Marshmallow Malice

by Amanda Flower

  I knew what she was talking about. It was what everyone at the wedding was whispering about, the woman in the tropical dress who’d called Reverend Brook a traitor. I gave Cass a look.

  She cocked her head. “Come on, you have to admit I’m right about that.”

  I smiled. “It was dramatic.”

  “No kidding. It gives me another story to tell Jean Pierre when I get back home. I swear, he doesn’t believe half the things I tell him about Amish country. Who would? This place is as crazy as New York.”

  It was a fair question and statement. My life had become much more interesting and exciting when I left the Big Apple. Wouldn’t you have thought the opposite was true?

  “Do you know who that woman was?” Cass asked.

  I shook my head. “No idea.”

  “She tried to stop the wedding. That’s heavy stuff. Why would she call Reverend Brook a traitor?”

  I shrugged, as if I wasn’t wondering that exact same thing, which of course I was. It was all I could think about during the wedding party photographs. In the back of my head I prayed and hoped that Juliet hadn’t made some kind of mistake by marrying Reverend Brook. “I guess it doesn’t matter now that Juliet and Reverend Brook are married.”

  She made a face that told me she wasn’t buying my nonchalance about the situation. “Maybe it’s the New Yorker in me, but I don’t think I would have gone through with the ceremony until I had some answers from my husband-to-be. If I was about to marry someone and a guest shouted in front of God and everyone that my almost-husband was a traitor, that would give me pause.”

  “I don’t think that woman was a guest,” I said. “I don’t know who she was, and believe me when I say I went over the guest list with Juliet no less than a hundred times.”

  “So she was a wedding crasher, then. That makes the story even more interesting.” Cass brushed her purple bangs out of her eyes. “I have even more material for Jean Pierre. You know, if Amish country continues to be this interesting, he might just fly out to see it all for himself.”

  “I cannot imagine Jean Pierre in rural Ohio.” I stopped at the edge of the tent.

  “Stranger things have happened,” my best friend mused.

  Across the tent, Reverend Brook and Juliet greeted their guests as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. Juliet beamed at her new husband, but worry nagged at the back of my mind. I had told Cass that it didn’t matter now who the woman was because Juliet had married Reverend Brook, but that wasn’t entirely true. I had a feeling a person who went to the trouble of making a scene at a wedding wouldn’t give up until she got whatever she wanted. But what was it that she wanted? She hadn’t asked for anything in her outburst.

  I shook the uneasy feelings aside and admired the tent. Everything was perfect. Twinkle lights hung from the cloth ceiling, giving the space an ethereal glow inside. Dozens of round tables with pink and white polka-dotted tablecloths surrounded the hardwood dance floor at the center of the tent. Pink and white roses in round vases perched in the middle of each table. Even with all the lovely decorations, my eyes went immediately to the cake. A whoosh of relief went out of me. My creation was at a place of honor by the head table, where Juliet and Reverend Brook would sit. It was perfect. As Maami had promised, the Amish men from her district had delivered it to the tent unharmed.

  Mission accomplished.

  Several guests came over to me and shared their excitement about the wedding, and I did my best to dodge the recurring question as to when Aiden and I were going to get married. It wasn’t something I had an answer to. Both Aiden and I were very focused on our careers at the moment. As second in command at the sheriff’s department under a disgruntled sheriff, Aiden had a lot of responsibility. At the same time, I was trying to grow my business at Swissmen Sweets, plus launch my new cable television show, Bailey’s Amish Sweets, which would premiere in less than two weeks. Even thinking of the show’s premiere made me nervous. I had seen the episode and was proud of it, and it had been well-received by early reviewers, but would anyone watch it? I didn’t know. My producer insisted that there was a place for Amish candy on his channel, Gourmet Television, but I wasn’t so sure.

  We weren’t engaged, but I knew Aiden and I would marry someday. I was almost sure we would, but when was a question that seemed to loom large in the wedding guests’ minds. The other burning question was the identity of the mystery woman in the tropical dress. I didn’t have an answer for that one either.

