Always the Baker, Never the Bride (41 page)

Bitsy snorted out a quick thank you before trotting into the deepest part of the banquet.

T
his has been just great. I’m so glad we could do it.”

Vivian’s heart stopped at the words. She clamped her eyes shut for just a moment, suppressing the groan bubbling up inside of her.

“Maybe we can make it a regular thing. I’ve got lots of recipes to try out on you all.”

She pasted a smile on her face and nodded as the conflicting vow resonated in her head.

I’d rather lay down in traffic than do this again.

What Trish had called coq au vin turned out to be nothing more than chicken stew with bacon grease frosting, and the espresso she’d served with that horrendous fruit tart had the consistency of a mud pie. Vivian had barely survived the meal, a fact which had nothing to do with the violent inner reaction to making it “a regular thing.”

“Ready to go?” Caleb asked her, but the words hardly reached fruition before his eyes popped open in reaction to the pained expression on his wife’s face.

“I can’t,” Vivian whispered.

“I know. It was a little heavy. I’ll stop at the drugstore on the way home for some Maalox.”

“No. Caleb. I
can’t go”

He shot a quick glance at the others, all of them on their feet, in various stages of thank yous and goodnights as they headed toward the front door.

“Vivi, what is wrong with you? What do you mean you can’t go?”

“I can’t,” she told him through tight lips. “I can’t get out of this chair.” “What—”

“I’m stuck.” She rocked from side to side, taking the narrow chair right along with her. “I’m wedged into this thing, Caleb. I can’t get up.”

His effort to hold back his laughter only made it worse as a sort of screech escaped through his nose, followed by a bit of a raspberry from between his lips.

“Stop it. I’m mortified. What do I do?”

“Try turning sideways,” he offered, pushing at the pocket of hip flesh trapped beneath the squared arm of the chair. “Then kind of wiggle out.”

Vivian knew there would be no wiggle wiggly enough to liberate two feet of fanny from one foot of chair.

“Man, you’re really stuck in there, aren’t you?”

His powers of observation are staggering.

“Yes, honey. I’m really stuck.”

He pushed at her derriere as he pulled at the chair arm. With the sudden crack! of wood, Vivian belted out a little shriek.

“Holy moley, it broke.”

Their eyes locked for a split second before Vivian popped to her feet, tearing the hem of her dress on the splintered wood of the dangling arm.

“Vivi, let’s scram,” Caleb suggested, and Vivian nodded.

She scurried toward the doorway, her husband’s hand pressing against the small of her back. When a sudden notion tickled the underbelly of her brain, Vivian stopped in her tracks and considered it for a moment. Without a word to Caleb, she circled him and returned to the dining room. Grabbing the back of her chair, she dragged it away from the table. She glanced over her shoulder quickly before plucking another chair from its spot and switching the two.

“What are you doing?” Caleb asked her in a desperate whisper. “This is no time for musical chairs, Vivi.”

“I’m putting the broken one down where Jim was sitting,” she revealed, sliding the unbroken chair into place where she’d been seated for dinner.

“You’re framing Jim?”

“You bet I am.”

And with that, Caleb snatched her by the elbow and yanked. “Let’s go, Bonnie.”

“Coming, Clyde.”

Vivian plopped to the side of the bed and stroked the tear in her new dress. “Oh, this just makes me sick. I only got to wear it once.”

Caleb stood in the doorway to the bathroom in t-shirt and boxers, squeezing a line of toothpaste onto his bright red brush. “Can it be mended?” he asked before poking it into his mouth.

“I don’t think so, unless I hem it into a mini dress.”

“I like your legs,” he managed past the foamy toothbrush.

“There’s no accounting for taste.”

Caleb grinned and returned to the bathroom. Vivian hung the dress over the fold of the closet door and pulled a clean pair of pajamas from the bureau. Pink and gray flannel capri-length pants that tied at the waist and a short gray cotton top with pink butterflies in flight embroidered across the chest and down one arm. Poor Caleb. This was as close as Vivian got to lingerie these days; not that he seemed to mind.

With a pair of polka dot socks in hand, she grabbed the bottle of lotion from the dresser and returned to the bed. She pumped a dollop into her hand and rubbed it into her foot before covering it with one of the socks. She’d just begun working on the other foot when Caleb pulled back the bed linens and climbed in beside her.

“Poor old Jim Swanson,” he sang, shaking his head. “Framed for the cut-throat murder of Trish and Ed’s dining room chair.”

“You know how Jim rocks on the back legs of the chair all the time. Did you see Trish eyeing him when he did that all through dessert? When I saw the arm of my chair, hanging there by a thread, wobbling in the breeze, I just—”

“—thought you’d blame Jim.”

“Yes,” she admitted.

“Trish is one of your best friends.”

“Until my big butt is responsible for breaking her Cindy Crawford chair.”

“Isn’t she that model with the mole?”

“She also designs furniture.’ “Sure she does.”

Vivian pulled the sock over her foot and slipped her legs under the sheet. “Anyway, it wasn’t premeditated. It was a completely spontaneous reaction.”

An Interview with Author Sandra D. Bricker

Q:
What inspired you to create “laugh out loud” inspirational stories for women?

Sandie:
I’m a firm believer in the scripture that says a merry heart is like medicine. I mean, I’ve always been a bit of a class clown. Even in the worst of times, if I can find something to laugh about, things really start to look up. There’s hope in laughter, and I suppose I just knew somehow that my sense of humor came from the Lord. It was a natural progression to use that in weaving my stories. In
Steel Magnolias
, Dolly Parton’s character said, “Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion.” Rock on, Dolly, because I feel that way, too!

Q:
What elements of similarity will readers find in
Always the Baker, Never the Bride
and
The Big 5-Oh?

Sandie:
The basic stories and characterization are vastly different, but I think all of my stories have one foundational thread in common: a sense of destiny that is tied into God’s plan for our lives, told through my kind of unique and rather quirky sense of humor.

Q:
How do you as the author connect with the characters you write about?

Sandie:
Well, maybe I shouldn’t admit it … but the truth is … every one of my characters has a little piece of me in them, especially my heroines. My gigglability, my klutziness, my love of all things bakery! Even the fact that Olivia in
The Big 5-Oh!
is a cancer survivor, and Emma Rae in
Always the Baker
is a diabetic. I sort of live through my characters, except that they’re always thinner and cuter than me.

Q:
What do you think readers will enjoy most about
Always the Baker, Never the Bride?

Sandie:
In
The Big 5-Oh!
, it was the cast of characters and the freedom to really make fun of Florida that made it such a party. But
Baker
was truly the most fun I’ve ever had as a writer. Emma’s family and friends, and Jackson’s family as well, just rocked the whole book for me. I identified with Emma, and I think I fell a little bit in love with Jackson as I wrote the story. I’m pretty sure readers will fall for them as well.

Q:
Where did you do most of your research for Emma Rae’s award winning baker character?

Sandie:
In the acknowledgments at the front of the book, I credited my mom for making me what I am today: a diabetic with a weight problem. In all seriousness, the woman baked like a crazy person. Cakes, pies, muffins, you name it. Every dessert of my childhood and adolescence was nothing short of an extravaganza … so most of the recipes in the book came from her card file. In addition to Mom, I’m a little bit addicted to reality shows like Cake Boss and Amazing Wedding Cakes. I gained almost 20 pounds while researching and writing Baker, and I’d like to tell you it wasn’t worth it. I mean, I’d really like to tell you that. But, you know. I’m just sayin’.

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Sandra D. Bricker and check out other great fiction from Abingdon Press?

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www.SandraDBricker.com