Marriage Matters - By Cynthia Ellingsen Page 0,110
wood. Taking a sip of water, she reached for the tres leches. Smooth and creamy, but wow. Super sweet.
A little too sweet.
“Yum,” Chloe cried. Discreetly, she wiped her forehead with her napkin. For some reason, she’d started to sweat.
“Delicious,” June proclaimed.
Ugh. Chloe’s head had really started to pound. Would the carrot cake be lighter than the buttercream? The cream cheese frosting might be heavy. There was also a texture risk. If she felt a carrot or a piece of zucchini in her mouth right now, there was a very real possibility that she might gag.
Reaching for the buttercream, she brought it to her lips and hesitated. “Grandma, what number are you on?”
June looked down at her checklist. “Nine.”
Damn. Chloe was only at eight. Squaring her shoulders, she brought the cake up to her mouth.
“Oh, is that the buttercream?” June chirped. “It’s very rich. Like chewing on a stick of butter.”
Gross. Chloe’s hand shook. She forced herself to bring it to her lips.
“It’s like drinking a Crisco milk shake,” June said. “Like biting through a melted crayon.”
“Ugh.” Chloe dropped the cupcake into the bucket and laid her head on the table. “I can’t do it.” Grabbing for a napkin, she dipped it into the glass of ice water and pressed it against her face.
June cheered. “Say it,” she cried, pounding the table with glee.
Chloe groaned. “You win.”
As June did a little victory dance, Kristine laughed and shook her head. “Told you,” she said. “Age and treachery. Every time.”
June flopped down at the table, fanning herself. “I think I need a salad. I might be in a diabetic coma.”
Flustered, Carolyn jumped to her feet.
“She’s kidding,” Kristine said. “She’s doing just fine.”
“I can’t believe I lost.” Chloe buried her head in her hands. “Our bachelorette party is going to suck.”
June smiled. “Oh, I guess we’ll just see about that.”
Fifty-one
After the cake tasting, Chloe stopped by her apartment to grab some clothes and to see Whiskers. When Chloe started dating Geoff, she’d bought an automatic food dispenser and a self-cleaning litter, but Whiskers still needed love. It had to be lonely, staying in that apartment without anyone to play with.
Chloe hoped it wasn’t going to be a huge issue when the time came to move her across town. Geoff had already dropped a comment or two about Mary Beth maybe being allergic. Chloe had nodded, saying, “Oh, that would be a shame. I’d hate to live apart from you until Whiskers died.” There was no way she was leaving her cat behind, no matter how perfect Geoff was.
While keying into her apartment, Chloe glanced over at Ben’s door. It seemed pretty quiet and she was disappointed. Still high from all the sugar, she finally felt brave enough to tell him about the engagement.
When she walked in, Whiskers streaked across the room and practically tackled her, purring and rubbing her head up against her leg.
“Hi, baby,” Chloe crooned, rubbing her ears. “Oh, I miss you.”
After giving the cat a thorough rubdown and some snacks, Chloe started going through the huge collection of mail she’d pulled out of the box downstairs. Flipping through the ads, her hands stopped on her Star magazine. Maybe she should stick it under Ben’s door with a note saying, Check out this celebrity wedding. Oh, and did I mention I was getting married?
Chloe’s phone rang. Peering at the caller ID, she said, “Hey, Sally.” For some weird reason, she’d thought it was going to be Ben. “What are you doing?”
“I am so sorry.” Sally’s voice was low. “I am a terrible, awful friend.”
“Why?” Chloe asked, sifting through the rest of her mail. It was so strange to think that, in just a few months, the bills would be for an entirely different home altogether. And, it suddenly dawned on her, it was not likely Geoff would make her responsible for them at all.
“You might want to check on Ben,” Sally said. “I’ve been calling him but—”
Just then, bass boomed through the walls. Whiskers cocked her head, the bell around her neck jingling. This just added another note to the music, which was definitely from the movie Braveheart.
“What’s wrong with him?” Chloe asked, worried. “Is he sick?”
“I got drunk a few days ago and let it slip,” Sally wailed. “That you were engaged.”
“What?” The drums pounded through the wall like a death march. “Sally,” she whispered, as if he could even hear her over that music. “I said don’t tell anyone until I told him.”