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plausible reasons why he wasn’t home the nights he transformed into “Alejandro”.
At the beginning, the game felt awkward and silly, but after my second meeting
with Alejandro, I’d begun to get into the freedom he afforded me. We’d both reinvented
ourselves, as it turned out, for the better. The challenge of sticking to the lessons of our
experiment lay ahead of us. Would we succeed? I hoped so. And if not, we’d at least
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proven we knew how to take action should we start to slip into apathy again.
Pretending to cheat on my husband had somehow saved our marriage.
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Epilogue
Flowers cascaded and gushed from every surface that could hold them. Swags of
peach organza draped the walls of the reception hall. I stole over to the cake table to
sneak one last glimpse of my creation. The cream cheese fondant looked like rich velvet
draped over all six floating tiers of the cake. Sprays of gum paste dahlias and
bellflowers in shades of light orange, peach and cream spilled over the edges of each
layer. I’d talked Jane out of the staid fall leaves theme for a September wedding and
matched the flowers in her bouquet. The mass of sugar blossoms had taken me a week
to sculpt. The cake required two days to bake and prep. I assembled it on site without a
single hitch. The final product surprised even me. I’d taken a thousand photos before
the reception started.
“You outdid yourself, hon.” Jane caught me admiring my work.
I felt myself blushing. “Sorry, I just can’t believe I pulled it off.”
She hugged me. “I can. I knew you could do it.”
The clutch of bridesmaids and well-wishers who followed Jane’s every move
caught up with us.
“The cake is simply gorgeous,” one of them gushed.
“Thank you,” Jane replied. “This lady right here made it.”
They turned on me, some with mouths agape and some twittering praise. The
sudden spotlight cowed me.
“Do you have a business card?” a bridesmaid asked.
Hands trembling, I managed to fish out a card from my evening bag. Roberto
pushed me to have them printed once the incorporation papers had been filed. Mom,
Roberto and I made up the partners of Cakes by Sandra.
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A few more women took cards from me. With the referrals from Roberto’s business
contacts, I’d already booked several other occasions—two more weddings, a couple of
birthdays and one anniversary party. Unsure of how busy I wanted to be, I’d kept the
bookings down to one or two a month. The moneymaking side of the business mattered
less to me than the satisfaction of the creative outlet.
The wedding planner swooped in with the groom and herded everyone for the
cake-cutting ceremony. Tears of joy welled in my eyes as I watched two good friends
squish my cake into each other’s faces.
Roberto nuzzled up behind me. “I’m so proud of you, mi amor.”
“Thank you. I love you.”
“I love you too.” He planted a kiss on my cheek.
* * * * *
Danny streaked through the kitchen naked as the day he was born. I laughed and
shook my head. He sang a chorus of “Grammy’s here,” at the top of his lungs.
“Hush, baby, Mommy’s checking messages. Go dry off and put your jammies on,” I
said.
He ran full speed down the hallway chanting, “Jammies on, jammies on.” I envied
his energy.
The week had worn me down a bit, but Roberto and I had decided to keep our date
for tonight despite our mutual fatigue.
I made notes of the voice mails—a couple potential clients and one of Roberto’s
friends. The last message trilled with Jane’s excited voice. She’d made it home safe and
sound—“and sore,” she added—from her month-long honeymoon. I’d call her back
tomorrow to set up a lunch date.
Roberto slid into the kitchen wearing espresso colored slacks and an olive shirt. His
favorite dress shoes peeked out beneath his pants leg cuff.
“Don’t you look sharp?” I said, hanging up the phone.
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“You’re no slouch yourself.” He twirled me around and drank in my Gypsy queen [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]