Chapter 6: Six Cakes

Cass walked in at twenty to seven with her fiance and a box of doughnuts nobody needed.

I stood behind the front counter, dressed, apronned and floury, with my face composed.

Lark stood next to the pastry case with a lemon tart in a box and a calm that was almost insulting.

"Lark!" Cass said. "What are you doing here?"

"Getting breakfast. I'm a regular."

"You're a regular at Noor's? Since when?"

"A year," Lark said. "The tarts are the best in the city."

I looked at the ceiling.

Cass looked at me, then at Lark, and then she clapped her hands.

"This is perfect. You're in the family, so you can help us taste."

"Cass, she has to feed the seals."

"The seals can wait forty minutes." Cass was already pulling out chairs at the front table. "Bride's orders. Everyone sits."

I carried out the first tray.

I had baked six sample cakes the night before the reunion, each a quarter-size round with a different filling.

Vanilla chiffon with raspberry.

Lemon olive oil with mascarpone.

Chocolate with salted caramel.

Almond with orange blossom, my grandmother's flavor.

Pistachio with rose.

And a carrot cake, for the fiance, who said carrot cake was a personality.

Lark sat down on my left, a polite chair's width away.

Cass sat across, with the fiance beside her, both of them holding forks.

"Start with the vanilla," I said. "Tell me what you think. Don't be nice."

"I'm never nice," Cass said, and ate a bite. "Oh, God."

"Good oh God or bad oh God?"

"Good! It's like a cloud wearing a raspberry."

The fiance nodded. "It's very soft."

Under the table, a bare foot nudged my ankle.

I kept my face still.

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