Lucy took the cake out of the oven fifteen minutes early, delicately lifting the pan with flat fingers under a potholder as her lilac nail polish dried. It matched the color of her bridesmaid dress, which was lying on the brown couch in the small living room; a purple flower among a muddy swamp. She put the cake on the counter to let it cool and then ran upstairs to grab her makeup bag and shoes. As she passed her mirror, she saw the pictures of her and her sister in New York City that was taken last fall tucked in at the corner of the frame. Lucy stopped and looked at her sister’s round, young face, then to her folded hands, not yet adorned with an engagement ring, as it was now. Had it really only been eight months since that trip?
Yes, the wedding was soon, Lucy thought, but her sister, Bianca, had always wanted a spring ceremony.
“Why wait?” Bianca had asked her as she picked out Lucy’s and the other bridesmaids’ dresses. “Here,” she said, holding up a catalog, “what do you think of this light purple one?”
Lucy had only met her sister’s fiancé once before the engagement, and only three times after that; the man she was meant to call “brother” by tonight. After gathering her things, she went back downstairs, cursing herself for sleeping in an extra twenty minutes, setting her whole schedule off. The cake batter was rushed, and the cake itself was put into the oven late. Because of this little delay, Lucy was forced to take it out early so she would have time to decorate it before she left. It wasn’t the wedding cake, it was just a desert for the reception, but her sister had insisted that she make one.
“You have such talent when it comes to baking,” Bianca had mused. “You should make a cake for the wedding! Decorate it like the one on display in your bakery, you know, with the sugar pearls.”
Lucy decorated the cake between nervous glances at the clock, moving masterfully along the top and bottom tiers and covering them in pristine white frosting, then going on to add purple accents and the sugar pearls. She knew that she had rushed the entire thing; the batter wasn’t smooth when it went into the oven, and it hadn’t baked long enough, either. A slight sagging could be seen in the middle of the bottom tier, meaning that the center of the cake was undercooked. Still, Lucy knew that she could make it look good; dress it up with flowery icing, put extra purple accents around the middle, and add more pearls to draw attention to the edges of the cake and not the sinking foundation.
After twenty or so minutes of decorating, Lucy finished, her kitchen a mess. The cake looked absolutely beautiful, but Lucy felt strange as she put it into its box, knowing that it’s appearance was just a façade, and that the core of the desert was a mass of sugary adolescence. Lucy packed her car with everything she needed, putting it all in the trunk except for the cake, which she put softly in the passenger seat beside her.
As Lucy drove towards the venue, she imagined where Bianca was; probably in her dressing room waiting for her sister, dressed in pristine white, a purple bouquet waiting for her, a dazzling pearl necklace draped over her shoulders.