Christmas Wedding at the Gingerbread Café (The Gingerbread Cafe - Book 3) (A Gingerbread Cafe story)

by Rebecca Raisin

  Nervous, I say, “Yes.”

  She inches out of the change room and says, “I give you the soon-to-be Mrs. Guthrie.” Slowly she inches the curtain across. I step out of the change room.

  The girls gasp, high and loud. Missy covers her mouth with her hand as her eyes go wide.

  “Oh, golly, Lily-Ella that’s absolutely…” Mamma chokes back a sob “…stunning! No one is going to be able to take their eyes off of you.” Tears fall down her face, as she cries unabashedly.

  “Thank you, Mamma. Don’t cry! You’ll start Missy off again!” I swallow back my own tears. I have a feeling Bessie’s made some kind of magic happen for me.

  “It’s too late,” Mamma sobs.

  Sarah laughs; her eyes are glassy too. “Golly, this crying jag is contagious! Lil, I haven’t seen a dress so dazzling before. The way the bias hugs your curves…”

  “Wait.” I hold a finger up. “Do you want to see the back?”

  Missy screeches yes.

  I turn slowly, careful not to step on the train.

  “Sweet Jesus!” Missy yells. “Lil! You’re killing me! Give me the box of tissues!” Sarah laughs and hands her the tissue box. “Lil, I’ve seen a lot of wedding dresses before, but nothing like this. It’s out of this world, stunning! You’re making me yell because I’m so freaking happy!”

  Bessie laughs at Missy. “Happy yelling is a good thing. Lil, are you ready to see yourself?”

  “Yes, I am!”

  The girls gather behind me as Bessie wheels over a mirror that’s covered with a sheet.

  “OK, one, two, three.” Bessie angles the mirror to my height, and pulls down the sheet.

  My heart skips a beat as I take in the sight of myself in the mirror. The dress looks every inch as stunning as it feels. The beads along the front blink at me like friends. The satin shimmers as I touch it again, my hands drawn to the silky feel. “Bessie…” I can’t form words. The girl in the mirror doesn’t look like me. She’s been replaced with a blond-haired girl draped in a creamy satin vision, her cheeks are flushed, and her blue eyes bright with happiness.

  The girls giggle behind me. “Goddess, right?” Missy says.

  “I’m completely besotted by it. Thank you, Bessie.” I turn to her. “I knew it would be amazing, but this is just…”

  “Ravishing?” Sarah adds. “Spectacular? Captivating? I can keep going.”

  I laugh. “Yes, all of those.”

  Bessie smoothes down her own dress. “I’m glad you like it, Lil.”

  “I love it. I don’t want to take it off. It’s not only the look of it, it’s the way it feels.” What I don’t say is how different it is from my first wedding dress, which was all puffy sleeves, a voluminous frou-frou affair. This gown, being cut on the bias, accentuates my country-girl curves in a way that makes me feel beautiful. I can’t wait to lock eyes with Damon as I enter the church, and walk to him, to my future.

  Mamma dabs at her eyes. “Bessie, sometimes I think you should be in Paris, or Milan, or one of those fashion capitals, not stuck here in Ashford, but I’m mighty glad you are. You’ve made my daughter’s wedding day even more perfect.”

  Bessie smiles. “I wouldn’t last five minutes in a big town. But thank you, it was my pleasure. It’s not often I get to make a bridal gown, so when I do it’s extra fun for me.”

  Sarah says, “Let’s take a few photos. Maybe CeeCee might like to see them?”

  “Aww, that’s lovely,” Mamma says as Sarah pulls out her phone.

  The girls smooth out the small train, and I beam, for once happy to be photographed.

  “Right,” I say once they’ve snapped away. “Let’s see you girls in your bridesmaid dresses!”

  Chapter Nine

  Two days

  The next morning, I wake an hour before my alarm. It’s dark out and the wind is so fierce the shutters shake and woo as if there’s an eerie presence outside. I know it’s only my worry over CeeCee that’s making me feel uneasy. I creep from under the covers so I don’t wake Damon. I’d spent the better half of the night trying to call her but her phone went straight to voicemail.

