Wedding Cake Wishes. Dana Corbit
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.
Chapter Four
The pews were only half-full at Community Church of Markston that Sunday morning, reminding Caroline again that it was a holiday weekend. As odd as it felt for her to be sitting in her mother’s church, she would have felt just as out of place at her own church in Chicago as seldom as she’d darkened its doors lately.
With Jenna and Dylan on one side of her and Haley and Lizzie on the other, Caroline couldn’t resist peeking farther down the pew to her mother. She fully expected one of her mother’s knowing stares, cueing her in that Trina had guessed about her sporadic church attendance. She hadn’t exactly given up her faith, but she’d had a hard time squeezing church into her Sunday work schedule.
But Trina wasn’t paying attention to her at all, her focus on the doors at the rear of the sanctuary. Suddenly, it made sense. Mrs. Warren had always been annoyed by Dylan and Logan’s continual tardiness at church. Jenna had reformed Dylan, but Logan was probably still playing beat-the-church-bell. In Amy’s absence, Trina must have seen it as her duty to censure Logan.
At the front of the sanctuary, Matthew sat in his music minister’s seat, his focus on the back door, as well.
“He’s not going to make it,” Jenna said, glancing at her watch.
“I should have called him before I left my apartment,” Dylan murmured.
Jenna chuckled. “Don’t worry. My mom will make him toe the line.”
“Like you did me?” He took her hand.
Caroline shifted in her seat. She’d never noticed before how many family jokes were directed at Logan. About small things from his Casanova ways to his job as “Ranger Logan,” but they all came with mild disapproval for his choices. Had he taken on the role of the family comedian to deflect some of that?
Her sudden temptation to tell both of their families to knock it off made her smile. Logan would not appreciate her defending him. He didn’t need her to be his champion now any more than he’d needed her to step in when he’d been dealing with that difficult customer. She understood that he was fine on his own, but that didn’t keep her from watching the door and rooting for him to show up tout de suite.
Just as the organist played the first notes of the processional music, Logan breezed through the door, a weathered leather Bible tucked under his arm. Although most of the men in the sanctuary wore polo shirts and slacks, Logan was dressed like it was Easter Sunday. He’d paired his navy suit with a crisp white shirt and a blue tie with geometric designs in the exact green shade of his eyes.
“What?” Logan asked in a low voice as he came to the end of the pew. His left eyebrow lifted in question, that same side of his mouth rising, as well. “Good morning, everyone.”
He might have said everyone, but he was looking right at Caroline. Only then did she realize she’d been staring at him with her mouth hanging open like a landing pad for flies. She clicked her teeth shut and shifted again. It didn’t matter how amazing he looked; she had no excuse for staring. But a glance around told her she wasn’t the only one who’d noticed the man who wore a business suit with the same ease as he sported jeans and hiking boots.
Logan didn’t pay attention to the fuss as he waved to Matthew up on the podium and scooted into the pew next to Caroline’s mother. As Trina reached over and patted Logan’s arm, Caroline couldn’t help thinking