grandbabies.” I giggled. “And I want to be . . . sexy.”

  “Girl, you are.”

  “Maybe. Hard to tell at this stage of my life. But one day I want my husband to think I’m ravishing.” Images of Armando danced in my brain—handsome, precious Armando. Suddenly I could hardly keep the giggles from erupting.

  “He will.”

  “Yes, he probably will. And God already does.” How could I make her understand that I’d already figured out all of that on my own? “But it’s important that I feel as good about myself as I possibly can, which is why I’m working at it. I might never lose a ton of weight, and that’s okay. I just need to know that I’m doing the very best job I can with the body God gave me. That’s all. No more excesses.” I put my hand up. “Scout’s honor.”

  “No crash diets?”

  “Never again, I promise.”

  “Good girl. Then I heartily approve.” She sighed. “Though how you manage working around all of those sweets is beyond me. I look at cake and all I want to do is ask for the largest piece you have.”

  “Then you will have my largest piece.” I laughed. “Just as soon as this ceremony is behind us. I think you’re going to like the Italian cream cake I made for Hannah’s wedding. It’s your aunt Rosa’s recipe.”

  Her nose wrinkled. “Her old recipe or the new one she stole from the web?”

  “The new one.”

  We both laughed.

  “I changed up a couple of things to make it even better,” I said. “And it’s so good, I might even have a piece myself. I can do that, you know. Without eating the whole cake, I mean. I really can have my cake and eat it too.”

  Whoa.

  For the first time, I’d spoken those words and understood them.

  “I can have my cake and eat it too,” I repeated.

  “Awesome.” She flashed a smile, likely wondering why the phrase meant so much to me. How could she possibly understand the depth of the words?
I’d only just discovered the truth of them myself.

  Just then Gabi came bounding back into the room, dress in hand. “Did it!” she hollered, then tossed the dress my way.

  “Girl, you’re a miracle worker!” I proclaimed.

  I scrambled out of my clothes, not the tiniest bit worried about my chubbiness, and she slipped the dress over my head and zipped it up. The three of us—Bella, Gabi, and I—stood back and examined my appearance in the mirror with the fitted maid of honor dress now in place, showing off my every curve and making me look like a plus-size model.

  “Wow.” Bella gave a little whistle. “I can’t wait for Armando to see you looking like this.”

  Me either. Only, I wouldn’t say that aloud. Not in front of Gabi, who stood nearby beaming like a proud mama.

  The ladies headed off to see to the final details of the wedding, and I slipped into the bride’s room to visit with Hannah. Thank God her mother had finished “the talk.” Hannah stood there red-faced, looking completely embarrassed.

  “Well, that was fun,” she said and giggled. “Remind me to tell you later what she said.” She shook her head and pinched her eyes shut. “Ooo, I wish she hadn’t told me some of that. Now I wonder if I’ll be able to think about anything else when I see Drew.”

  “Well, let’s find something else to talk about. Like your dress, for instance. I know you’re ready to put it on.”

  “Yes. My sisters have disappeared on me. But speaking of dresses, you look gorgeous. That dress was made for you.”

  Literally.

  “Thanks,” I said. “Now, back to you. I would love to have the honor of helping you into your gown. What’s a best friend for?”

  Hannah turned toward me, eyes misty. “She’s for helping me through the toughest week of my life. I couldn’t have made it through the last few days without you, Scarlet. Thank you so much.”

  “You’re worth it.” I gave her a little wink, then walked over and grabbed the wedding gown. Gabi entered the room at that very moment and helped me get the bride into her dress, then we stood back and let out admiring whistles.

  “Wow.” The white satin dress took my breath away, but the intricate beading really took the cake.