When Sunday finally arrived, Amelia anxiously waited for the front door to burst open and her kids to come filing in, dropping their backpacks on the floor and making a dash for the fridge. As teenagers, they were always hungry. Waiting on the counter for them were four of her new cupcake creations. Before she’d dare make them for the public, she wanted the approval of the Pink Cupcake’s harshest critics.
They were right on time.
“Hi, Mom!” Meg yelled loud enough to reach the very edge of the backyard property line.
“Mom! We’re home!” Adam boomed, not to be outdone by his sister.
“Yikes!” Amelia gasped, covering her ears with her hands. “I’m right here.”
Meg skipped over and gave her mother a hug and a kiss. Adam, getting too big for hugs, just gave his mom a kiss on the top of the head. Amelia was sure it was to remind her how much taller he was than she. At seventeen Adam was almost six feet tall.
“I’ve got something for you guys to try.” She scooted the plate over and watched their expressions.
Both children eagerly snatched up a cupcake, and each took a bite.
“Is there bacon in this?” Adam mumbled, letting a few crumbs escape and fall to the floor.
Nodding, Amelia smiled.
“It’s crunchy and salty, yet smooth and chocolaty. Mom, this is your greatest creation so far!” Meg held up her hand in front of her mouth while she spoke. “It’s like a breakfast dessert.”
“Well, I was wondering what to call it.” Amelia snapped her fingers. “Breakfast Dessert is the perfect name.”
Meg beamed and looked up at her big brother, who nodded his head, too.
“Did you guys have fun at your dad’s?”
They both looked at each other, putting that unspoken communication between siblings on full display.
“What is it?” Amelia asked.
“The wedding, Mom.” Meg said after swallowing her mouthful of cupcake. “If I have to hear any more about that wedding, I’m going to barf.”
“Oh, come on.” Amelia patted her daughter’s shoulder. “Jennifer is just excited. It’s her first one,” Amelia said sarcastically. That little voice inside her head laughed out loud. It won’t be her last. You can bet on it. If he’ll do it with you, he’ll do it to you. But she kept her elaboration to herself.
“But Mom, she just won’t stop. The bridesmaid dresses are gold lamé.” Meg wrinkled her nose.
“No.”
“They are, Mom,” Adam said. “We saw pictures. Dozens of them.” Adam sighed and grabbed his second Breakfast Dessert cupcake.
“Gold lamé? That’s shiny stuff. Are you sure they aren’t just a gold color?”
“Yes,” the kids said in unison.
“Well, it’s her big day. Who are we to tell her what’s pretty? She has her own ideas, and maybe since she was a little girl she’s always wanted a gold-themed wedding.” Perfect for a gold-digger. Again, Amelia kept her sarcasm to herself. “What does your dad say?”
“Nothing,” they said together. Amelia looked from Adam to Meg and back again, wondering if they had practiced this.
“Well, Adam. Did you see the tuxes you and your dad would be wearing? Please don’t tell me those are gold lamé, too.” Amelia chuckled.
“Yeah, they’re okay, I guess.” He had finished the second cupcake in three bites.
“Don’t you like them?”
“They are made for old men.” Adam shook his head. “I look like the Penguin from those old Batman episodes Dan likes to watch.”
Dan had spent one evening enlightening the kids regarding the old Adam West Batman series, making them laugh as he read the comic words like pizzzow and thurrrump. In one of the episodes, the Caped Crusader fought Burgess Meredith, who Dan said played the best version of the Penguin out of all the different versions of the DC Comics villain. Amelia couldn’t help but laugh at her son’s description. “Do you have a top hat and tails?” she asked.
“Yes. They are all black and gray and white. I look ridiculous.”
Amelia stood up and smoothed her son’s wildly curly hair away from his forehead.
“Well, just remember that once the reception starts, you can dump the jacket and the hat, and you’ll have lots of fun dancing and talking and eating. Trust me, you’ll have a great time.”
Amelia couldn’t help but feel a little vindicated that her children were not all that impressed with Jennifer’s tastes. But it made sense. She was only a couple years older than they were. Tacky and gaudy were still acceptable traits for a woman in her early twenties to have. But it did make Amelia wonder what the wedding dress looked like. She made a mental note to call Christine and tell her all about it.
As it turned out, the following day, as soon as the Pink Cupcake opened for business, Amelia received a desperate call from Christine. It wasn’t the normal desperate, with the kids acting up or her husband stapling his thumb to his forefinger. This was on a completely different level. She was terrified.
“Calm down, honey. Breathe,” Amelia said soothingly into her cell phone. “Now, what did you say happened?”
“Danielle Wilcox. She was the secretary for us in the Marketing Department.” Christine huffed like she’d run up eight flights of stairs.
“I met her, right? Pretty girl who wore her hair in a beehive.”
“Yes. That’s her. She’d been here for a little less than a year.” Christine blubbered. “She’s dead. Murdered. They found her stabbed in the supply room.”
Amelia gasped. “What? You’re kidding.” Her left hand latched on to Lila, her assistant at the food truck, and her eyes gaped. “Murdered?”