I looked down at the gauzy dress. “It’s my bridesmaid dress. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I thought Englisch clothes were strange, but . . .” she trailed off.
“Yes, I know, I look like a cupcake.”
Charlotte cocked her head. “I was going to say a purple lily pad, but cupcake works.”
I didn’t know which was more insulting, being called a cupcake or a lily pad.
“I can’t stay long to chat. I just ran over to check on the cake before the ceremony.”
Charlotte smiled. “The cake is fine. Cousin Clara and Emily are in the back, putting the last touches on it.”
I gave a sigh of relief. I didn’t know what I’d do if the cake flopped. Juliet was counting on my ability to make a “wondrous cake,” and had told everyone who was coming to the wedding that I was baking it. If it didn’t go well, it would certainly be my last venture into wedding cakes and could affect the reputation of my other sweets, too. If the cake went well, weddings could become a lucrative side business for the shop, with the proximity of the village church. I would always be a candy maker and chocolatier first—like my BFF Cass, I’d gotten my start at JP Chocolates in New York—but I would be willing to continue making cakes for the right price.
“Oh,” Charlotte said. “That new fire extinguisher you ordered for the kitchen was delivered.” She pointed to the large, narrow box behind the counter.
“That’s good news,” I said. “I’ll hang it up after the wedding.”
She nodded, and I stepped into the industrial kitchen. While the front of the shop was rustic, with pine floors and furniture, the kitchen at Swissmen Sweets was all business. It had a white-tile floor, stainless-steel countertops, and industrial-size mixers, refrigerators, and convection ovens. In the middle of the room was a giant, stainless-steel island where we did the majority of our prep work. On top of the island was the cake. It was a four-tier, pink and white, polka-dotted triumph. Charlotte and I had been up half the night icing it because I knew that I wouldn’t have any time on the day of the wedding. Even so, this was the first time I had seen it all together. We had put the marshmallow icing on each tier separately before storing it in the refrigerator for the night because it would never fit in the fridge assembled. But now, with all three layers stacked up, the giant cake stood three and half feet tall. No one at the wedding was going to go without a slice of cake. Pink fondant polka dots decorated it, and a pink fondant ribbon wove around it to the very top, where it was tied into a perfect bow.
It was quirky and elegant, the perfect wedding cake for Aiden’s mother.
The cake was surrounded by large blocks of ice set in plastic tubs. It looked as if it was surrounded by an ice fort.
“It’s like an old-fashioned icebox,” I said.
“It’s not that old-fashioned to us. There are Amish who still keep their food cool in root cellars,” Maami said.
I blinked at her. “Really? I can understand that they wouldn’t have electricity to run appliances, but I would have thought that at least the fridge would be run off a propane generator.”
My grandmother smiled. “That is the case for most, but it’s up to the local bishop to decide what technology a family is allowed to use.”
How well I knew that. Everything in Amish life seemed to come from the bishop’s mandate—from how a woman dressed and where she could work to what technology she could use.
“The cake looks great,” I said, unable to keep a note of relief from my voice. “Are you sure you will be able to get it over to the tent after the services? It’s huge!”
“Do not worry, Bailey,” Maami said. “We have it well in hand. Several men from the district will be carrying the cake over right after the wedding.”
I sighed. “It looks like you have everything under control. I should have expected this.” I tried to smooth the ruffles in the many layers of my dress.
“I’ve never seen a dress like that,” said Emily, our other shop assistant. Emily was close to Charlotte’s age, but she was fully committed to Amish life. She had been baptized into the church years ago and had married a local Christmas tree farmer a few months earlier. She also happened to be Esther Esh’s younger sister. This was one of the many reasons that Esther didn’t care for me. She thought I had stolen Emily from her when I offered her a job at Swissmen Sweets.
But the truth was, I never offered Emily a job. She asked me for one and told me how much she wanted to get out from under the authority of her sister and her brother, Abel. Also, the older Esh siblings hadn’t wanted Emily to marry. In order to have her own life, she had no choice but to leave her brother and sister behind.
