Wedding Cake Wishes. Dana Corbit
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in his. “Yeah, good times.”
Trina planted her hands on the edge of the table with a thud. “Stop it, all of you. The last thing Amy needs is for you to be thinking this way, as if she’s not going to be able to do any of things that made her happy. She will be fine, and she doesn’t need any of you naysayers holding her back.”
“But none of us said—” Caroline began, but she cut her words short when her mother frowned her way. She lifted her hands in surrender.
Trina turned back to Logan. “And, Logan Warren, don’t you worry. You’ll have plenty of chances to avoid your mother’s amazing dinners for dates with your blonde-, brunette- or redhead-of-the-week.”
They were laughing at him again, but at least they were laughing.
Trina pressed her hands together as if to signal that the earlier subjects were closed. “Now how did things go at the bakery today?”
Automatically, Logan shot a look at Caroline. She was staring back at him.
Dylan leaned forward and rested his hands on the edge of the table. “Go ahead. Tell us. Was it as bad as the other day? We heard you two were arguing outside the back door. We would have direct quotes, but no one could hear through the steel door.”
“You heard wrong,” Logan grumbled.
“That’s the same story I—” Matthew started, but Caroline cut him off.
“It was pretty quiet today since we had no wedding cake orders this weekend.”
“No weddings on Memorial Day weekend?” Trina said.
Logan looked up in surprise and noted that Caroline had reacted the same way. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one who’d failed to notice they were in the middle of a holiday weekend. They wouldn’t be celebrating the beginning of summer with a cookout this weekend anyway.
Before Caroline could answer for the two of them again, Logan spoke up. “You know how small Markston is. Some weekends Mom has three weddings to bake for and other weekends, none at all.”
“We’re booked for every weekend in June,” Caroline added. “As long as new orders are coming in for fall and not going to Cakes & More instead, we’re fine.”
Scoffing sounds came from around the table.
“That name isn’t spoken aloud around here,” Logan explained. “That place has been a thorn in Mom’s side for the last six years.”
Trina snapped her fingers. “So that was what Amy was trying to tell me at the hospital today. She’s worried about the competition.”
“She doesn’t need to worry,” Logan assured her.
“Oh, she knows that, sweetie. She’s just keeping the business in her thoughts as her brain heals. She’s processing all those memories as she works her way back.”
Works her way back. Trina’s words reverberated through Logan’s thoughts. Had he been praying for his mother’s recovery without really believing it could happen? The question convicted him in a way that even thoughts of his empty seat at all those family dinners hadn’t.
It was difficult for him to imagine his mother entertaining big crowds or running her fast-paced business when so far she hadn’t even mastered her aim for lifting her fork to her mouth, but he couldn’t allow himself to think that way. Who was he to limit his mother’s recovery or God’s ability to heal? Faith was about believing without seeing, and his mother needed them all to believe.
“Is everyone ready for dessert?” Trina asked as she pushed back from the table.
“I am,” Lizzie announced.
The adults just stared at each other. Matthew’s daughter was too young to understand, but the others couldn’t forget that Amy Warren’s scrumptious cakes were a tradition at every Warren-Scott family gathering. Not having them there didn’t feel right. Logan caught Caroline’s gaze, and she gave him a sad smile.
“You know, Mrs. Scott, I’m pretty full already,” Logan told her.
Trina had started toward the kitchen, but she turned back. “Oh, that’s too bad. My brownies are cooling on the counter. I thought we’d put scoops of vanilla ice cream on top.” She paused, resting her knowing gaze on Logan. “Are you sure you’re too full?”
Logan pushed back from the table and patted his belly. “Oh, I think I could fit a little.”
“Good.” Trina took orders from the others and continued into the kitchen.
No one mentioned the cakes or their absence, but Logan was grateful Mrs. Scott hadn’t purchased one of his mother’s desserts for the occasion. She understood that the effort for continuity would have hurt more than it soothed.
Soon they were all gushing over Trina’s brownie dessert and laughing together about old times. That, too, was a Warren-Scott family tradition.
Logan smiled as he thought how much his mother would hate missing tonight. But there would be other times, he was suddenly certain. His mother would even host her infamous dinner parties again. He just knew it. And when she did, he would happily attend every one.
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