The Icing on the Cake (25 page)

“Hi,” the two said in unison.

“Have you folded napkins before?” Jacqueline asked me.

“Like in half?”

“No. Like this.” Jacqueline placed a napkin that had been folded into a swan in front of me.

“Not quite,” I said.

“That’s all right. I’ll show you how to do it,” Jacqueline said.

“Don’t worry, it’s not that hard,” Amber assured me with a sweet smile forming on her gloss-smothered lips.

“All right,” I responded slowly.

I watched closely as Jacqueline demonstrated how to fold the napkin. It started out simple enough—a few triangles here, a basic fold there. Then suddenly it took a terrible turn. Octagons, hexagons, and other gons I don’t know the names of took the place of the triangles. And flippy-inside-outy folds were being used instead of the basic ones.

“Are you getting all that?” Amber asked, probably sensing my distress.

“Not really. I don’t get how . . .”

“I’m almost finished,” Jacqueline said.

My mind became a muddle of geometrical complexities as I continued to watch Jacqueline’s fingers move about capably. Then, when I was sure no earthy shape could be made out of all of the madness, Jacqueline set a perfect swan on the table.

“Do you want to try one?” Jacqueline asked.

I bit my lip and willed my brain to give me a photographic memory.
Just this once, please brain. I’ve taken care of you over the years. I’ve never played any contact sports. I’ve eaten my leafy greens. I’ve read every book on my summer reading lists.

But no such luck. I couldn’t remember a thing. My brain completely let me down.

Just for that, no spinach for a month,
I scolded my brain.

“Would you like to try?” Jacqueline repeated.

“Sure,” I answered hesitantly. “I think maybe I can do it.”

You big huge liar
, my brain said.

But since my brain and I weren’t on the best of terms at that moment, I ignored it. Plus, I figured I could do it. I could just follow Jacqueline’s lead. I was sure I could get it by watching a couple more times.

Jacqueline, however, had other ideas in mind. “Good,” she said, rising from her seat. “I have some flower arrangements to set out.” She started to walk away.

“I lied,” I blurted out. “I have no idea how to do it.”

Jacqueline smiled. “It took me a while to learn how to do it too,” she said. “You can watch Amber fold some more. If you can fold some, that is great. But if you cannot, that is fine too.”

“Okay,” I said, grateful for the kindness Jacqueline had shown me from the moment we met my first day at La Bonne Violette.

“I have something for you,” Amber said after Jacqueline had gone.

“What? For me?”

Amber reached beneath the table and retrieved a small handbag. “I didn’t know when I would see you here again, so I’ve just been carrying it around with me.” Amber pulled a still-in-the-package tube of Foxy Glossy lip gloss from her bag and handed it to me. “This is for you,” she said.

My mouth opened in surprise. “You are the sweetest thing!” I ripped into the package and swiped some of the gloss onto my lips. “Thank you so much!” I got up from my seat and went over to hug Amber. Her light-filled eyes sparkled.

“I bought it with the money I got from helping Mom on Wednesday.”

“I can’t believe you spent your hard earned money on me,” I said.

“I like to be able to buy things for people. When I lived with my . . . with my birth mom I used to earn money babysitting. I hid the money in my room, but she always found it and took it to buy . . . not good stuff.” Amber’s bright eyes turned momentarily sad.

I sat silently, not sure how to reply.

“I guess we should start folding,” Amber said, changing the subject quickly.

“Okay,” I said.

I turned my attention to the napkins on the table and picked one up. I watched Amber’s hands as I folded my first swan. When I was finished, I held up my swan and compared it to the one Jacqueline had folded, which was sitting on the table. Not even close. While the other napkin was undoubtedly in the shape of a swan, mine resembled an anteater that had grown a set of bat wings.

Amber looked at my creation and tried not to giggle.

“That was just a practice one,” I said, quickly unfolding the anteater.