“You look like an upside down summer poppy. We have some in our garden at the Christmas tree farm,” Emily said with her customary smile.
I smiled. “So far, I have been compared to a cupcake and a lily pad and now a poppy. Of those three, I will take the poppy. It’s the most appealing.”
Emily smiled sweetly back.
“Don’t you worry for a moment about the cake, Bailey,” Maami said. “We have everything under control. By the time you reach the reception tent, it will be in place, with time to spare.” She glanced at the battery-powered clock on the wall and cocked her head. “Now, shouldn’t you be at the church?”
I glanced over and squeaked. “Got to run. You all need to get to the church, too.”
“We are on our way,” Maami said. “We were just about to lock up when you popped in. Now, go!”
I waved at them and thanked them for taking such great care of the cake. Now I could enjoy the wedding without fear. As the maid of honor and the cake creator, I had taken every precaution I could think of to give Juliet the best possible day. There was no way anything could go wrong now. One mishap at a wedding was to be expected, but that was over and done with when Dylan burned Juliet’s hair. All would be well now, or so I thought.
CHAPTER THREE
“Your shoes are right here,” Cass said and waved at me from the corner of the entry to the church. The wedding guests were filing in, and the guest minister, who would preside over the ceremony, was at the front of the sanctuary. The sound of the organ boomed through the building. I knew that in the middle of the service, Charlotte, who was also an organist, would be playing a hymn. Reverend Brook and Juliet wanted to involve as many people from the congregation and the community as possible.
Aiden, in his powder-blue tuxedo, waited at the door of the church to walk his mother down the aisle. Cass held my arm while I removed my sneakers and put on my heels.
Aiden wove around the guests filing into the church to stand next to us. “Wow.”
It wasn’t the kind of wow you wanted to hear from your significant other. It was the sort of exclamation someone made when they witnessed a car crash.
“She looks like a cotton candy machine exploded, doesn’t she?” Cass smoothed her wrinkle-free dress. She was slim and sleek in her all-black tank dress and bright red heels. Her black and purple hair was perfectly styled and her eyeliner was on point. Don’t tell Cass that you can’t wear black to a wedding. Actually, don’t tell Cass that you can’t wear black anywhere, because that was all she wore.
“Well . . .” Aiden trailed off as if he was dumbstruck by my appearance. Then he said, “It’s the kind of outfit that makes you believe there just might be unicorns out there.”
Cass snorted a laugh.
I finished putting on my heels and let go of Cass’s arm. “I’m pretty sure that was the look your mother was going for.”
“Mission accomplished,” Aiden said with a laugh. “You’re a beautiful lavender and white puff. No matter what you wear, you will always be beautiful to me.”
Cass handed over my bouquet. “Oh my gosh, Bailey, if that doesn’t make you fall over dead in a swoon, you’re a robot.”
I was smiling but wasn’t swooning. “There’s no time to grow weak in the knees. We have a wedding to get to.”
“You’re r
ight,” Aiden said. “We should all head to our posts.”
Cass saluted us and went into the church.
As she found her seat, the last of the guests, including Maami, Charlotte, and Emily, settled into theirs, and Reverend Brook stood at the front of the church with the other pastor, a man with a poor comb-over who might be pushing one hundred. Juliet had told me that the reverend presiding over the ceremony had been the former minister of the church until Reverend Brook took his place twelve years ago. I sure hoped the wedding would begin soon; the old reverend appeared to be on the verge of needing a nap.
The church was packed. It wasn’t often the village minister got married, and it was an open community wedding, which meant that everyone in the village was invited. At least half of the people there were Amish. Reverend Brook was well-respected in the Amish community because he allowed the church building to be used for Amish functions. There wasn’t a single person in Harvest who had a mean word to say about Reverend Brook, and the same went for Juliet. I couldn’t say that about Jethro. People had a lot to say about that little pig. I suppressed a sigh as an usher walked the little bacon bundle over to me on a lavender satin leash.
