Brides and Bouquets At Cedarwood Lodge: The perfect romance to curl up with in 2018!. Rebecca Raisin
potbelly belched and we huddled closer, once again I was struck by how lucky I was to be surrounded by people who wanted Cedarwood to succeed as much as I did. As we chomped through Georges’ Christmas cake pops, we made final plans for the expo and allocated jobs. I just hoped this bridal expo would go off without a hitch!
“Wake up! Wake up!” I dashed into Amory’s suite and shook her awake.
“Oh my god, you witch,” she groaned and pulled a pillow across her face. Amory was a fan of late nights and long sleep-ins, and generally needed two extra shot lattes before she could converse with any sort of sense, but I’d grown to love the early mornings at Cedarwood, and was forcibly making her wake up and see what she was missing out on.
Seeing the sunrise so spectacularly above the mountain range, brightening the murky winter dawns, was something else – a glorious way to start the day, and as much as she complained Amory was slowly coming round to the routine too.
Today my aunt was joining us for breakfast to discuss her part in the expo and was waiting downstairs. Everyone in the baking business seemed to thrive being up before the sun and my aunt was no different, arriving on our doorstep laden with boxes filled with tasty donut treats. The only problem was that Aunt Bessie wouldn’t let me open them without Amory.
As I glanced around Amory’s room, it looked like she’d been burgled, the room ransacked. Clothes were draped over every surface, make-up was scattered over the desk and the top of the chest of drawers, and scattered high heels were death traps waiting for her to trip over.
“This room is a disgrace!” I picked up clothes, making a pile on the end of the bed. She had no respect for her things, mostly designer labels, they were tossed on the floor like she thought nothing of them.
“Yes, Mom.” She saluted with her eyes firmly closed. “I’ll change my wicked ways when I’m dead.”
“I can’t actually be in here without tidying up. Maybe I’m more like my mom than I thought. Or maybe it’s just that you’re like a messy teenager and anyone would tidy lest they trip and fall out the window. Death by mess,” I joked. Again this is where we differed. I liked things neat and orderly, and Amory was more chaotic. I lined up her heels in the cupboard and folded her clothes away as I waited for her to wake up a little more before I accosted her again. “You’ll thank me when you don’t wear odd shoes out by mistake. Seriously, how can you find anything?” For someone so put together, she was a closet slob.
“Listen, fun police, stop whining and tell me what time it is?” She rolled to her side, and finally opened her eyes.
“Six-thirty. Time enough to trudge up the mountain and take in the sunrise…” I hid a smile, knowing there was no way I’d ever go back up that mountain without Kai forcing me. I missed him, and his Zen philosophy, even if it meant exercise was involved. And there was no way Amory would either unless she needed to get signal on her phone.
“The only thing I climb is the corporate ladder, so get out, unless you have coffee!”
I went to the door where I’d left a cup of steaming coffee, and brandished it to her majesty. She swiped it like I knew she would, and I laughed as she practically inhaled it in one gulp. “And… it’s your lucky day, Aunt Bessie is here, and with her are some truly delectable donuts, so if you hurry there may be a couple left. But only if you hurry.”
“Please tell me she has cookies and cream donuts?” Amory said as she ripped the covers back. I had taken Amory to Puft the first morning she was in Evergreen and ever since she’d been obsessed with the party-in-your-mouth morsels.
“I can’t say what flavor, you’ll have to drag your sorry self downstairs.”
With my aunt visiting so early to chat about work it brought forward the pre-event buzz; I was a little hyper with excitement. I raced back downstairs to the warmth of the kitchen where she sat cradling a cup of coffee, and munching her way through an almond cronut, her latest venture, a croissant-donut hybrid that sold out as quickly as she could bake them.
She flashed me a grin. “Did you convince her?”
“I think you convinced her. When she heard the word ‘donut’ things suddenly changed, and the coffee definitely helped.”
Aunt Bessie laughed, and yet her face didn’t wrinkle at all. Even at such an ungodly hour of the morning she was fully made-up, her bleached blonde hair set, and her body encased in her signature form-fitting ensemble. She was a breath of fresh air, and glamourous to boot.
I plucked a cronut from the pile, and bit into the pillowy softness. Between mouthfuls I said, “You all set for the expo? Do you need a hand with anything?”
“Nope, I’m all set. I’ve got my neighbor Miranda coming in to help me bake and a whole host of ideas for recreating those stuffy wedding cakes into delectable donut towers. Now, down to business. You know how glamorous dessert buffet tables can look? Well I’m thinking of doing one of those. It’s going to look spectacular. From Boston cremes, to French cullers, candy-cane flavored, and gingerbread custard, I’ll have every base covered. Donuts can be gourmet, you know, and this is my chance to prove it.”
“I know,” I said, hiding a smile at her suddenly solemn tone. My aunt took her donuts very seriously indeed, and I knew the idea of a donut buffet instead of a formal dessert would be tempting for our brides-to-be. Everyone wanted something different and donuts were making a comeback; better, bigger and bolder than ever in the foodie world. Especially the creative samples my aunt baked. They were more like art on a plate, or in some cases on a milkshake – where she stacked donuts on top, layered with whipped cream and custard, and candy floss to finish. Using vibrant icing, it was a kaleidoscope of colors, flavors and textures. “Sounds like you have everything under control, Aunt Bessie.”
The water pipes rattled upstairs, the usual accompaniment to Amory’s morning shower and a sign I had my aunt alone for a few more minutes, at least.
I stood to refill our coffee cups and smiled, it was a comfort to have family around again. I’d missed it in New York. Mom hadn’t visited me there, and Aunt Bessie had only come once, claiming the crush of people made her nervous. The big city was a huge culture shock when you came from a town as small as Evergreen.
Returning to my seat I reached out for her hand, “Thank you so much for helping out with the expo. I really appreciate all the time and effort you’ve had to put in. It means a lot to me.”
Lifting a shoulder, Aunt Bessie squeezed my hand. “Well of course, what are family for?”
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