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“So we’ll all sit down,” Agnes said brightly to cover up her nerves and the gunfire that continued. Damn hunters. “And we’ll taste cake. Palmer, you sit here, and I’ll get another chair?—”
“No, no.” Palmer turned and smiled, a genuine smile that surprised Agnes with its sweetness. “I tagged along and I don’t deserve cake. But I’d like to look at the lawn if you don’t mind.”
Brenda looked up, puzzled. “Why would you want to look at my lawn?—?”
“Not yours,” Evie murmured.
“The lawn?” Agnes said. “Of course I don’t mind.”
Palmer kissed Maria’s cheek. “Pick a winner, darling,” he said, as if by rote.
Maria patted his shoulder. “I already did, baby,” she said, equally without warmth.
That doesn’t sound right, Agnes thought, but her real interest was in the woods where the shots had come from. All she needed was a stray bullet picking off a member of the wedding party, and there’d be hell to pay.
Palmer draped the dress bag over the gazebo rail and wandered off, and Maria sat down and said, “So. Cake. Chocolate raspberry?”
“The cupcakes,” Agnes said, concentrating on the important stuff, since the gunfire seemed to have stopped. “I know that’s your favorite, Maria, but the cake has to be strong enough to support the fondant, and that one’s pretty delicate. It’d be wonderful served with raspberry sauce at the rehearsal dinner, though. The raspberry sauce is in the silver bowl. The heart-shaped cakes are Italian cream cake and the round ones are pound cake, which is the only kind I’m positive will hold up the fondant. The square ones are a coconut pound cake that I’m trying out. I think it might work if you’re afraid plain pound cake is too boring, but I’m warning you now, I’m not an expert cake decorator, so the stronger the cake you give me to work with, the better chance you have of getting something that makes it through the reception.” Agnes picked up a plate.
“I have to confess that I am concerned that the house isn’t painted yet,” Brenda said as Agnes put cakes on the first plate, and Agnes flinched.
“It will be.” Agnes handed the plate to Maria. “Bride first.” Maria handed the plate to Evie. “Absolutely not. Mother of the groom first.”
Evie accepted the plate. “Thank you, my dear. You have such lovely manners.”
“Because if the house won’t be ready—” Brenda began.
“It will be.” Agnes plopped cake on a second plate and then shoved that plate at Brenda, wondering what her problem was.
Brenda frowned at the plate. “Now is this the china you’ll be using for the wedding, sugar?”
“No,” Agnes said, distracted again. “Taylor’s got china on order to stock his catering kitchen in the barn, and we’ll be using that.”
Brenda shook her head. “There’s an awful lot that isn’t in place —”
“It will all be here,” Agnes said firmly. “The china, the house, the cake, the flowers, everything. Which reminds me, I tried calling the florist this morning to double-check on the delivery times, but I couldn’t get through. That’s not like Maisie. Is she sick?”
“Oh, Maisie.” Brenda took the plate, shaking her head. “Poor old Maisie, always did have more boobs than brains, bless her heart.” She forked up a piece of the Italian cream cake, taking care not to drop any crumbs on her own significant cleavage. “You’re not going to believe this. She canceled.”
Agnes stopped filling the third plate, and Evie and Maria froze, too. “What?”
Brenda bit into the cream cake, hesitated, and shook her head. “Oh, I think that’s just a touch too sweet, Agnes, but then it’s too soft for your fondant anyway. What? Oh, Maisie. Well, you know how disorganized she is, incompetent really. She just felt overwhelmed by the whole thing and canceled.” She tasted the pound cake and pursed her perfect lips, although her forehead did not wrinkle. “I think the pound cake may be too dry. And you know you’ll have to cover it with the fondant at least the day before, probably two. So if it’s dry now ...” She shook her head and then met Agnes’s eyes. “What? Oh, Maisie? Yes. I’m afraid you’ll have to do the flowers, too.”
Agnes felt her temper rise, took a deep breath, and put the last cake on the plate. This isn’t like Brenda, Brenda’s on my side, I’ll just stay calm and find out what happened later, everything will be fine. She turned to Maria, whose jaw was set, but who did not look surprised. “I’ll fix it, you’ll have flowers,” she said quietly, while beside her Evie looked grim.
Very good, Agnes. You control your anger; your anger does not control you.
The morning’s not over yet, Dr. Garvin.
Agnes turned and smiled at the table. “Look at this, I’ve been so anxious to get you all cake, I didn’t serve drinks. What have I been thinking?”
Evie picked up the lemonade pitcher and began to pour. “This coconut pound cake is just delicious, Agnes, you have outdone yourself. Lemonade, anyone? Or sweet tea?”
“You know, the chef at the country club does a nice cake,” Brenda said, taking a glass of lemonade.
“This chocolate raspberry cake is really good,” Maria said, straightening.
She had two bright spots of color on her cheeks and fire in her eye, and Agnes forgot Brenda’s betrayal for a moment because Maria was looking a lot like her mother. Lisa Livia may have grown up in the South, but she was descended from a long line of dons and hitmen and Brenda. And, Agnes thought with a sinking heart, Maria was descended from a long line of dons and hitmen and Brenda and Lisa Livia.