  In the pitch-black room, I fumble for some clothes as quietly as I can. It’s too early for Damon to wake, and he has his bachelor party tonight and will probably be out much later than me. I’ll be with the girls, having our movie marathon, and make-up trial ay Missy’s house. I scrawl him a quick note to let him know I’ve gone in to work early.

  Ten minutes later, I’m showered and dressed and race to my truck; the cold outside steals the air from my lungs. It seems every winter gets that little bit more frozen, and I’m careful not to slip on the fresh snowfall. The truck door makes an almighty creak as I pull it open and I wince, hoping I haven’t woken Damon up. Though the truck doing its usual three-minute warm-up to start will wake up anyone in the vicinity who’s not a deep sleeper.

  “Come on.” I push the accelerator and try to cajole the motor to roar into life. I turn the heat up, but it comes out in a frosty cloud until the motor warms.

  Finally, it decides to start, and I reverse out, thinking I may as well have walked by the time it’s taken to get the truck to comply. Driving at a snail’s pace, I focus on the road, lest I suddenly slip and lose control.

  I chug down the street, wiping the inside of the windscreen as I go. The main street is sleepy with no one about; as I drive closer the lights from the Gingerbread Café shine out. She’s there. I knew she would be. When something’s eating at CeeCee she bakes. We both do.

  I park around back, and go inside. “Cee?” The furious clicking of computer keys travels from the office. It’s the only space in the café that doesn’t get the warmth from the fire. I shrug into my coat in the chilly room. “What’re you doing?” I peek over her shoulder. “Is that your matron of honor speech?”

  She stops and swivels on the chair to face me. “Yeah, Lil. Kinda difficult to express how I feel about y’all in just a few pages.” Tears spill down her sweet brown face.

  I crouch down to her level. “They don’t look like happy tears, Cee.”

  She gives me a sad smile that almost breaks my heart in two. “They ain’t, they surely ain’t.”

  My stomach drops. “Go on, I’m listening.”

  She nods, and takes a deep breath. Her hands shake so she clasps them together. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to see you in your dress yesterday.”

  I wave her away. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll see it on the day.” I realize in our excitement we’d forgotten to text her the photos of us in our dresses yesterday.

  A sob escapes her. “That’s just it, Lil. I might not see you in it at all.”

  “What? Why?”

  “It’s Janey. He…they…”

  I uselessly pat CeeCee’s leg, wishing I knew what to do or to say.

  “The doctors say there ain’t…there…ain’t nothin’ more they can do for Janey.” Her face falls; as she is wracked with sobs and fresh tears spill. I’m at a loss of how to help her. My mind gropes for words that won’t form. I try so hard to keep it together for CeeCee’s benefit.

  “My best friend…my longest friend is coming home. Coming back to Ashford to say her goodbyes.”

  “Oh, Cee.” My fight to stay reserved for her crumbles and my eyes fill with unshed tears.

  She shakes her head, and again I notice how much smaller she seems. Her grief is somehow making her fold in on herself.

  I grapple with the right words. “You need to be with Janey. Nothing else matters right now.” I can’t imagine getting married without CeeCee there. It wouldn’t feel right, as if a piece of me were missing, but I know that Janey needs her. And that’s what friendship is. Letting go, when you so desperately want to clutch on.

  She looks up, and cracks a half-hearted smile. “You a good girl, Lil. Always have been.”

  “So…when’s Janey coming home?”

  CeeCee takes a long shuddery breath. “Tomorrow. They say…” her voice takes on a slight ed
ge “…that she has a week, like she’s planning some holiday or some such. I hate the way they guess like that…a week, almost like we should mark it on the calendar. How’d they even know such a thing? What about if we want more than a week? What if she ain’t ready to go yet? They never think o’ that, do they? What gives them the right to flounce around healthy as can be and put a number on someone’s life? It ain’t right.”

  “They don’t know. How could they?”

  “I know what the comin’ days are gonna be like, Lil. I know from when Curtis passed on.” She pauses, expels a shaky breath. “It brings it all back, and I know I need to find strength somewhere in here—” she taps her heart “—for Janey. I don’t wanna tumble into that dark place again.”

