I have a thing for cakes. I really love them. It seems every story I write involves some kind of cake. My novel, Toss the Bride, had a good share of cake scenes.
Up until she rudely moved for something like family reasons, we had an amazing cake maker we called upon for every sort of occasion. Since then, we’ve drifted a bit. But we got back on track for Baby #3’s baptism party. It was a cake by Cakes by Karen and it was fabulous. They also nailed my over-the-phone instructions for “saturated colors/but more of a focus on orange and aqua/hippie-dippie/very poppy.” I mean, could I be any more of a baker’s nightmare? But like I said, they absolutely got it perfectly.
The postscript to this cake is that at 2 a.m. the day of the baptism and party, Baby #2 was rushed to Children’s with a fever that just wouldn’t abate. Diagnosed with pneumonia, she and Jonathan returned home at 5 a.m. Then we were up and dressing, ironing and wrestling the baptismal baby into her heirloom gown for a 10 a.m. service. The sick one was brought to church just to stand up front with her family and then rushed back home. The party was cancelled, of course.
And the cake? Sliced up and given to our church family. A few slices were set aside for us, and we enjoyed them immensely back home.