Beach Wedding Read online

  Jules looks away. “So this isn’t a social visit then. I should have guessed you wouldn’t come back of your own accord.”

  I stop, awkward.

  “We’ll need to do a tasting, for them to pick the one they like,” Jules says briskly, all business. “I can make five different samples. You think that would be enough?”

  “I… Yes, that sounds great.” I’m still off-balance, trying to get my head around this new Jules. We used to be best friends, closer than anything, and now she’s acting like a total stranger. “I can email any dietary restrictions and things you need to know.”

  Jules snorts. “Sorry, but I don’t do that gluten-free low-carb thing. It’s sugar and cream and butter in this kitchen. If they don’t like that, then tough.”

  “They’ll deal,” I say, thinking of the fight ahead.

  “You can take a box, it’ll give you the basics for now.” Jules packs up a few cupcakes into a bright red pastry box and thrusts it into my hand. “So just take a card, and let me know when you want to set up the appointment.” She turns away, bustling around the back counter. Class dismissed.

  I know I should go now, but I loiter in the middle of the floor. This is all wrong.

  “Jules?” I wait. “Jules,” I try again, and she finally turns.

  “What?” she demands, and I’m shocked to see tears in her eyes.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She swipes angrily at her face. “Nothing. My allergies are playing up. Now can you just go?”

  “But why? Jules,” I say, anxious. “Tell me what’s going on. Why are you acting this way?”

  “Me?” Jules’s jaw drops. “Are you freaking kidding me right now?”

  “I… no?” I’m totally confused.

  “You left!” she explodes, stalking around the front of the counter. “You took off in the middle of the night, and never even said goodbye. I was your best friend, dammit; we were like sisters. I know you were just trying to make a break from Luke, but you left me behind too!”

  Chapter Eleven

  I stare at Jules, feeling like the worst friend in the entire universe. “Jules…”

  “No, I’m fine.” She pulls herself back together. “Really. It doesn’t matter that you took off like that, ditched our summer plans to travel. Do you remember? We were going to take a road trip all the way to California. We’d been planning it for months, and then I woke up on graduation day and found you’d gone without me.”

  “It wasn’t like that,” I protest. “I know I should have told you. But I didn’t plan it that way at all.”

  “You just woke up in the middle of the night and thought, ‘hey, how about I bail on everyone who loves me.”

  Jules’s jaw is set in angry determination. I have to hold back the tears. “I called you, I emailed; I didn’t just disappear. You were the one who stopped calling me back. I tried to stay friends, you know I did.”

  “It wasn’t the same.” Jules says, and I can see the betrayal on her face, still fresh after all these years. “You were off, busy with your new life. It felt like you didn’t care about me anymore.”

  “I’m sorry.” Now I’m crying too. “You know I never meant to hurt you. I just had to get out of here before I lost the nerve completely. You know Luke was talking about getting married, settling down. I loved him so much. I knew if he asked, it would be too late. I would have stayed.”

  Jules sniffles. “You were off having amazing adventures, and I was working at the Quick-n-Pick to make money for college. Even if you had to leave Luke, I couldn’t believe you would leave me behind, too.”

  “I’m sorry!” I wail. “I was so messed up. I didn’t know what to do. I know I made a mistake. I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

  “I’m sorry, too.” Jules starts to cry. “I’m the one who blocked you out in the end. I know you tried to stay in contact. I was just too mad to forgive you.”

  There’s a pause, and then we grab each other in a big hug. I hold her tightly. “I missed you so much.”

  “I missed you, too.”

  Ding!

  The door opens, and a middle-aged man walks in. “I need some cupcakes—”

  “Are you serious?” Jules cuts him off. “Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something here?”

  The man takes in our tear-soaked faces and running mascara. “I’ll, um, comes back another time,” he says, slowly backing out of the door like he’s escaping a wild animal.

  Jules and I look at each other, and laugh. “Dammit.” She wipes her face. “He was probably going to order two dozen. He had that panicked father late for a birthday party look about him.”

  “Don’t worry, Marcie and the TV production will pay through the roof. I’ll make sure of it.” I step away, and try to find a tissue in my purse.

  Jules lets out a sigh. “I need a drink. And some cake. Do you have time, or do you need to get back?” she asks.

  “For you, always,” I vow. Fate, and wedding cake, have delivered my best friend back to me. There’s not way I’m going to screw this up again. “We’ve got ten years to catch up on.”

  Jules laughs. “I better bring the bottle.”

  Jules grabs some wine from the kitchen fridge, and puts together a whole platter of cakes. “Official tasting business, of course,” she winks, leading me up a staircase at the back of the kitchen. On the first floor, there’s a door to an apartment. “Don’t look,” Jules says, still climbing. “It’s a total mess.”

  “Glad to see some things haven’t changed,” I tease.

  “Except now that I’m a functioning adult, I can pay a cleaning service.” She winks.

