The Cake
– Happy birthday to you! the song began softly, gradually growing stronger. – Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Christopher! Happy birthday to you!
Everyones eyes turned to the kitchen door, where Emma was meant to appear any moment, cake in hand. The lights were already switched off, and we all waited for the highlight of the evening with an eager tension hanging in the air. The pause stretched uncomfortably; someone giggled, nerves fraying, and another guest restarted the birthday chorus.
– What on earth is going on? My mum, Barbara Cooper, frowned as she squeezed her way towards the door.
There were plenty of guests: relatives, workmates from the firm Christopher manages, a fair few friends. After all, it was a milestone thirty-five! Despite Christophers attempted protest, Mum insisted on a big do.
– Youre not a child anymore. It’s high time you started paying attention to the world about you. Connections matter. Conversation matters. Son, this isnt just a party its a chance to talk to the right people.
– Oh, Mum, lets not do this! You just want to show me off, admit it, dont you? Christopher grinned, watching her puff up with indignation. Well, fine! Ill give you the party you want, youll have the chance to boast all you like, and then Emma and I are off on holiday! Well away from all these important people of yours.
– Off again? Why now? Dont you have work to get back to? Wasnt it just last month you two got back from your honeymoon?
– Oh for goodness sake, Mum Christopher, tall and skinny as a rake, stooped over to hug her. Havent you got it muddled up? Whats with the interrogation? Im a grown man, I can do what I like, cant I?
– I suppose so Mum sighed, reluctantly turning her cheek for a kiss.
– Well, look at you wise as anything! Ive always said it.
– I only wish your wife had a little of that sense.
– Mum?
– What?!
– We’re going to fall out, you and I. Havent we discussed this before? Didnt you agree my choices were mine? That youd respect them?
– Yes
– Well then, lets leave it. Youre the best mum in the world! And I have the best wife too! Youre my absolute dream team. If you two dont get on, who suffers? Thats right, me! So, peace and so on. Isnt it enough that I love her? Want more? Alright, Emmas a perfect fit, Mum, and you know it. Shes clever, well educated, from a lovely family, and with a hefty dowry not unimportant, is it? Ive met all your requirements, havent I? Or am I wrong? You were dead set against me staying with Sarah, if I remember.
– Well, I was right about Sarah, wasn’t I? She was only after your flat and your cash. She never loved you!
– Lets not, Mum. Thats water under the bridge. Sarahs happy in her new marriage and I wish her well. Would it really have been better if we stayed together, torturing each other with silent resentment?
– She cheated on you, Son!
– So what? We were finished before then youd insisted on it. And though you hammered on about her running about and not being good enough, there was never any such thing. We were too young, far too different, passion more than proper love. Neednt you have let us make our own mistakes instead of driving a wedge between us? Do you not see there was nothing gained?
– You became free.
– At what cost? Remember? And does it not count, all those years I lost? Does it not hurt you, how it left me feeling? Im not made of stone, Mum! And honestly, I know no girl could ever live up to you so no one will ever seem good enough. But you know what I realised?
– What, love?
– Ive finally understood, you love me and I love you but love cant be conditional, only if I do as Im told. I lose interest in that. Thats not about Emma, or anyone else. Its about us. Please let me breathe, and well be fine. Oh, I nearly forgot the keys.
– What keys?
– To my flat. Please give them back.
– Now see here! She almost spluttered with outrage Why on earth shouldn’t I have a set? When you go away, wholl feed your cat and water your plants?
– Oh, Mum. What plants? Theres just a tired old cactus in hibernation. And the cat will stay with Emmas parents. For some reason, hes taken a great shine to her dad and is more than happy to spend a fortnight there.
– Christopher, youve really changed…
– Maybe its about time, Mum. What are we even arguing about now? Lets be done with it. Give me the keys and off I go. Youll get your party, and Emmas promised to bake a cake! Shes been plotting the filling for ages. You know what a perfectionist she is.
– And she wouldn’t have her own bakery if she weren’t!
– Oh, Mum, youre a marvel! Is that a compliment for Emma? Did I hear that right?
– Off with you! Chatterbox! Mum stood on tiptoe, yanked his ear in mock severity. The keys are on the hook in the hallway. Take them! And Christopher
– Yes? he paused at the door.
– Youre right I am turning into a nuisance, arent I? her eyes glistened. Take me to the woods and leave me behind!
Christopher strode across the room and threw his arms around her.
– Youve got ages left before you turn into an old dear, Mum! Years and years! Theres grandchildren and great-grandchildren to come, and then there’s us whod keep an eye on us if not you? Dont start! Im off, or shell be waiting.
– Wait why isnt she driving her own car?
– Lent it to her cousin for a bit. Olivia sold her car and hasn’t bought a new one yet. Needs the wheels for her daughters appointments. So Emmas been waiting for me to pick her up after work anyway.
– Olivias little one poorly?
– Something with her eyes. Nothing’s certain yet, just poor eyesight. Olivias run off her feet. Only five, but better to get it checked.
– Absolutely! Poor child so young to have these worries.
– Mum, you saw that poor child at our wedding. Shes a hurricane crossed with a tornado! Shell be fine, and well help if needed. Medicines not the same as it was. Right, Im off. See you later!
