Cutting the Cake

You are currently reading from the Prompt #2 Series.

As I closed the door behind me, I made my way over to the vanity and gasped at my reflection.  Between getting my makeup done, my dress on, the flowers in my hand and taking pictures…I hadn’t really had the time to look at myself.

I turned and looked behind me so as to make sure there was not another bride with whom I could confuse myself.  As I took note that I was alone, I placed the wedding knife onto the marble counter top, and gazed at my reflection.

Devin’s mother had done such a good job with the makeup that I barely looked like myself – the lids of my eyes were lightly dusted with some sort of shimmery substance over a hue of purple that coincidentally matched the bouquets and bridesmaids dresses.  I ran my fingers over my lips, wondering how they ever got to be such a rosy shade of pink…and wondering if the people at the funeral home would be able to replicate this look as I laid in my casket.

I took a deep breath, glaring at the wedding knife, smiling to myself.  When it came to this wedding, Devin’s mother had been in charge of pretty much everything.  The only detail she deemed me equipped to handle was choosing the cake.


“What do you mean you don’t like red velvet cake?” Ryan gasped, as we waited for our bakery consultation to begin.
“It’s not that I don’t like it…it’s just weird.”
“How is it weird?” he laughed in disbelief.
“I don’t know…it just is.  Like, okay, why is it red?  And who, in all honestly, wants their cake to be velvety?  Why couldn’t they call it ‘vanilla deliciousness’ or ‘chocolate moist center’?”
“I am so glad you aren’t a baker, Lauren.  Even if you were the best baker in the country, ain’t no way you’d be doing business with names like that.”
“Shut up!” I laughed, giving him a light tap on the shoulder.  “Anyway, I’m really glad you’re here.”
“Me too, Lauren.  Me too.”

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