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“Don’t tell me what you think until you’ve had at least three bites. I need a well-rounded opinion.” I debated making them cookie of the week at work next week, and Sebastian was basically my one-man focus group. Unlike Jasmine, I knew he’d tell me if he didn’t like it. Sebastian was incapable of lying to protect someone’s feelings. While it annoyed the hell out of me when I met him, it was quickly becoming one of my favorite things about him.
We walked to the car, and Sebastian slid into the driver’s side, placing his cookie on the center console.
“Okay, what if you added coconut? I used to get these protein homemade protein bars at this bakery in Concord, and they were amazing because the coconut added texture,” he explained.
I nodded, “Okay, so you mean like shredded coconut?” I asked, digging a small notepad out of my purse.
“Exactly,” Sebastian said as I jotted it down.
“Thank you!” I said.
“I’m really excited about my new job as a cookie taste-tester. That was my dream job when I was five.”
“No way, my dream job when I was five was a baker!”
Sebastian laughed. “I guess we’re the perfect match. I reached over and grabbed Sebastian’s hand.
We pulled into the parking lot of Evette’s half an hour later. I could see my mother through the front window. She wore a pale mint top and high-waisted trousers with a cream-colored cardigan tied around her shoulders. As we approached the door, I noticed she wasn’t frowning.
“Rebecca, darling!” she gushed. I was about to wonder who or what possessed her when I saw the owner of Evette’s standing behind her. Unlike most people, my mother lived for public displays of affection. She was rarely this affectionate with me when we were alone.
“Hello, dear,” Evette said. She looked like a grandmother from a storybook. She couldn’t have been taller than 4’11, and her large blue eyes were framed by round, wire glasses. There was a blue tint to her silver hair. She grinned warmly, offering up her hand. I shook it enthusiastically. Then she moved on to Sebastian.
“I’m so glad you chose me to make your wedding cake. I love working on weddings! I love when baked goods can be an expression of, well, love,” she gushed. I noticed she had a slight British accent. She was precious. I immediately wanted to be her friend. I decided to focus on the good things—Evette and Sebastian—and ignore my mother for the rest of the day. She would not ruin this for me, no matter how hard she tried.
“It’s our pleasure,” I said, smiling graciously.
Evette gestured toward a small, round yellow table, “Go ahead and sit down, and I’ll bring out the first sample. You wanted the low-fat angel cake with cool whip frosting, yes?”
I stuttered as I sat down, and my mother answered for me, “Yes, exactly. That and the fruit cake.”
“Fruit cake? Who likes fruit cake?” Sebastian whispered, reaching under the table to squeeze my hand.
“Yes. Is there anything else you’d like to try?” Evette asked.
“Do you have red velvet cake?” Sebastian and I asked in unison. I shot him a surprised look.
“It’s my favorite cake,” he said nonchalantly.
“Mine too. With cream cheese frosting?”
“You know it.”
“Excellent choices. I’ll grab that, too. Let me know if you think of anything else.” Evette said warmly. She walked back into the kitchen.
My mother settled into the chair beside me and grimaced. I could feel the disdain radiating off her in waves.
“Red velvet is so fatty,” she whined.
“You only get married once, right? Might as well live a little!” Sebastian quipped. For the first time, my mother regarded him with the disdain she usually reserved for me. Sebastian didn’t even blink.
Evette returned carrying three paper boats full of cake samples and placed one in front of each of us.
“Okay, so from left to right, it’s angel food, fruit cake, and red velvet,” Evette said, pointing to each slice.
I grabbed a forkful of the angel food cake to appease my mother. The frosting was watery and bland, but I could tell the cake was good.
Evette knew what she was doing. It pained me that she had to put up with my mother’s ridiculous demands.