Mum wore herself out with it all, fretting and scolding herself for never learning to hold her tongue. She hadnt managed it as a child not with her own mum, not with her husband. Only her wit had seen her through. Even as a child, shed say something outrageous and set the room laughing. Her husband didnt fall for that so easily, but by the time she married, shed gained some self control. Arguments were rare and exhausting. Bickering never suited her.
Now though she barely recognised herself. What was she doing? Hadnt she already meddled enough?
She hadnt liked her first daughter-in-law, Sarah, not one bit. She wept almost openly at the wedding. Not even her husbands gentle comfort or her own mums patience could settle her.
– Cheer up, Barbara! Its meant to be a happy day, not a circus! her husband would snap.
But she didnt listen. How could she? It was the end of the world!
Her Christopher! Married at twenty-three! And to that girl? She was pretty, yes, but there was nothing else there, not in mind or in heart for him. And, worst of all, Barbara couldnt picture her as the mother of her grandchildren…
Oh, how she regretted it later. She felt as if her own curse unwitting though it was had denied Sarah the chance to become a mother with Christopher.
– Barbara, dont! her own mum would rasp from her sickbed. That anger and spite comes back on you. You mustnt wish ill on people not even in your heart. Pity your son. Right now, his bond with her is stronger than with you. Thats as it should be!
– Im not wishing her harm! You dont understand! She doesnt love him. Give it two years and theyll be done. All hell do is waste time.
– If its his choice, thats his time lost. If its yours, it may be worse. Please, listen to me
– Mum, lets have you rest, shall we? You need your strength.
How shed give anything to hear the advice her mother never finished. But lost time is lost.
Had she listened, things might be different. Her son might not have lost a decade. Maybe shed have been a granny years ago
Now she was cross all over again, stirring up unhelpful memories. She had felt sad for Sarah too, when shed lost the baby. But even then, she couldnt show it. She’d snapped when Sarah, turned to the wall, wouldnt respond, and later, when Sarah threw her a dry, bitter glance and said:
– Is this what you wanted? Are you happy now?
Oh, Barbara had flared up then! Shed given Sarah a severe dressing down and nearly slammed the door on her way out. Now she knew she was to blame Sarah was right, in part. No fights, no grudges maybe Sarahs child would still be here.
But what stung most was what happened years later. Barbara bumped into Sarah in town, after her second marriage. Sarah smiled simply smiled adjusted the cover on her babys pram, and wished Barbara all the best. Pure kindness, without a trace of malice. Barbara saw it and it burned in her. Where did that strength come from? How could she just forgive and move on, basking freely in the sunlight with her little boy? Barbara could never have managed it herself. She would have nursed that grudge until it blocked out the sky.
No answers. Only worry boundless and unrestrained. How was her son really? Was he well?
To outsiders, everything looked wonderful. His own business, his own flat at last. Emma in his life now Christopher was right, Emma was a good sort. Good family, her parents both doctors.
Barbara had been surprised to hear they supported Emma when she broke the family tradition.
– But why? Yours is a family dynasty! Barbara was baffled; Emmas mum just laughed.
– Its not a royal line, dear! She can do as she likes our job is to help her and support her!
– Making cakes? Is that really a profession? Isnt it all just nonsense?
– Not at all. Everyones got their own skills. I can bring a child into the world, but I can’t bake cakes like Emma. Shes a whiz with numbers, too. Did you know she keeps the books for the shop? Yes, she planned so well we never took out a business loan. We just sold the old garage to help her rent a shop and we wanted rid of that anyway. So everyone does their bit, dont you agree?
– I dont know. I think being a doctor is a proper job. But Emmas young. She may change her mind.
– And if she does, Ill say, go on, love! Well help! Shes our only child what is life for, but to see her happy?
Barbara just shook her head. How could it be right, giving a child their way in absolutely everything?
Emma hadnt seemed to notice her doubts, busy as she was. That very evening, her father had announced hed found her shop premises, and she dove straight into setting up her own bakery.
Again, Barbara was left unsettled. What for? Christopher made good money; why all the extra stress? Wouldn’t it be better for Emma to stay home, care for her husband, then the children? But nobody wanted Barbaras advice. Instead, Christopher had bought his fiancée some fancy equipment and Barbara watched, bemused, as Emma all but bounced off the ceiling with excitement. Really now! How was she going to be a mum like that? Barbara steeled herself to help when the time came, but knew Emma would have her own mother nearby. Shed be left on the sidelines again once more, surplus to requirements. It hurt.
That hurt was hard to shake, and so she kept finding excuses to find fault with Emma.
And now, again! Where was she? How long could it take? Lighting the candles was a matter of seconds, and still not a sign of her!
Barbara weaved through the crowd, who were joking now and calling out, Wheres the cake?, before she made her way into the kitchen.
– Emma! Whats happened in here
Oh, the scene that greeted her! The cake, the centrepiece Emma had spent nearly a whole day preparing, fussing over every last detail, was ruined. A huge dent on its side revealed the delicate filling pale pinks, a flash of cherry red, a glimmer of dark chocolate. Barbara realised Emma had chosen her favourite, Black Forest Gateau. Christopher liked it, but it was her special treat. Emma had tried to please Barbara in particular.