  I move to hug her. She’s dusty with flour, and smells like cinnamon. “Strength, Cee? You got it in spades. Strength is being there when it’s hard. And helping out when your heart is breaking. And you’ve been there every step of the way for Janey. Not just now, but a whole lifetime. No question it’s going to be a dark time. But we’ll all be here for you, and Janey. And Walt. He’s sure going to need a friend like you, Cee.”

  When CeeCee’s husband Curtis died, she barricaded herself in her house. No one saw her for weeks after the funeral. It was as if she just stopped living. She didn’t answer her phone, or her door. Stopped going to church. I’d only just opened up the café — it was so new all I sold back then were gingerbread men, and instant coffee. I wasn’t making a dime. In fact I was losing money. But I knew CeeCee needed a reason to wake up every day. So I went and dragged her out of her house, and insisted she help me at the café. It wasn’t long before she learned to smile again. And in the midst of it all, I made a friend I’ll cherish for ever.

  “Lil, I’m just…I’m every kind o’ sad. How you gonna cope here all alone? What about the wedding? What if I can’t make it?”

  The thought of CeeCee missing my wedding makes my heart seize but it’s nowhere near as important as being with Janey. “You never know, Cee — what if you can make it? What if Janey’s doing better than expected? And if not, then I’ll be more proud knowing you’re with Janey.”

  “I know, you like a daughter to me, that’s all. It’d be like missing my own kid’s wedding. But we’ll see, we surely will, cause, no matter what they say, I ain’t giving up on my friend just yet. The good Lord performed miracles before, and there’s still time to hope.”

  I nod sagely, knowing that deep down CeeCee knows what’s coming but holds onto a tiny thread of ‘what if?’.

  “What about the café, Lil? How you gonna manage?”

  “Easy. I’m sure I’ll have plenty of helpers.” Once everyone finds out Janey’s back and CeeCee’s gone to care for her, folk around here will be lining up to give me a hand. It’s the way things are done in Ashford. If you fall there’ll be someone to lift you. “And if all else fails, I’ll ask Mamma. She’s already ruined the wedding cake — there’s not much else she can do surely?”

  “I’m gonna stow away our good pots and pans.”

  I smile. “Good idea. And maybe we’ll hide the blender, and anything else she might be able to blow up.”

  We giggle at that. So Mamma’s a little on the clumsy side — probably because she’s always talking to someone and forgets what she’s meant to be doing.

  “Why don’t you go on home, Cee? Take a break. You’re going to need—”

  She cuts me off abruptly. “I don’t need to sit there and dwell on it alone, Lil. I want to be here with you.”

  I bite the inside of my lip to stop myself crying. “Well, OK.”

  She hoists herself up from the chair. “There ain’t nothing for it except a bit of baking,” she says, resolute.

  We embrace in the small office, and I promise myself I’ll do all I can to be there for CeeCee over the coming days. “So tell me all about that dress o’ yours…” CeeCee says as we head out front to find some comfort in baking.

  Later that evening, we’re all gathered around Missy’s kitchen bench, giggling like schoolgirls as she attempts to make up my face so I can choose what colors suit me best for the big day. Then we intend to sloth out for our chick-flick marathon.

  By now Damon will be gambling up a storm with his friends at his casino-themed bachelor party. I smile, thinking of him trying to perfect his poker face. I’d know instantly if he had a bad hand. That little wrinkle near his mouth would deepen.

  “Stop blinking, Lil!”

  “I can’t help it!” I squirm backwards. “It feels like you’re gluing my eyelashes together.”

  “Listen to her! Being tortured by a mascara wand.” Missy shakes her head, and cups my chin, trying to stop me from moving. It’s difficult not to blink while she’s batting at my eyelashes.

  Sarah and CeeCee move to Missy’s red leather sofas to chat about their latest bonk-buster reads. In light of what’s coming for CeeCee I think tonight is just what she needs to revive her soul for the sadness approaching.

  Mamma sits on a stool next to me and pushes her face close to mine. “What?” I say, trying not to wiggle as Missy continues torturing me.

  “What, aren’t I allowed to gawk at my own daughter?”

  “It’s the way you’re doing it. It doesn’t suit me, does it?”

  Even though I asked Missy to go light with the make-up, it feels as if it’s been trowelled on.