  On top of the building, there’s a flat roof that Jules has transformed into a cute, eclectic garden. Colorful ceramic tubs are filled with cacti and succulents, and there’s a bright woven rug and a couple of old lawn chairs under the shade of a fringed umbrella. A couple of blocks away, the blue ocean sparkles. “I love it!” I exclaim, looking around.

  “You should see the fireworks on the fourth of July,” Jules says, kicking back in one of the chairs. “Best view on the Keys.”

  I take a seat and hold out my glass for her to pour the wine. “Just one,” I warn her. “I’m driving home.”

  Jules pours all the way to the brim. “You can crash here. If you can find the couch under all my crap, that is.”

  I laugh and lift my glass in a toast. “To reunions,” I say. She taps hers to mine. “And second chances,” I add. “Seriously, I’m so happy to see you again. And I can’t believe the bakery; it looks amazing. I should have known you’d wind up doing something like this. You always loved baking. You managed to get half your grades raised just bringing the teachers those amazing brownies at the end of every semester.”

  Jules grins. “Remember when Mr Finnigan suggested I add something ‘special’ to the mix for him?”

  I gasp. “Oh my god. That’s right! You just baked a regular batch—”

  “And charged him double!” Jules laughs. “He was staring at the walls all afternoon, thinking he was high.”

  I shake my head, loving the memories. “It was a fun time. So what did you do after high school?”

  “Hung around Pelican Key for a while.” Jules kicks off her shoes. “I didn’t really know what I wanted to do just yet, but culinary school seemed better than being stuck in a library for another four years. So I saved up enough and moved to Miami for a few years. Partied too much, kissed a lot of frogs. I worked in some kitchens and catering companies, then figured I could do a better job of it myself, so I decided to move back here and start my cupcake empire.”

  “It looks like it’s going well for you. I’m so glad. You deserve it.”

  “I do, don’t I?” Jules grins, contented, and I laugh.

  “You really haven’t changed a bit.”

  “You either.” Jules looks me over. “Except you finally got rid of that ratty old denim jacket and grew out your bangs.”

  “My bangs!” I groan. “Who
ever told me those were a good idea?”

  “That would be me,” Jules winces. “Sorry, my bad.”

  “You’re forgiven.”

  I sit back and gesture for the cake platter. “Come on, don’t hold out on me. Let’s see what ten years and your twisted genius brain have whipped up.”

  Jules holds it out with a flourish. “May I present to you, chai cake with a cinnamon buttercream frosting; lemon bomb surprise, with lemon curd filling and a raspberry coulis, and double chocolate hangover cake. That’s my favorite,” she adds.

  I take the chocolate, and bite into layers of fluffy cake and rich frosting.

  “Oh my god,” I mumble through my mouthful of pure heaven. “This. Is. Ridic.”

  “Totes.” Jules laughs. “You like it?”

  “I love!” I devour the whole thing in three bites. “It’s better than sex!”

  “Well, that answers my next question.” Jules gives me a wicked look, and scoops frosting up with her finger. “No Mr. Austen on the scene to warm those lonely New York City nights?”

  “Nope. Not even close.” I take another cake. “You?”

  “No one special,” she shrugs. “Nobody worth mentioning, anyway.”

  “You know Wes is married now?” I grin, reminded of her high school hook up. “And police chief.”

  “I know!” she laughs. “They invited me to the wedding. His wife is nice, she was a couple of years behind us in school.” Jules pauses, and gives me a look.

  I know her well enough to be able to figure this one out.

  “Yes, I’ve seen Luke.”

  “And what was that like?”

  “And nothing. It was fine. He’s moved on, we both have. Just two mature adults going their separate ways.” I avoid her gaze, but best friendship is a two way street. Jules narrows her eyes.

  “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

  “Nope. What’s this flavor in the frosting again?” I try to change the subject.

  “Cinnamon, and you’re not getting off the hook so easily. Spill,” she demands.

  Maybe it’s the wine, or the sugar rush, or the fact I’m just so glad to be back with my old friend, but the wall of denial I’ve been building comes crumbling down.

  “He kissed me,” I admit.

  “What?” Jules’s screech echoes halfway to Miami.

  “Shh, it’s not that big a deal! OK, it was,” I sigh, “A couple of weeks ago, my first night back in town. It was epic, and hot, and made me question every single life choice I’ve made since I was eighteen, but it meant nothing.”

  “Right,” Jules smirks. “Because epic and hot is nothing.”

  “You know what I mean! It was… nostalgia. Old habits, you know? Anyway, looked like he regretted it right away. He hightailed out of there, and never looked back. I’ve seen him around since then, but he’s acting like it never happened. Like he couldn’t care less.”

  “What about you?” Jules fixes me with a knowing look. “How much could you care?”

  I shrug. “It doesn’t make a difference either way. It’s the past, remember? There’s no point in holding on to something that’s long gone.”

