Weekend Writing Warriors: Anti-Cupids (Go Ahead–Bake My Day)

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This week’s eight is a couple paragraphs down from last week’s.  During those skipped paragraphs, Viv strong-armed convinced Bibi, the determined wedding cake consultant at The Elegant Crumb, into combining cake and filling flavors that both the bride and groom might be able to stomach.

Jack is impressed.


“Thank you,” said Viv. “While we’re waiting, please feel free to continue your fascinating discussion over the significance of pink sugar doves versus pink rhododendrons.” The sunglasses went back on.

Bibi didn’t frown—Jack thought she’d probably had something snipped to prevent the possibility—but the corners of her pink frosted lips twitched down. “They’re star clusters.”

Kirsten’s sister shrugged. “Not my problem.”

Jack didn’t know whether to salute or applaud, so he handed her the mocha sample tray.


I spent some time reading about wedding blunders and bloopers this week, trying to figure out what kind of problems Viv and Jack will be trying to fix over the next five months, and let me tell you, I’m so glad the only thing that happened to us—besides a pushy wedding photographer’s wife, whose fictionalized antics you will be seeing later—was my veil catching fire at the reception.  While I was wearing it.  Which won’t be happening to Kirsten.