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Daughters Of The Bride(83)

By:Susan Mallery


Courtney felt the emotional slap hit her cheek. So all was not forgiven, or even understood. “Is Neil joining us?”

“No. He was called away to a board meeting. He’s selling his company.”

“I thought he had already sold it.”

“The deal is taking a while.”

And it required a board meeting? Courtney thought he owned a couple of video game/pizza places. Would that really require a board of directors? Not anything they were going to talk about now.

They walked around to the side entrance to the house. Gracie opened the door as they approached. She was a pretty blonde, who greeted them with a friendly smile.

“I’m so excited about your cake!” She ushered them into her kitchen.

Gracie’s kitchen was large, with high ceilings and what seemed like miles of counter space. The decor was simple—white, painted cabinets, pale gray-and-white marble countertops and stainless-steel appliances. What could have seemed cold and impersonal was instead the perfect, plain backdrop for the extraordinary cakes being assembled.

There was a four-tier extravaganza partially covered in lavender-and-blue flowers. Another cake had tiny butterflies, poised to take flight. There were photographs on the walls and drawings leaning up against the subway-tile backsplash. In the corner was a pint-size table, littered with crayons and coloring books.

Gracie led them to a long table with eight chairs in a corner of the room. A sketch pad sat at one end. At the other were plates with slices of cake and a pot of coffee.

“I’ve been thinking about your colors,” Gracie said when they were seated. “And the fact that you and Neil can’t decide between vanilla and chocolate for your cake. So what about something like this?”

She opened the sketch pad and showed them a picture of a slice of cake. The inside was a checkerboard of vanilla and chocolate. The squares lined up perfectly.

Maggie’s tense expression relaxed. “It’s beautiful. Can you really do that?”

“Sure. It’s actually not that difficult. There are special pans and once everything gets rotated...” Gracie waved her hand. “You don’t want to hear the details, but yes, it can be done and it’s really lovely.”

She collected two plates and forks. Courtney saw that while the icing was yellow, the cake was the checkerboard pattern.

“Have a taste and tell me what you think.”

Courtney took a bite. The flavors combined perfectly. “It’s delicious,” she said. “I’ve never seen anything like this, and there have been a lot of wedding cakes at the hotel.”

“The hotel you’re practically running?” Maggie asked, her voice sharp.

Courtney looked at her. “Mom, what do you think of Gracie’s cake?”

Maggie shrugged and took a tiny bite. “It’s fine.”

Gracie glanced between them. “I have other flavors for you to try. Chocolate and vanilla, of course, and a really nice spice cake that’s popular.”

Maggie put down her plate. “This is fine.”

Courtney felt herself getting tense. Obviously, this was the wrong time for the appointment. “We should reschedule,” she began.

“Why?” Her mother turned to Gracie. “We’re here. If we don’t decide, we will have wasted your time. As I said, this cake is fine.”

“All right,” Gracie said cautiously. “Based on what you and I talked about on the phone, I’ve been looking at something relatively simple for the frosting. There’s a technique called scratching. It creates a texture on the cake that’s very beautiful.”

She showed them several pictures of cakes with icing that looked as if it had been put on in rows and then partially smoothed.

“I would do a cascade of flowers from the top down one side.” She put a sketch of a four-layer cake on the table. “This is fairly true to size and will serve three hundred easily. I believe that was the number you mentioned?”

Maggie glanced down at the sketch. “Is that the color?”

“The pale pink? It is if you like it. I would do the flowers in the colors you see. They would range from very pale to deep pink. Not magenta, though. Just true pinks.”

“I’ll take it. Thank you for your time.” Maggie rose and walked to the door. Before Courtney could stop her, she was gone.

“I’m so sorry,” Courtney told Gracie. “We’re fighting. But I guess you figured that out.”

Gracie smiled patiently. “It’s okay. You’d be amazed by what I’ve seen happen at these appointments. It’s never boring, that’s for sure.”

“The cake really is beautiful. I’ll make sure it’s what she wants and get back to you by the end of the week. Does that work?”