Moments later I looked at my second swan attempt. A little better. At least it looked like a bird. Kind of like a turkey. Why did it need to be a swan anyway? I mean, the turkey is a nice bird.

“How are you two getting along?” Jacqueline’s accented voice came from behind me.

“Fine,” I muttered, hiding my turkey among the collection of swans that Amber had successfully folded.

“Amber, Ethan was wondering if you want to go test out the piano,” Jacqueline said.

“Of course!” Amber exclaimed.

“Amber plays the piano and sings in the school choir,” Jacqueline said as she took a seat at the table.

“Really?” I asked, impressed. I pushed the unfolded napkins away from me. There really was no point in folding anymore. But if anyone needs some turkey napkins, call me, I’m your girl.

Amber blushed slightly at Jacqueline’s comment.

“She has a solo in one of the songs for the end of the year concert,” Jacqueline said.

“What song are you singing?” I asked.

“‘This Little Light of Mine.’”

“No way! I love that song. It’s one of my top-ten, make that top-five, favorites.”

“Maybe you could come to the concert,” Amber suggested.

“Maybe I’ll just have to,” I replied with a smile.

Amber stood up from the table. “See you later, Annabelle,” she said. Then she hurried off to test the piano.

“She’s such a sweet girl, Jacqueline,” I said once Amber had gone.

“She really is. And she has had such a difficult life.”

“So is she . . . is she your adopted daughter?” I asked carefully. I turned my head toward the piano when I heard Amber begin to play a Chopin piece. A piece I had tried to learn but hadn’t been able to play.

“We haven’t officially adopted her, but to us she is our daughter. Her mother, Holly, was my cousin. She left home at sixteen and became involved in some terrible things. She turned around for a while after Amber was born, but it did not last long. From the time Amber was six years old, Holly would drop her off at my house for long periods of time. Amber started calling me ‘Mom’ and my husband ‘Dad’ when she was seven.”

Jacqueline paused for a moment, and I pondered how difficult that must have been for Amber.

Jacqueline continued. “Then Holly ended her own life two years ago, and my husband and I took Amber in permanently. She’s been such a joy.” A far-off look came over Jacqueline’s face. “We never had children of our own.”

“She’s a very sweet girl,” I said, rubbing my Foxy Glossy covered lips together.

“Yes,” Jacqueline said softly. “She is very special. So, how did you fare with the napkins?”

“Not so great,” I admitted. “I think I did more harm than good.” I picked up my turkey and showed it to Jacqueline.

“It looks good to me,” I heard Isaac’s voice say behind me.

I turned around to face him. “Thanks,” I said.

“Are you willing to spare her?” Isaac asked Jacqueline.

“She probably wants to get rid of me,” I quipped. “I wasn’t much help.”

“Of course I don’t want to get rid of you. But I see that this handsome young man wants some of your time, so I am willing to share.”

I smiled at Jacqueline as I got up from my chair and stood next to Isaac. I noticed that he was holding a camera in his right hand.

“The recital is set to start in about fifteen minutes,” he said. “I was wondering if you could come into the kitchen and help me bring out the food.”

“Yes, I can. But just understand that Jean-Pierre’s kitchen and I don’t get along very well.”

Isaac grinned. “I’ll take my chances.”

“Are you going to take photos of the recital?” I asked, glancing at the camera.

“I sure am,” Isaac replied. He quickly snapped a picture of Jacqueline who was folding the last of the napkins. Jacqueline wagged a finger of reprimand at him.

“Okay. Do you mind if I meet you in the kitchen in a minute or two?” I asked. “I just have to do something really quick.”

“That’s fine,” Isaac answered, looking at me like I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. The look made me feel terribly feverish. “See you.”

“See you,” I echoed.

I found a quiet, empty corner outside of the Rouge Room where I retrieved my Pink Notes from my bag and began writing.

Now if only I could get notes this good for my article,
I thought as I left the banquet room and went to search for Isaac.

