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And now, we meet Jack, our other reluctant main character:
Jack had always assumed cake was just a conveyance for frosting, the more the better, but according to Bibi, the blonde-bouffanted, pink-smocked “design consultant” of The Elegant Crumb, a wedding cake was a symbol of a couple’s perfect, romantic, eternal love.
“Does that mean we can’t eat it?” he’d asked, hoping to lighten the mood.
But Kirsten had looked worried, David had looked worried at her worry, and Bibi had given Jack a flirtatiously stern look and launched into a thorough explanation of the spiritual meaning of “eternal” as experienced through the memory of scents and tastes and visual cues.
Which, apparently meant they would be able to eat it, eventually, if Kirsten and David would hurry up and choose.
Someone suddenly moved past him, sweeping several pale pink napkins onto the floor and apologizing in a low female voice for tripping over his foot.
Kirsten looked up. “You’re late.”
“I’m not late for next Tuesday,” the woman said, stealing the sunglasses on top of Kirsten’s head and shoving them into her own nose.
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Viv has arrived! Let the cake tasting begin!
In case you’re wondering about logistics, Jack, Kirsten, and David are sitting on two pink-striped, adjacent loveseats, with a low table in front of them, holding the sample trays and those poor, pale pink napkins. This was brilliantly described in the previous paragraph, of course, but oh, well.
I tried to find a non-cake photo, for once, but I couldn’t resist this one. It’s gorgeous, but cutting into it might be dangerous . . . assuming there’s actual cake under there at all.
Thanks to everyone who helped me out last week on Viv’s technical writing project—I knew I could count on y’all!
Earful of Cider 