  As the reception went on, I felt more relaxed about the surprise woman at the ceremony. Surely if she really wanted to make trouble for the new couple, she would have crashed the reception, too.

  Aiden walked over to me. As if he could read my mind, he said, “I asked Deputy Little to keep a lookout for her. I’m not going to let anything else ruin my mother’s day.”

  I didn’t have to ask him who “her” was, and he didn’t have to explain. It was the woman in the tropical dress, of course.

  There was a hard set to his jaw. “My mother gave up so much and did so much for me. I just want her to be happy.”

  When Aiden was small, Juliet had left her alcoholic and abusive first husband, Aiden’s father, in South Carolina. She’d traveled north, trying to get as far away from him as possible, and she’d ended up on the doorstep of Swissmen Sweets in Holmes County, Ohio, where my Amish grandparents had taken in Juliet and her young son. Maami and Daadi let them stay there as long as they needed. I imagined the Amish way of life must have been a shock to Juliet after coming from South Carolina, where there are very few Amish. Even so, she fell in love with the little village of Harvest and the people there. She decided to stay, and when he was an adult, Aiden decided to stay, too, and join the county sheriff’s department.

  Because of this, our families had always been close. At the time, I was a child growing up with my non-Amish parents in Connecticut. I was living a very New England life. I had no idea that my grandparents had people living with them above the candy shop. Maami and Daadi never thought to tell my parents about the Brody family. It wasn’t the Amish way to brag about helping someone. It was just their way to help.

  I learned about my grandparents’ selflessness when I moved to Harvest about a year ago. That’s when I met Aiden for the first time, too. I blushed at the memory. The first time I saw him, I had been so taken aback by his handsome appearance and his kind demeanor that I nearly choked on a piece of chocolate I’d been eating when he came into Swissmen Sweets.

  I touched his cheek. “That makes you the man I fell in love with.”

  He smiled. “Well, that is certainly an added benefit.”

  “There are other benefits, too. You’re an amazing cop and son. It’s hard to find anyone who doesn’t like and respect you.”

  He laughed. “Okay, okay. I’m not in need of that much of a pep talk.”

  Charlotte cleared her throat. She was standing right behind us, and I hadn’t even realized she was there. “Bailey, Juliet would like a photograph with you beside the cake . . .”

  I smiled. “All right.”

  By the time I made it to the cake table, the bride and groom were already there. The photographer, yet another member of the church, was poised and ready to take the shot.

  Juliet held Reverend Brook’s hand. “The cake is beautiful, Bailey. It’s more beautiful than I could ever have dreamed.”

  “Yes, Bailey,” the reverend said solemnly. “Thank you for all you’ve done. We appreciate it.”

  “It was my pleasure,” I said as I set out the large cake knife and two polka-dotted china plates I had found at a consignment shop the next county over. I knew Juliet would love them and I couldn’t resist. “These will be here when we are ready to cut the cake.”

  The cake was beautiful. I had done all that worrying for nothing. My grandmother would have told me that worry was always for nothing and to just trust in God. If I did, all would be well.

  Juliet didn’t disappoint me with her reaction. �
��Aren’t those plates just lovely?” She beamed. “Bailey, you really do think of everything!”

  I smiled for the camera with Juliet and Reverend Brook, and then stepped away so the photographer could take more shots of just them with the cake. Juliet looked blissfully happy. I was so happy for her. No matter what trouble that wedding crasher had wanted to cause, there was nothing that could take the smile off Juliet’s face this afternoon.

  After the photo op, I walked across the tent to stand with Cass again. I smiled as I went. The inside of the tent looked just as Juliet wanted. The colors were lavender, pink, and green. The decorations and dishes set the tone for a country wedding, with burlap-covered Mason jars on every table holding lovely bouquets. But the people at the wedding were the most important piece to Juliet, and at least a third of them were Amish. The difference between the appearance of the Amish in their plain clothes and the English in their summer party dresses and tailored suits was never more striking. Despite those differences, they’d all come together for Juliet and Reverend Brook. I thought that said a lot about the couple, and the community of Harvest as a whole.

