Chapter 22
22
I t was Valentine’s Day, and the long-awaited Blair-Fitzpatrick wedding was taking place in the Christmas chapel next to the town’s main square, and it seemed like half the town would be attending. The weather, so often unpredictable this time of year, had dropped just over an inch of fresh snow on Jingle Junction, as if decorating the town in bridal white. Next to the chapel, the park’s large gazebo was lit up, beautiful and bright, and so was the towering Christmas tree, covered top to bottom in sparkling red and pink hearts. The glow could be seen from every window in the church and the attached reception hall.
Even the annual Valentine’s Day parade was beautiful, if a bit quirky this year. I watched the marching band and the floats go by from the warmth of the bakery’s front room, enjoying the spectacle along with several other people who knew my plate glass window would be a great viewing area. When the last float trundled by, a flatbed trailer pulled by Max on his tractor and decorated with crepe paper and dozens of pink and white balloons, I couldn’t help but laugh. Apparently, my sister Joy hadn’t had the best of luck in finding an appropriate Cupid, so she’d conscripted my stepbrother, Nick. I had no idea what she must’ve promised him, or how she threatened him, to get him to wear skin-colored long underwear with little wings and fake diaper pinned over the top. He was carrying a plastic bow and arrow and tossing wrapped candies along the way.
Sitting at the back of the float was Deke, bundled up in a thick coat and wool hat, flinging candy with one hand while he kept a tight grip on Cupcake’s leash with the other. Poor, long-suffering Cupcake. Someone had decided to put a headdress on the patient doggie, with antenna-type springs topped with sequined red hearts swaying above his ears. Luckily, he didn’t seem to mind.
With just hours to go before Junie was set to walk down the aisle, I set the last of the sugar flowers on the wedding cake and stepped back to survey the final results. Doing my best to swallow back the lump that clogged my throat, I told myself I did the best I could with what I had. I’d tried to space the sugar flowers out around the edges far enough apart to mask the missing pieces, yet not too far apart so anyone would notice.
Social media hopes and dreams aside, it had to be perfect.
Or at least as good as I could make it under difficult circumstances.
The cake was tall and classic and gorgeous, but not as gorgeous as it could have been had I had all my sugar flowers. I fretted a bit, despite knowing I should just have been happy at this point that the lace hadn’t been damaged. Replacing that would have been impossible. I’d been putting Junie off on checking out the final product, but I knew I couldn’t keep her at bay any longer.
It was time for the bride to see her cake.
“Ivy?”
I whirled around, surprised to see Connor standing in the doorway. “Oh, hello.”
“Can I come in?” His eyes never left me, ignoring the cake I’d just put together.
I let out a shaky laugh. “It’s a communal kitchen in a communal chapel, Connor. Of course you can come in.”
He walked over to the table, pausing next to me as I nervously adjusted a piece of the royal lace. He was carrying a box with his store name on the top, then set the box next to the cake before stuffing his hands in his pockets.
“What’s this?”
“I know how long sugar flowers take to make and dry.” He took a long hard look at the cake as he spoke, though he didn’t smile or show any kind of emotion, and that made worry bloom inside me.
Did he like it? Did I care if he didn’t? Yes, yes, I did. Someone of his caliber knew talent when he saw it. And if he wasn’t impressed, had I just destroyed any chance I had to prove myself?
Connor didn’t seem to notice my state of mind, speaking again as he slowly circled the cake. “There’s no way you were able to replace them all last night.” He cleared his throat as he finished his observations and finally met my eyes again. “It’s beautiful, Ivy. Absolutely beautiful.”
I couldn’t help but grin at his praise. “Thank you. It’s not quite what I expected, but I’m hoping the wedding couple won’t mind.”
“I don’t want to upset you even more,” he said, “or overstep, but I brought you these in case you’d like to use them.”
I set the smoother down on the table with shaking fingers, now very confused and in an internal turmoil that had my heart thudding in painful beats. I reached out to slip the lid from his box, then gasped aloud when I saw what was inside.
“Oh, Connor. They’re absolutely beautiful!” Pink heart-shaped chocolates etched in gold foil sat in twenty- four individual molds, perfectly formed and glistening. They reminded me of some type of exquisite jewels, fit for a princess.
“They have the same pink champagne inside that guests are getting,” he said, sounding hesitant. I looked up again, surprised at his tone, to find his expression soft but anxious.
Wait, he was anxious? That was my department. “So, they’ll match the cake. That’s perfect, Connor.”
His worry faded as he nodded. “Yes, they should match. I edged these in gold because I know pink, gold, and cream are the bride’s colors.”
I reached out and touched his wrist. “Would you help me choose where to put them?”
Connor smiled… and the world lit up when he did. “Of course.”
We spent the next few minutes discussing placement and balance, and when we were finally finished with adding Connor’s creations, I had to admit, his additions added the ‘something’ I’d been missing. It was now the cake of the century! I couldn’t be prouder of how it turned out, even if it had won first place on one of those TV baking shows, and I’d gotten one of the judge’s coveted handshakes.
“Thank you,” I whispered, my heart full of happiness. “It’s exactly what the cake needed. You came through, and I really appreciate it.”
“I’m grateful you let me help,” he said. “I didn’t want you to think I was trying to steal your moment. Think of it as my way to make amends for Angus being a bit of a jerk.” I shook my head while he waved off my denial. “Let me finish, please, Ivy. It’s important I say this to you.” He smiled down at me. “It still doesn’t fix what Angus and I did, but it’s a start.” He stepped closer and touched my shoulder. “I was thinking—”
“Make way! Bride coming through!”
I turned just in time to see Junie Blair hurrying toward me, dressed in a robe and with two large pink rollers on top of her hair. “I must see the cake!” she cried as she hurried inside the chapel’s kitchen.
Her mouth dropped open in obvious delight, which went a long way in softening the irritation I felt at yet again losing the moment with Connor to someone else. I slid my gaze to Connor, and I could tell he, too, was disappointed at being interrupted.
“Oh, Ivy,” she breathed, eyes wide and bright. “It’s absolutely gorgeous ! It’s exactly what I wanted. You’re just the best! You really outdid yourself this time.”
I smiled at Junie as she exclaimed over the lace and sugar flowers, and admired the multiple tiers of perfection. “And the chocolates!” She spun on us both with a huge smile. “How in the world did you get them to match what the guests are getting?”
“That was Connor.” I turned to look at him, to share the compliment.
Only to realize that, at some point in her gushing examination of the cake, Connor had left the kitchen.
Without taking a hint of credit.