The wedding party was small, consisting of the bride and groom, Aiden and me, and Jethro.
“You’re taking the pig down?” the usher asked, as if he wasn’t sure I was up to the task.
I waved the bouquet that Cass handed me. “Yep.”
He shook his head, as if it was my funeral. “Get in line. It’s almost time.”
As if on cue, the organist started the wedding march. I wasn’t surprised in the least that Juliet had chosen to go with a classic tune to walk down the aisle. She had been waiting for this day for so long and it was finally here. She would want everything to be perfect. Any bride would.
I looked down at the polka-dotted, potbellied pig. “Let’s do this,” I whispered. “Make Juliet proud. Chin up. Tail high!”
He lifted his head and his tail sprang into action.
Jethro was wearing a lavender satin bow tie for the occasion. Part of my job as the maid of honor was to carry the bouquet, adjust Juliet’s train, and walk Jethro down the aisle. I took the satin leash into my hand. In the pig’s mouth was the handle of a small basket that held the wedding rings. When Juliet had first told me that Jethro would carry the rings in his mouth, I almost fell over. Even with the protection of the tiny basket, the risk of the pig losing the rings was high. However, this was one point of the ceremony on which Juliet refused to budge. Other than Aiden, Jethro was the most important being in Juliet’s life. Of course he had to have a large and important role in the wedding. As Cass said, “Being best bacon wasn’t enough; he had to be the ring bearer, too.”
He stared up at me with his brown eyes as if he understood all my thoughts and turned his attention toward the front of the sanctuary. The little bacon bundle had his game face on, and I was happy to see it.
“Go!” the usher urged in a harsh whisper.
I hesitated, but Jethro took the usher’s words as a command and moved out.
I tripped a little as I doubled my pace to walk beside him.
People smiled and chuckled softly as we made our way down the aisle. Truthfully, we went at a faster clip than was normal for this sort of thing, but I blamed Jethro for that. I liked to think the guests were chuckling at that pig with the lavender bow, but it could just as easily have been my cupcake dress arousing their amusement.
Despite the too-quick pace and my worries over the rings being lost, we made it down the aisle and stood a few feet away from the reverend. Jethro looked up at me.
“That’ll do, pig, that’ll do,” I whispered, quoting from Babe with a smile. It was something I had always wanted to say to Jethro. However, because the little pig was a bit of a troublemaker, the opportunity had never arisen. Apparently, when Juliet needed it the most, the little oinker would come through with his very best behavior. I hoped it would continue through the rest of the ceremony and well into the reception. But I might be pressing my luck to ask for good behavior from Jethro for that long.
The music picked up and the congregation stood as Aiden and Juliet made their way down the aisle. They were a handsome mother and son, and Juliet was radiant. Cass had been right about the pink hat: It was both chic and somehow classic, and with the polka-dotted theme, it somehow managed to tie everything together. Juliet was beaming and couldn’t take her eyes off Reverend Brook. I glanced at the minister’s face and saw that he was watching her intently, too. His expression was happy but far more cautious than Juliet’s, which I immediately dismissed as wedding jitters. No one in Harvest doubted Reverend Brook’s devotion to Juliet Brody.
In front of the church, Aiden kissed his mother on the cheek, and then, much to my relief, he bent down and took the basket of rings from Jethro’s mouth. When he straightened, he winked at me. I blushed.
“Welcome, one and all, to this joyous occasion,” the presiding minister said into the stand-up microphone, but only the wedding party could hear him.
Reverend Brook helped the old minister turn on his mic, and there was a bout of awkward laughter.
“Oh,” the minster laughed. “That is much better. Thank you, Reverend, for helping another man of the cloth in his time in need.” He cleared his throat. “As I was saying, welcome to this joyous occasion of the marriage of Reverend Simon Brook and Juliet Brody. We, as a congregation, have seen their love and respect for each other grow over the last several years. There were whispers before the public announcements that they were together, but they were coy with us. Now, we can celebrate with great happiness their love and felicity in holy union.”
