1809 words (7 minute read)

Chapter 2

Getting Buried in Vegas

By Stephanie Bryant

Chapter 2

In the morning, Katherine went in to work at six in the morning, about an hour later than normal. But she already knew her schedule for the day-- two birthdays due for pickup at noon, but nothing major. Her creative talents were not really needed on the birthday cakes-- the assistant Joe could easily handle it. But she had to stand over Joe's shoulder when it came to any lettering. She had never really determined if Joe was dyslexic, illiterate, or just obstinate, but he consistently misspelled every major event or greeting. "Birthday" became "Brithday." "Anniversary" never had the required number of n's (and sometimes, the right number of a's). Congratulations was always spelled with a d, which was cute for graduation cakes, but not for baby showers.

Katherine had once seen him sign his own name Jeo, and had bit her lip to keep from teasing him about it. Even now, she often thought of him as Geo, the wonder assistant.

For all his failings with the letters on the outside of cakes, Joe was a whiz when it came to the insides. His buttercreams were creamier than cream. His chocolate cakes left women gasping in post chocgasmic bliss. He knew the secret ways of cake flour and eggs like nobody's business, and if Katherine was ever going to have a wedding cake made, it would be by Joe.

She paused on that thought. As of last night, she was going to have a wedding cake made. Her own. And Joe could do it, easily-- there were no letters to screw up for a wedding.

She looked down at the little engagement ring, unfamiliar on her left hand. The band was a little loose and the diamond slid around to face her palm. She smiled to herself-- that was going to take some getting used to!

She dug into the bag of frosting mix and started measuring out what she'd need for today's cakes. Both birthdays were for-- She paused, eyeing two cake boxes on the counter.

"Joe?" She pointed at the boxes. "What are those?"

Joe looked up from the sink where he was pre-washing a set of dirty pans. He tugged a white ear bud out of his left ear. Tinny noise escaped from the ear bud speaker as he did so, but he ignored it. "Cakes," he replied.

"Yes, I can see that-- did you do them?"

"Yup." He turned back toward the sink, reaching a hand up to put the ear bud back in.

Katherine looked at her watch, then at the clock on the wall of the bakery. "When?"

"This morning-- I couldn't sleep, so I came in early. I had a bitchen idea for the Miller cake--"

Katherine went over to the cake boxes. She flipped open the pink cardboard on the top cake. It was a plain white confection inside, but Joe had decorated it with swirls of blue and yellow and a skyline--

"Joe, is that Van Gogh?"

"Huh?"

"This cake. Is this Starry Starry Night?"

"Oh, I dunno. I saw it on a website and liked it."

This wasn't the Millers' cake, though. This was a birthday cake for Arthur McAbee, who was turning fifty and whose wife had planned a surprise over-the-hill party for him.

"It's a work of art," Katherine said.

"Really? I thought it was good, but--"

"No, I mean literally. It's a famous painting by Vincent Van Gogh. Uhh..... and it's absolutely gorgeous, Joe. But I should call Mrs. McAbee to make sure it's what they want."

"Check the Miller cake while you're at it, then," Joe said, tucking the ear bud into his ear.

Katherine did, and almost dropped both cakes as she leaped back, recoiling in horror. "What the hell is that?"

"You said the Miller kid was having a Fear Factor birthday, right?" Joe replied, laughing.

The "cake" was set in a plastic pan and appeared to be crumbled gravel. A few lumps half-buried in the gravel looked suspicious enough, but the little serving scoop--

"It's a litter box?"

"Yeah!" Joe grinned at her. "Look, the kid's 14, right? They'll totally dig it, trust me."

Katherine looked at her watch again. It was just after 7. No way could she call the Millers and the McAbees to fix this before they arrived. She checked around for a couple of backup cakes, just in case.

There were four smaller cakes in the display case, and she pulled the largest two out and set them in the back cooler. If she couldn't reach them in time, she was fairly confident they could make something suitable out of these. Photo cakes or... whatever.

She flipped the cardboard boxes closed and carefully moved each one to the refrigerator. They were beautiful cakes, though-- she hoped Joe had taken a picture before boxing them up.

The phone rang. Katherine picked it up.

"Steinmann's Bakery, Delicious Delights for your Special Occasion. How can I help you today?"

