Save the Cake - Sample Chapters

Chapter 4

The guest bathroom was outside of the dining room, down the hallway leading to the family library. It wasn’t a long walk, and I did need to use the restroom after all.

What I needed, however, was enough distance from the dining table to get myself ready to leave.

First I checked the messages on my phone. Two of them were from my brother, reminding me of the orders that were due for the next two days. Two were from Pappy, who was worried about the south-bound traffic going home and wanted to make sure I was going home safe.

I knew I could count on the men in my life.

For years, “I have to call back Pappy” had always been my go-to excuse for giving people their privacy. During those first few dates between Hazel and Vinny, I would excuse myself by pretending to look at my pager for messages telling me to call back. Now, with cell phones being the norm, I still found myself using the excuse to duck out so I could leave people alone with their thoughts.

Then again, those words have taken on a new meaning in the last few years.

Hazel, Vinny, Denise, and I are the same age right now: 28. I should be too old to let my family check up on me on the phone, but my parents weren’t getting any younger and they could really use the company at home.

Come to think of it, I wasn’t getting any younger, either. The basic shapes were still there – the almond eyes, the oval face – but the eyelids have gotten heavier lately, possibly from the lack of sleep, and my cheeks seemed to have shrunk over the years. It was a good thing none of us in the family had bad skin, but I could probably use a better moisturizer if I was going to start looking tired at my age. 

The regulars at the bakery would always mention that I looked almost like Lola Carmen, judging by the photographs of her placed around our bakery. “You’re so pretty, like her,” they would say; I knew exactly what they meant, and I knew they meant no harm. But my grandmother was a widow who baked cakes for a living to support her children, and I could only wish for her grace, and the warm smiles she shared with every customer. And we all knew she never entertained another suitor until the day she died.

That tied in with my reasons for not believing in destiny: I would never want to live in a world where romance would get in the way of my baking.

 Only when I had finished my business in the bathroom did I find Hazel waiting for me in the hallway.

“You never told me why you cut your hair,” she declared pointedly.

“Spur of the moment,” I answered. “I thought I could use the change of pace.”

She shrugged, her mouth curling up into a tight bow. “Looks good on you, by the way.”

“Gee, thanks?”

“You’re welcome. By the way, I think you should date my cousin.” 

Here we go again: another attempt to set me up with the single guy. “I don’t know him, okay?”

“I know Sean,” she declared. “He doesn’t always flirt.”

“Neither do I.”

That was a lie. Hazel has seen me hit on a guy before, more than once. Probably while drunk. 

“Can’t you see? You both lived in New York, you’re both working on this wedding, and neither of you are in a relationship. It’s perfect!”

“Hello, do you remember the last time you tried to set me up with a guy?”

“I did not know that Vinny’s co-worker would turn out to be such a jerk, okay?”

“Girl, I was given a lecture after I turned him down for a nightcap. A lecture, for crying out loud, about how I should be grateful I was dating him because he was one of the few – quote-unquote – ‘good’ guys left in the universe.”