bakery lady as her face reddens with embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I just thought I should have a cake that I would want to eat.”
“I understand that,” Mom answers, softening a bit. “But you want all your guests to be able to eat it, too.”
In the end, Laura calms down, and Mom decides on the lemon raspberry cake, hold the raspberries. As we’re leaving, Laura ducks into bathroom to compose herself.
“Is it me?” Mom asks, looking for some commiseration once we’re alone.
“I think it’s both of you. She wants the wedding of her dreams, and you want to be practical. You’re working at cross-purposes.”
My mother purses her lips. “Maybe,” she says wearily. “This really is getting out of hand. If she is so set on having things a certain way, she should just tell me to go jump in a lake.”
I laugh at her. “Like that’s gonna happen.”
She chuckles with me before putting her hand on my arm to make sure she has my full attention. “I have to finalize the numbers this week. Do you think you might bring someone to the wedding?”
She has already asked me this question several times. “No,” I reply, my smile evaporating.
“Are you sure?” Her subtext is Don’t you think you might be dating someone by then? Please, please.
“I’m sure.” The wedding is still nine months away, but I don’t plan to bring anyone. Bryn and Katie think I should scramble and do everything I can to get a date. They think it will be embarrassing for me to show up alone. I disagree, and also--I just don’t care. I’d rather get through the inevitable comments about my single status from well-meaning relatives with a clench-jawed smile, than have to fake an interest in someone so I can have a date for the wedding. I’m more mature than that. At least, I want to be.
My mother knows better than to question me outright about my dating situation. I erected walls there long ago to maintain my sanity.
“Well,” she says, patting my arm, “If you do decide to bring someone at the last minute, I’m sure we could squeeze one more in.”
As I point my car toward home, my cell phone rings. I study the caller ID with anticipation as I’ve done since leaving a message for Mr. Frameless Glasses. But it isn’t him.
“I can’t believe I cried in front of the bakery lady,” Laura says, preempting my hello.
My shoulders are tight with stress, and my stomach is queasy from sugar. “You either have to learn how to work with her or you have to plan your wedding without her,” I say calmly, refusing to be sucked into the wedding vortex.
“What was so wrong with wanting to have a wedding cake with chocolate? I have to please everyone else before I please myself?”
“You know what you have to do if you want keep the peace. It’s just one day.” I’m now readying myself for a response like, But it’s the most important day of my life! If she says that, I intend to hang up. But, thankfully, she doesn’t.
“The florist appointment is next week. I don’t even want to go now,” she says on a sigh.
“You didn’t want to go before.”
She doesn’t reply. I hear the frustration in her silence.
“Jonathan hasn’t chosen anything for the wedding, and he doesn’t seem to mind,” I say.
“He doesn’t care about cake and flowers,” she answers, sounding defeated.
“Because it’s not a big deal,” I say. “It’s getting married to each other and making a life together that matters. You’re losing all perspective. Your cake will be terrific, and the flowers will be beautiful. Mom has great taste. You can’t deny that.”
“There’s nothing wrong with me wanting things a certain way at my own wedding.”
“Of course not, but that’s not how she operates. You need to focus on what’s important and let the rest go. She may be a control freak, but she’s not a bad person. You know she loves you.”
“Hummmph…” is all the response I hear. “What time is the honeymoon?” she asks.
I smile, knowing she’s feeling a little better and hoping that I helped.
It’s Saturday night, and I’m happy to have the entire evening to myself. Well, just me and Tiger. I think about heading to the gym to work off the cake. That might help me feel better or at least make me too tired to think. There is no sign of Jason Randall, yet. Perhaps he won’t return my call. I’m of two minds