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Monica’s smile lights up her whole face. “Oh, yes,” she whispers on a nervous sigh.
Although I shouldn’t delight in her nervousness, it’s hard not to considering she’s usually the most self-confident woman I know.
Chuckling, we slowly move down the stairs and outside to where the wedding guests have been seated. I can’t stop my eyes from glancing around; looking for the blonde head of the woman I’m in love with. Disappointment sits heavily in my chest when I don’t see any sign of her.
Monica has told me a million and one times what I’m supposed to do today, which is just as well, considering my mind is elsewhere during the wedding ceremony, and before I know it, the happy couple are pronounced, husband and wife. A lump in my chest catches me off guard as I watch my sister beaming up at her new husband, who looks just as in love with her as she is him. The doubts I had about him disappear in this moment when I realize he really does love her.
I follow them at a slower pace, my eyes wandering over the guests in hope that I’ll spot the one woman who should be here with me today, but isn’t.
Refusing to let my disappointment cloud my sister’s wedding, I smile at all the right moments, and let my sister pull me toward the marquee where the wedding meal is being held.
Monica gasps, turning to look at me, and then back toward the side of the room where a large wedding cake is situated. At least that is what I think it’s supposed to be.
“What happened to my cake?” Monica whispers, her voice filled with tears.
Her new husband whispers in her ear while I’m trying to reconcile Sofia with the confectionary mess in front of my eyes. It doesn’t seem like Sofia’s style. She’s too classy for a rumbled mess. The burgundy flowers covering the cake are large and immediately make me think of a funeral rather than a wedding—maybe a cake for a Halloween party, but certainly not a wedding cake. “You’ve seen the cake,” my mother says, joining us. “Isn’t it’s amazing?” She gushes. “When Sofia let you down a friend of mine stepped in. I think she’s done an amazing job.”
All I hear is Sofia as I turn and face the woman who gave birth to me but has never been a true mother. “What did you say about Sofia?”
“I let you down.”
I turn and relief rushes through me when Sofia is standing before me, until I notice her distress and without giving her a choice, I pull her into my arms. “Whatever it is, we’ll handle it together.” I kiss the top of her head and breathe in the subtle flowery scent of Sofia.
“The cake I made was destroyed,” she whispers against my chest. “Last night someone got into the bakery and smashed the cake into pieces.”
What is she talking about? Something isn’t right, and I have a feeling in my stomach that it all has something to do with my mother. She must have known about Sofia’s cake in order to have the one her friend has made here on time for the wedding.
Cupping Sofia’s tear stained face in my hands, I ask, “Who else apart from your boss, knew what happened to your cake?”
Sofia shakes her head. “No one. I only found out a few hours ago. I just didn’t want to ruin the ceremony by telling Monica beforehand.” Her eyes flicker to my right as she notices the ugly cake where hers should have been sitting. “You have a cake? How?”
“That’s what I want to know.” I keep Sofia in the shelter of my arms and turn to face my mother. Monica faces her also with her hands on her hips.
“What have you done?” Monica accuses our mother. “Did you ruin Sofia’s cake, my wedding cake, so you could display a cake made by your friend? Something you’ve wanted all along.”
Mother stays silent.
“Tell me!” Monica hisses.
Mother goes red with anger. “Of course I arranged for the cake. Brian is a professional pastry chef to the stars.”
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“It’s hideous mother.” Monica seethes. “I’ve seen the cake Sofia had made and it was an elegant four-tiered masterpiece. The fact that you could purposely set out to ruin not only Sofia’s work but our wedding is wrong and hateful.”
“You should be grateful!” Mother snaps. “I was thinking of you.”
“Like hell you were,” I say, my anger building. “If you had been thinking about Monica, then Sofia’s creation would be sitting where that,” I point, “is right now.”
“Get rid of it.” Monica glares defiance on her face, a look I know all too well. “I’d rather have no cake than that thing.”
“You can’t ask him to remove his cake.” Mother looks appalled.
It takes a few seconds of Monica’s eyes begging me to do something for me to snag a waiter. “Get some help and remove that cake to the main house. I’ll arrange for someone to transfer it to the retirement village in town.” I shrug and turn to Sofia. “Someone might as well enjoy it, even though I’m tempted to dump it in the trash.”
“I like that it will be donated,” Monica says. “Now, myself and my husband are going to enjoy the rest of our wedding.”
I smile and place a gentle teasing kiss to Sofia’s lips. “Please don’t cry. I love you, and I’m so damn sorry this has happened to you.”