Y
ou’re not peeking are you?” Isaac asked. “How do you expect me to peek?” I fiddled with the blindfold that Isaac had secured over my eyes.

Of course, I didn’t need to peek to know where we were. I could feel the sand between my toes. I could hear the sound of the waves and the seagulls in the distance. I could feel the wind, which was so cool that I pulled the sleeves of the sweatshirt Isaac had lent me over my hands.

Isaac held onto me, guiding my path until he declared, “Here we are,” and removed the blindfold.

A huge smile formed on my lips as I took in the sight. Isaac had laid a large blanket on the shores of Marina State Beach. On top of the blanket sat a bouquet of tulips in a silver pail and a Coleman lantern, which supplemented the light of the fading sun. A large picnic basket was placed across from the tulips and lantern, helping to keep the blanket from blowing away in the wind.

“It’s perfect,” I said to Isaac as I hugged him. “But you’ve been with me at the recital, how did you . . . ?”

“Carrie helped me.” Isaac held onto my hand as I sat down on the blanket and then took a seat across from me.

“Seriously?” I looked around, trying to spot Carrie ducking behind a piece of driftwood, but she was nowhere to be seen. In fact, Isaac and I were the only ones on the beach except for a couple jogging along the water in the distance.

“She helped me with everything. Including traveling to Salinas to get our dinner.” Isaac reached into the picnic basket and retrieved a white bag I immediately recognized. That bright yellow arrow. Those gorgeous red letters. An In-N-Out burger bag!

With a smile, Isaac opened the bag and placed a cheeseburger, an order of fries, and a strawberry shake in front of me. And even though I hadn’t quite kept my word about saving room in my stomach and had sampled nearly every one of the delicious treats at the recital, everyone knows there’s always room for In-N-Out. I took a bite of the burger, then a drink of the shake, then added a fry to my mouth. The tastes danced together on top of my tongue. It was pure heaven.

Isaac and I chatted as we enjoyed our food. Then, when the last bite was gone, Isaac looked at me. “I have something else for you,” he said. He reached into the picnic basket and pulled out a package wrapped in silver paper. He placed the package in my hands gently. “This is for you.”

Carefully, I peeled back the wrapping paper. Inside, I found a leather-bound album. I opened the cover of the album and nearly gasped at the beauty of what I saw: a breathtaking black and white photograph of the ocean.

“It was taken from nearly the exact same spot we’re sitting in,” Isaac told me.

I looked up from the photo and was carried away in the feeling of being in the very spot it was taken. “It’s incredible. I can’t believe you did this for me.”

“Remember the bet we made on Cannery Row? You said this is what you wanted if you won, so I just had to give it to you.”

“Even though I lost the bet?”

“Yeah, even though you lost,” Isaac said, chuckling. Then he gestured toward the album. “There’s more.”

Slowly, carefully, I turned to the pages of the album, each featuring a beautiful black and white picture of the natural wonders of the Monterey Bay and Monterey Peninsula. Pictures of the rocky shores of Point Lobos. Photos of Pebble Beach. Shots of smiling children playing on the shores of Carmel Beach.

“Isaac, these are incredible,” I whispered, deeply moved by the gift. It was at that moment that I knew what I had to do.

Gently I closed the album and placed it beside me on the blanket. Then I reached into my handbag and retrieved my Pink Notes. I held them tightly in my hand and spoke to Isaac. “I . . . I’ve never shown this book to anyone besides my family and Carrie, who is practically family. In fact, the thought of showing it to anyone completely scares me. But for the first time in my life, I want to show it to someone. I want to show it to you.”

I began to hand Isaac the notebook, but immediately pulled it back again. “Please don’t laugh. I know it may seem silly. But this book means a lot to me.” With slightly shaking hands, I gave Isaac the notebook.

Isaac carefully opened the book and began reading. He flipped to my last entries and read what I had written about Ethan, Angel, Jacqueline, and Amber. I held my breath as I watched him, feeling like I had just handed him my beating heart.