I watched as Juliet and the reverend spoke the traditional vows of marriage. They lit the unity candle, and the ceremony was just about to come to an end when the back doors of the church, which the ushers had closed the moment Juliet was inside, flew open with a bang against the wall.
A woman in a tropical print sundress stomped down the aisle. Her dirty blond hair was tied in a messy bun on the top of her head, her skin pulled taut against her thin cheeks . . . Everyone in the sanctuary froze as she ran down the center aisle.
“Is this the time when you ask if there are any objections to this marriage?” the woman cried. “Don’t you have to ask that?” Her voice was raspy, as if she had smoked most of her life.
The old pastor blinked. “We don’t ask that question any longer. It’s not really up to anyone else if two people should marry.”
“I say they don’t get to be married!” She held her right fist in the air and then pointed at Reverend Brook. “He doesn’t deserve happiness after what he did. Did you tell them, Simon? Did you tell them what you did?”
Reverend Brook paled.
“Please, someone, do something about this disturbance,” the old pastor said.
Aiden handed the minister the little basket that held the rings and waved to someone at the back of the church. Deputy Little, who was in his sheriff’s department uniform, walked down the aisle. “Ma’am?” he began.
All the while, Reverend Brook looked like he was caught in the bright headlights of an oncoming train. All he could do was stare at the woman as if she was a ghost who’d come back to life to haunt him.
Deputy Little held up his hands in the same way I’d seen countless Amish farmers approach a skittish cow or horse. There were no sudden movements in either case. “Ma’am, perhaps this isn’t the best time to discuss whatever grievance you might have with the reverend.”
“The heck you say!”
The woman hadn’t actually cussed, but that didn’t stop the audible gasps heard through the church.
Deputy Little held out a hand. “Now, ma’am, we are going to have to ask you to leave.”
The whole congregation leaned forward, eyes glued to the spectacle. I had to hand it to Deputy Little. He didn’t have a whole lot of experience in hostile situations, as far as I knew, but he was treating this one like a pro.
“You don’t get to ask me to leave. Ask Simon why I’m here. You didn’t tell her about me, did you? What a cruel joke that she will have to find out on her wedding day—or is it a wedding day not to be?” she spat.
“Ma’am,” Deputy Little said. He looked as though he was debating tackling her. I thought that was a bad idea, because the church was crowded and guests were likely to be taken down along with the intruder.
I glanced at Juliet, who stared at the woman openmouthed, as if she couldn’t believe this was happening. My heart hurt for her; I hated the thought that this might be her clearest memory of this special day, a day she had awaited for so long.
“Ma’am,” Deputy Little said again. “Come peacefully out of the church or I will have to arrest you for disturbing the peace.”
She spun around to face him. Her back was toward the front of the sanctuary now. She then turned back to face the wedding party. She held up her fist. “Traitor!” the woman screamed and ran from the room.
After the church door banged closed with a resounding thud, the sanctuary was so quiet, you could hear a horse shake its bridle outside the building. No one moved. No one spoke.
Juliet gripped Reverend Brook’s arm for all she was worth. “Don’t stop. Keep going. Please. The wedding must go on. Please finish it,” she said.
The old pastor blinked at her.
There were tears in Juliet’s eyes. “Please.”
The pastor looked to Reverend Brook, who nodded.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the retired minister said. “You may kiss the bride.”
CHAPTER FOUR
After the ceremony and hundreds of photographs in the front of the church, the wedding party was finally released from what felt like forty days in a photo shoot desert, where Juliet did all she could to get photos of Aiden and me together at the altar. I think she was concerned more about getting those shots than the ones of her and Reverend Brook.
“Who was that?” Cass demanded as she met me at the foot of the church steps when I was finally able to leave the church building. She and I walked arm in arm to the large reception tent in the middle of the village square. “It was like a scene out of a midday soap opera, but with bonnets and buggies.”
Marshmallow Malice Page 2