  I waved at Millie Fisher, an Amish matchmaker from my grandmother’s district just a little bit younger than my grandmother. She was sitting with her niece and her best friend, Lois. Lois, who had spiky red hair and wore a bright bubble dress, was decidedly not Amish. I hoped when I was Lois’s age I would have the confidence to wear a dress like that.

  Cass stood with me at the edge of the tent and rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m going to have the smallest wedding ever. This was exhausting.”

  “You have any candidates for a groom in mind?” I wiggled my eyebrows.

  She laughed. “You know what it’s like to date in New York or, should I say, not date. All I do there is work.”

  I frowned. This was the first time I had ever heard Cass complain about working too much. Like me, she was a workaholic, and I thought that was what made us such good friends. Neither of us got hurt or upset when the other had to cancel plans if something came up at work. We both had drive and did what we must to get the job done. “You okay?” I asked.

  She glanced at me. “I am. Weddings don’t usually make me feel this way, but it could be because JP Chocolates seems to attract very particular brides.”

  “Bridezillas?” I asked with a smile.

  She grinned. “I don’t mind a bride knowing exactly what she wants. That makes things easier really, but sometimes . . .”

  I chuckled, remembering some of those brides. I knew, too, that Cass was exaggerating. Not all the brides were bad. Just some of them. Honestly, the mothers of the brides were the ones I’d really learned to watch out for.

  The mother-and-son dance was announced, and Aiden and Juliet went to the dance floor.

  “You can always tell if a man is a good guy or not by how he treats his mom,” Cass said. “That’s what my Italian grandmother always said.”

  Then by any estimation, Aiden was a very good guy. Beyond him, I saw several of the Amish guests, including Charlotte and Emily, laughing and talking at a long table. Just past that table, I spotted a bit of tropical fabric. Could it be the woman from the ceremony? I didn’t want to draw attention to her, not even to Cass, in case I was wrong, so I whispered to Cass that I needed to find a restroom and walked across the tent.

  When I stepped out of the opening in the tent, I spotted the newly married reverend talking to the woman in the tropical dress by the gazebo. The woman erratically waved her arms in the air and seemed to teeter on her feet, and Reverend Brook put his fingers to her lips in an attempt to keep her quiet. My best guess was the woman was drunk. It was a wonder that she was still even able to stand upright. From my vantage point I realized she was much younger than I’d first assumed. She was likely closer to my age than Juliet’s. I turned back into the tent to wave Cass over to me for reinforcement. Before I could, I glanced across the dance floor and saw the cake wobble.

  I stared at it. Surely I had imagined the cake moving. I chalked it up to the paranoia I’d felt about the cake all week. There was nothing to worry about now. It was here in one piece and would soon be consumed by the hungry guests.

  The cake wobbled again, and this time more than before. It shook, and dread seeped into my bones as it began to fall.

  “No!” I cried, running as fast as possible toward the cake. I didn’t know what I could do to stop gravity, but I had to try. I lunged the last few feet, arms outstretched in an impressive Superwoman impersonation, hoping to push the cake into place. But I was too late. As the cake toppled onto the grass in a heap, I couldn’t stop my momentum. I tripped over my fluffy dress and fell on top of the cake. I lay in the midst of all that cake and marshmallow icing, wondering how my life had landed me here.

  Jethro came around the side of the cake covered in marshmallow, pink fondant dots, and crumbs of chocolate sponge with a sheepish look on his face, and then he ate a mouthful of cake from my shoulder.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Aiden knelt at my side. “Bailey, can you get up?”

  “It would be really bad if a cake killed her. With all the times she risked her life, that would not be the way she would want to go out,” Cass said.

  I wiped marshmallow from my cheek but only succeeded in pushing it into my hair. That would be a nightmare to get out. “I’m not dead. Can someone help me up?”

  “Aiden, you had better do this. My dress is designer, and I don’t know what a dry cleaner can do with marshmallow,” Cass said.

