Darby digs into the chocolate cake and says, “Holy shit, this is good.”
Cosette frowns at her coarse language but ignores her. Instead, she turns to my future husband. “Have you tried this one, Pavel?” Cosette asks, gently touching his arm and beaming up at him. God, she wants his approval so badly, it’s pathetic.
“I don’t like sweets,” Pavel says, reiterating what I’ve already heard him say before. Cosette seems taken aback by his answer, but she quickly schools her features and flutters her eyelashes at him. “I’ll let Savina decide whatshe wants,” he then adds.
“But she’ll probably pick something everyone hates,” Cosette protests, and I have to hold Darby back from going after my stepmother across the table.
“Oh, uh, maybe the both of you can come up with some kind of agreement then?” Pavel offers with a forced smile, clearly trying to placate the tense situation.
“Yeah, and maybe pigs will fly and hell will freeze over,” Darby mutters, and I burst out laughing.
Cosette glares at me, and I instantly shut up. “Well, we’ll just have to try every single one until we can come to a unanimous decision,” my stepmother says, and I inwardly groan. Of course, she would make even eating cake miserable and taxing.
After finishing up round one and starting on round two, which consists of raspberry lemon, German chocolate and Danish layer cake, Cosette announces, “I, for one, love the raspberry lemon cake. I think you should choose that one, Savina.”
Raspberry lemon is the only cake I have yet to try, and there is good reason for that. But before I can utter a word about it, Dimitri says from the other end of the table, “Savina is allergic to raspberries.” It’s the first time he’s spoken since we arrived, and his voice sounds rough and raw.
I’m so taken aback by his statement and clear concern for my well-being that I’m rendered speechless.How the hell does he know that I’m allergic to raspberries?I can count on maybe one hand the number of people who actually know that. In fact, I don’t even know if Darby knows that, and we tell each other everything.
“Wait. You are?” Darby asks me, confirming my suspicions.
I turn and glance over at Dimitri, meeting his stare. Blue on green. He holds my gaze for a moment before breaking it and returning his attention to the cake on his plate. He moves his fork around, barely eating anything, but just making it seem like he is. I know he doesn’t want to be here any more than I do, and that makes me feel bad for him. After everything he’s done for me, he shouldn’t have to sit here and suffer with the rest of us. I just haveto wonder why he bothered coming in the first place?Maybe he just wanted to be here to support his brother,I think to myself. Yeah, that has to be it. I try not to think too far into it, because figuring Dimitri out is an impossible mission, which I, unfortunately, discovered the hard way a long time ago.
“Oh, that’s right, I guess Savinaisallergic to them,” Cosette says slowly, trying to save face even though she clearly did not remember that fact. “Well, that narrows some of these choices down then, doesn’t it?” she says with a frown.
I know how much Cosette loves raspberries; and when I was a kid, she sent me to the hospital quite a few times because of her obsession with that particular fruit and putting it in everything she could. I like to think she didn’t do it on purpose; but when it comes to my stepmother, I really can’t put anything past her.
“The chocolate cake is delicious,” I say before scooping up another forkful to take another bite of the delicious dessert.
“Not too much, Savina,” my stepmother warns. “You know what they always say — a touch on the lips, a lifetime on the hips,” she singsongs.
“Oh, give it a break, Cosette,” Darby pipes up. “Let the girl eat her damn cake in peace.”
Cosette is aghast and swiftly clutches her pearls, and I have to stop from laughing out loud.Damn it.Well, I guess I lost that bet. Not that I really thought I’d win. If Cosette is anything, it’s that she’s completely predictable.
“I’ll Venmo it to you,” I tell Darby, who is sitting beside me and smiling from ear to ear.
“What is Venmo?” Cosette asks, trying to sound out the last word like it’s foreign on her tongue.
“Nothing,” Darby and I say at the same time.
The owner brings out the last of the cake samples, and I’m so happy we’re almost done here. I try the rest until I’m so overloaded with sugar that I can’t possibly take another bite.
“What is your favorite kind of cake, Savina?” Pavel asks, and I’m happy that he’s trying to strike up conversation and engage with me.
“I love black forest cake, but I know that’s not really typical for a wedding,” I surmise. In fact, the bakery didn’t even offer a sample of that for the tasting.
“Black forest cake? Oh, absolutely not,” Cosette says, shooting down my idea immediately.
“I’ve never tried it, but it sounds like it would be good,” Pavel adds, surprising me. Maybe he’s finally trying to make an effort with me.
I smile at him, hopefully conveying that I appreciate it.
“So, what did we decide?” the shop owner asks after what feels like two hours of tasting every cake flavor imaginable.
“I think I want the traditional white on white,” I say finally, and I can hear Cosette gasping in horror.
“After all of those samples, you choose the most basic one?” my stepmother cries.