"Hello, is this, uh, Katherine Earlywine?" The voice sounded like she was reading her name off of a piece of paper.

Katherine groaned inwardly. Pineapple Bride. Actually, Pineapple Mother-of-the-Bride, in this case.

"Yes, this is Katherine. How can I help you today?" Larry Steinmann, the owner, was a stickler for the "proactive customer service attitude."

"This is Millie Prescott, Priscilla's mom? We have a Hawaiian-themed wedding in June?"

"Yes, of course, Mrs. Prescott. I remember you-- and Priscilla," she added, almost a little too late. She reached for a pen and the pad of paper they kept next to the phone for messages and phone orders.

"Prissy wanted to know about the pineapples...."

"Um, what about them, Mrs. Prescott?"

"Oh, you can call me Millie," the voice on the phone said.

Not if you were the last person on Earth, Katherine thought.

"The pineapples?"

"Oh, yes. Will they be real?"

Katherine resisted--strongly-- the urge to reply that no, the pineapples would be imaginary. They would not, in fact, exist. They would not be on, in, or around the cake. They would send out minions to destroy all pineapples all over the world, obliterate them from the planet, so that there would be no pineapples, anywhere--

"Um, yes. We'll use real pineapples in the cake, and--"

"Oh, we can't do that."

"What?"

"The cake. It can't have real pineapple. Prissy's sister is allergic."

Katherine gasped.

"What is it?" Mrs. Prescott asked.

"Oh... nothing... I just had a sudden stabbing pain..."

"So, can we do that?"

"Um.... You want the inside of the cake to be pineapple, right?"

"Right-- but not real pineapple."

"Um.... Do you want it artificially flavored?"

"Oh, heavens no-- that stuff is poison!"

Katherine sighed. "Mrs. Prescott, there's no way to make a pineapple cake without either pineapple, or artificial pineapple flavoring. Now, we can make a--"

"But she wants pineapple!" Mrs. Prescott wailed.

"Yes, as I was saying, we can make a cake that looks like a pineapple, with white or yellow or buttercreme or even chocolate insides..."

"I'll have to call you back."

"You do that," Katherine said as the woman abruptly hung up the phone.

A pineapple-less pineapple wedding cake? Bad enough that they wanted the bizarre, but now they wanted the impossible?

Katherine walked over to Joe and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned.

"Just so I'm absolutely certain-- there's no way you can make a pineapple cake without either pineapple or artificial flavoring, right?"

Joe cocked his head, thinking. Katherine stared at him. This seemed like a ridiculous question, but she loved that he was taking it seriously.

"How about an apple?"

Katherine blinked. "What?"

"An apple. Can they have apples?"

"I-- I don't know."

"Because there's an apple that has a pineapple-y flavor to it, which we're kind of lucky-- there's a local guy who grows them. Or there's the sugar apple, which isn't technically an apple. We could use either one of those, and bolster it up with a little coconut. Most people expect pineapple to go with coconut, so you can kind of fool their taste buds if you--"

"You're a genius," Katherine said. "You know that, right?"

"Oh, yeah. But just about food," he replied. He glanced up at the clock. "Which reminds me, I have to take off at noon."

"Oh?"

"Parole meeting."

"Oh!" Katherine's eyes widened. "I didn't realize--"

"Yeah. I was kind of into meth for a few years there. That's actually why I got into baking, you know?"

"I had no idea-- that's pretty impressive, Joe." She felt suddenly awkward, armed with this very personal information. "I'm getting married," she blurted out.

Joe looked at her for a long moment, and she thrust her hand upwards. His face broke into a wide grin. "That's so awesome! Oh, man-- congratulations!" He reached out and gave her a big hug. "This is a big day for both of us, huh? My last day of parole, your first day of wedding planning!"

"Uh, yeah." Katherine suppressed a shudder. Wedding planning.

It wasn't that she disliked weddings. They were her bread and butter, the reason Steinmann had hired a "bakery artist" with an MFA rather than a 2-day certificate cake decorator, after all.

But she had also seen the kind of stress women put themselves through when planning a wedding. Invitations, guest lists, bridal showers, wedding parties...

Oh, god. She was suddenly struck with a cold knot of horror in the pit of her stomach.

The wedding party.

She was going to have to call Elsie.

©Stephanie Bryant Getting Buried in Vegas, Chapter 2 Page |