  “It certainly does suit you,” Mamma says. “If only you’d stop pulling those faces.”

  Missy stands back to survey me. “Hmm.” She steps forward and dabs at my lower eyelashes with the brush, and says, “There. Done.”

  “Well, let’s see.”

  Missy holds the round mirror to her belly, “Girls, you see it first — what do you think? More rouge?”

  Sarah bounds up from the sofa first. “Wow, what a transformation. No, no more rouge.”

  CeeCee stands and snaps a photo. “That’s going on Spacebook. Stop fussing.” She slaps my hand away as I go to fumble with my eyelashes.

  “Missy,” Mamma says, “you’re an artist. You made that blank canvas into something spectacular.”

  I roll my eyes. “Blank canvas, geez.”

  “Well, you know what I mean.”

  “Let me see!” I say, excited.

  “Don’t touch your curls!” Missy yelps. She spent the better part of an hour wrapping locks of my hair around rollers.

  “No.” Missy laughs and puts the mirror face down on the bench. “Let me finish your hair first.”

  I groan. “Just one little peep?”

  She laughs and hands me the mirror. My eyes made-up look bigger somehow, and brighter. Missy used a special technique to contour my cheekbones, which takes away some of the fullness in my face. My lips are a natural pink with a little gloss to make them shine. “Geez, Missy, I don’t look like this when I put make-up on myself.”

  “You’re welcome,” she says with a huge smile. “I am so jealous of your long eyelashes it kills me when you don’t even appreciate them. Totally wasted on you.”

  I laugh. “Maybe not. Maybe I will start wearing gloop. I can’t believe it…”

  “Let’s unwind the rollers and finish your hair. You’re seriously going to be the best-looking bride I’ve ever seen.”

  “I’m dizzy with all these compliments.”

  “Get used to it,” Missy says. “You’re going to be showered with them soon.”

  I glance over at CeeCee, who’s suddenly quiet, staring off into the distance. She’s going to tell the girls about Janey tonight, but she was worried it’d cast a pall over the evening. I reassured her that they’d want to know, and being together whether we’re laughing or crying is all that matters.

  Chapter Ten

  One day

  The café seems lifeless without CeeCee’s company. She came in early this morning to tidy up a few loose ends, but I sent her on her way with a basket of Christmas sweets, and a hamper I filled with ham and cheeses and fresh bread. I thought I’d d
rop fresh provisions at their front door each day so none of them have to leave Janey’s side. I only wish there were something I could do to bring that light back into CeeCee’s eyes. And make Janey miraculously better as well.

  It was tough saying goodbye to CeeCee. Knowing what she’s going to face. And sweet Janey home to say goodbye. This town won’t be as bright without her. Gloom settles over me as I think of what their family is going through.

  Mamma flutters around the café and tries to help but has the worst butterfingers I’ve ever seen. The day before the wedding and I’ve still got so much to do, including making another wedding cake, after the display-fridge disaster. My bridal party is coming in for the morning tea we’d planned to welcome Olivia. And now she’s not even going to attend. While Damon and I are back on track, it seems as though everything else has fallen apart.

  Taking a deep breath, I reach for a pencil, and decide to make a to-do list rather than let my mind spin with reminders.

  Mamma ambles over, frowning. “What have I done this time?” she asks, holding what’s supposed to be a red velvet cake with raspberry frosting, but instead looks like a science experiment gone wrong. For some reason she’s smothered it with blue icing, which has run with the red, making a deep purple ooze.

  “Did you follow the recipe? Why did you cover it in blue?”

  “To make it pop. And of course I followed the recipe, Lily-Ella, but when Mary-Rose came in and I got to talking, well, I forget exactly what stage I was up to, so I took a guess. It’ll be all right, won’t it? What if I cover the icing with blueberries?”

  It looks like a ‘baking gone bad’ after shot. “Have you tasted it?”

  She tilts her head. “You know I haven’t, Lil. Look at it. Does it look like there’s a slice missing to you?”

  It’s hard to say whether there’s a slice missing, as it doesn’t resemble a cake as much as an erupting volcano. “Not even blueberries can disguise that, Mamma. Throw it in the bin and start over. And this time tick the ingredients as you go.”