  Aiden helped me to feet, and I could feel the eyes of everyone in the tent on me.

  Maami and Charlotte appeared at my side. “You go get yourself cleaned up, Bailey,” Maami said. “We can clean up the cake.”

  “Your dress is ruined,” Cass said. “Then again, it’s no great loss. I love you, but now you look like a crushed cupcake.”

  Juliet dropped the hand covering her mouth. “Are you all right, sugar?”

  “I think so . . .” I trailed off when I realized she wasn’t asking me if I was all right. She was asking Jethro. I should have known.

  “Juliet, I’m so sorry,” I said.

  “It’s not your fault,” Aiden’s mother said.

  “I’ll go over to Swissmen Sweets and make up a tray of sweets and candies for the guests. We have plenty to feed everyone,” Emily said.

  Juliet shook her head. “No need. These things happen.” Despite her words, she looked like she might cry.

  “Please,” I said. “Let us do this for you. I feel just awful about the cake.”

  I felt bad about the cake, not just because it was another thing that had gone wrong at Juliet’s dream wedding, but because everyone at Swissmen Sweets had worked so hard on it. Now there would be nothing left, and Reverend Brook and Juliet wouldn’t be able to freeze the top tier to eat on their first anniversary either.

  Juliet sniffled. “Do you have any of those chocolate-covered marshmallows at the shop? Those are my very favorite.”

  “I can bring you a whole tray,” Emily promised and took off.

  Juliet handed a napkin to me. I didn’t know what good that was going to do. I accepted the napkin and tried to wipe icing off my arms, to no avail.

  “Don’t you worry about the cake, Bailey.”

  “Thank you, Juliet. You really are being so understanding,” I said.

  Juliet said with a smile, “I’d give you a hug, but then I would be covered in marshmallow, too.” She smiled sweetly at me one more time, then walked over to her groom, who’d just stepped back into the tent. There was no sign of the woman in the tropical dress.

  “I’ll just run home to clean up,” I said, looking down. “I’ll be back in no time.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Cass said. “I mean, I never thought it was possible to make your bridesmaid dress look worse, but you have done it. That’s quite an achievement.”

  “Do you want me to go with you?” Aiden asked.

  I laughed. “Don’t be
silly. Stay here and enjoy the wedding.”

  “I can drive you home,” Aiden said. “It would make the trip quicker.”

  “And I would ruin the interior of your car.” A piece of fondant fell from my skirt as if to illustrate my point. “I’ll just walk home and be as quick as I can. This is your mother’s day. I don’t want you to miss a moment of the wedding.”

  “It has been rather eventful so far,” he said.

  That was most certainly the truth.

  He glanced at his mother, who was hugging Reverend Brook for comfort. The pastor held onto his new bride, but his forehead was wrinkled in concern. Was it worry over his wife? Or was it guilt over something he had done with the woman in the tropical dress?

  Aiden nodded at my mess of a dress. “I hope you didn’t have any plans to wear that again. It’s safe to say it’s done for.”

  “I wasn’t planning to.” I laughed. “Actually, maybe Jethro did me a favor. Knowing your mother, she would want me to dig it out for a special occasion, like a future anniversary party for her and the reverend. This saves me from staging an unfortunate accident to avoid that.”

  “There is always dry cleaning. Despite what Cass said, the local dry cleaner has been able to work miracles in the past. She got tar out of my uniform . . .”

  “Keep your voice down,” I teased. “You will put the idea in your mother’s head, and I would hate for the dry cleaner to have to wrestle with marshmallow in organza. It would be cruel.”

  Aiden chuckled, and then he became serious. “I could walk you home.” He made one last attempt to accompany me to my house.

  “Stay with your mom. This is her special day and she wants you by her side.”

  “I just worry . . .”

  “Worry about me? Walking through the mean streets of Harvest?” I joked as I shuffled out of the tent.

  “I just can’t stop thinking about that woman who came into the church during the ceremony. I have Deputy Little trying to find out who she is,” Aiden said.