All the sadder that it was ruined. And by whom! Lottie, Olivias daughter. The very child for whom Emma had lent out her car and now waited for Christopher after work since she had no transport.
Lottie stood there with arms out, fingers coated in cream, face terrified behind her new glasses, and Barbaras annoyance melted into pity.
– What happened here? Lottie, did you do this? How? Where was everyone? Barbaras eyes scanned about and suddenly spotted Emma, who was crouched by the table, sobbing. Mascara streaked down her cheeks.
Barbara barely knew what came over her. The sight of Emma weeping for a cake made specially to please her, pierced her heart. Barbara knelt, drew Emma to her feet, hugged her, stroking her hair and whispering gentle reassurances.
– Come on now, love, theres no need for tears. Well sort something, well make it right. Its nothing but a silly mishap. Not real trouble at all, darling! Dont tempt fate! Well think of something now, deep breath.
Something about her tone, the old familiar ring, calmed Emma too. These were not moments to argue with your mother-in-law.
– But how? Emma sniffled. What are we supposed to do?
– Lottie, how did it happen?
Elizabeth now Lottie looked down, sulking.
– I dont know.
– Your hands are covered in cream, darling! How can you not know?
Lottie stayed silent, eyes on the floor.
– It wasnt her!
The voice came from under the table. Barbara jumped, startled, gathering her long skirt.
– Auntie Barbara, please dont shout! Its just me, Patrick!
Her little nephew a six-year-old troublemaker crawled out, sheepish but earnest. Usually, the family asked if Patrick could be left home with his grandparents on occasions, but since the party was at a café with a childrens corner, the kids came too.
After a while, Patrick, bored of the under-fives, sought adventure in the kitchen. The splendid cake proved too great a temptation. Just one cherry! No one would notice, surely.
Lottie had entered at the very moment Patrick, stretched on a wobbly stool, toppled and landed both hands deep in the delicate cream.
– Dont just stand there! Help me!
Lottie, worried for her own dress, helped Patrick off the stool, avoiding looking at the cake out of dread.
– Promise you wont tell!
– Theyll find out!
– Not if you keep quiet. Ill say it was the cat!
– What cat? Emmas cats at home. Theres no cat here.
– Well, no matter! Ill still say it was the cat. Snitch, and youll get it!
– Im not scared of you! Lottie said, making tiny fists.
They might have come to blows if Emmas footsteps hadnt echoed in the corridor just then, Patrick diving for cover under the table, and Lottie staying rooted, arms stretched, careful not to ruin her party dress.
Emma hadnt scolded her. She simply stared at her ruined masterpiece, then crumpled, crying like a child herself. Lottie almost burst into tears too, but then Barbara appeared.
Patrick, meanwhile, was still trying to wipe cream from his hands and now blurted out:
– Auntie Barbara, please dont be cross with Lottie! It was me! But its the cakes fault, really it looked too good! I just wanted a taste!
– And how did you know it would taste good? Emma managed a watery smile.
– I licked my fingers
In that moment, both Emma and Barbara laughed in spite of themselves and their annoyance faded, just as Olivia appeared.
– Emma, are you Oh goodness! What happened here?
Within minutes, everyone was pitching in. Barbara sliced the intact side of the cake, Emma set out slices on plates, pinning candles in each. Olivia cleaned up the children and sent them back to the main hall, then joined in with the rest.
– Any ideas?
– Oh yes Barbaras plan. Id never have thought of it!
– Emma, if you ever decide to stop calling me Barbara, you can call me Mum. I know you have your own mum, but I can be Mum Barbara, cant I? Perhaps not today, but maybe one day. No rush.
Emma and Olivia exchanged a quiet smile. Barbara finished garnishing her plate, then declared:
– Lets go!
A few minutes later, everyone had cake. The lights were off again, candles glowing gently as she announced:
– Usually the birthday boy gets to blow out the candles and make a wish, but tonight were changing the rules. Everyone blow out a candle, wish Christopher happiness, and make a wish for yourself or someone else. Take it seriously! Wishes do come true! Barbara shut her eyes, made her wish and blew out her candle.
A year later, she was pacing the hospital steps, beside herself with anticipation.
– Typical, Barbara! You had to go and warn everyone about wishes and now look! Well done, you!
Emmas parents watched, amused, as did the rest of the family, while the photographer snapped them all the new grandparents, Barbara on the top step, Lottie and Patrick holding hands, and every well-wisher whod come to celebrate Emma and Christophers new arrival.
Emma stepped into the sunshine, squinting and radiant, baby in arms.
– Hello, everyone! Meet our young man! Michael Christopher! So who gets the first cuddle?
Barbara stepped forward, glancing at Emmas parents, who smiled at her reassuringly.
– May I? she asked softly, hands held out.
– Mum Barbara! Stop fussing! Come on, hold him tight! Hes our future, isnt he? Thats right perfect, isnt it?
– Yes Barbara softly lifted the blanket edge and froze in a happiness all her own.