  “Because two weeks ago is such a long time.” Jules smirks.

  I roll my eyes. “You’re never going to shut up about it now, are you?”

  “Luke and Ginny, sitting in a tree,” she starts, singsong.

  I throw a cupcake at her.

  “Hey! Easy on the goods, babe.” Jules catches it, and then licks frosting off her hand. “K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” she finishes with a grin.

  I sigh, settling back in the lounge chair. “It wasn’t the kissing that was the problem, it was everything that came next.”

  “Love, and marriage, and the baby carriage?”

  “Yup.” I shake my head. “We were babies ourselves back then. God, I look at photos sometimes, and can’t believe how young we all were. What were we doing, thinking we had life all figured out?”

  Jules smiles. “Remember that time you wanted to get your ears pierced in eighth grade, only you didn’t want your aunts knowing because they’d make a whole big deal?”

  “Rae would have done them herself over the kitchen sink,” I laugh.

  “Right, so we got the genius idea of hitchhiking up to Marathon—”

  “You got the genius idea,” I interrupt.

  “Details!” she waves a hand. “Anyway, we wound up in that dodgy mall kiosk, with that guy—”

  “The moustache guy!”

  “With the little beady eyes. And he didn’t numb your skin or anything, he just grabbed that big hole-punch machine.”

  I wince at the thought. “No warning, nothing. Just bang, bang, done. It hurt like hell! And he did them too close,” I reach up to touch my plain gold studs.

  “And then your aunts gave us the biggest lecture when we got back. They convinced me you’d caught hepatitis or something. To this day, I still quiz my tattoo guy about sterilizing his needles.”

  I sit up. “You got a tattoo? What? Where?”

  Jules twists around and pulls down the strap of her tank top, revealing a tiny pair of lucky seven dice.

  “Cute!”

  “You mean trashy.” She smiles. “My mom flipped. Even though I’m nearly thirty, she still treats me like I’m a kid. Every time I go to visit, she lectures me about settling down.”

  “Mine are the opposite,” I laugh. “Rae wants me to go have group orgies with some band in the back of a tour bus, the way they did when they were young.”

  “Your aunts are the best.” Jules takes another sip of wine. “But things are good, with the business and New York? I figure they must be, for you to be put in charge of a show like this.”

  “Fingers crossed. I thought it would be a big opportunity for me, but now I think there’s just as much chance of the whole thing going up in smoke.”

  “Really?” Jules looks disappointed. “Call me a sucker, but I thought Pixie and Clyde really were in love.”

  “I did, too, but now I’m not so sure.” I pause. “But I guess it’s hard to see much of anything with the cameras in their faces all the time. I couldn’t live like that. It’s crazy.”

  “I can’t wait to see.”

  “You’ll get a front row seat,” I promise. “Prepare to have your entire life taken over by the production. They’ll be elbow deep in cake batter before the end of the week, I’m promising you.”

  “Yeah baby,” she grins. “Bring it on! Rock-n-Roll cakes is going to milk that publicity for all it’s worth. They’ll be lining up around the block to taste my special wedding line. What do you think about Pixie’s sweet strawberry cupcakes, and Clyde’s rock star bourbon cream?”

  “I think you and Marcie are going to get along just fine.” I laugh, and hold out my empty glass. “Time for a refill!”

  We hang out on the roof until sunset, catching up and reminiscing about old times. Jules orders in Thai food, and the hours fly by in a warm glow of nostalgia and friendship. It feels so good to be back together again. It’s like we’ve barely skipped a beat.

  “I’ll let you know when we need to film,” I promise, as she sees me off with a massive box of cakes. “But you should come up and visit sooner, see the madness for yourself.”

  “I can’t wait,” Jules hugs me. “And you keep me in the loop about what’s happening up there. If Luke Porter so much as looks in your direction, I want to know.”

  “The looking I can cope with.” I give a wry smile. “It’s when he touches me that there’s trouble.”

  “Drama, drama, drama,” she beams. “Oh, to be seventeen all over again.”

  “No thanks,” I laugh, getting into my car. “Give me age and wisdom any day!”

  I make my way back through Key West and onto the highway again, but as I drive over the dark ocean causeway, I wonder if that’s really true. Sure, I feel settled now, at ease with myself in a way I never did when I was younger, but I’m missing something too: that reckless curiosity tha
t would see me take off hitchhiking with Jules when we were too young to know any better, or break curfew with Luke in the backseat of his car, steaming up the windows. Everything felt more vivid back then, discovering life and love for the first time. Now, I feel like I play it safe, watching my step and weighing my options, because I know there are real consequences to my actions. Back then, I leapt without thinking twice, and although I look back on it now with amazement, there’s still something to envy in that sense of freedom and possibility that only comes from youth.

  The miles slip by, but I’m about twenty miles south of Pelican Key Cove, driving through swampland and marshes, when my engine starts making a weird rattling noise.

  “No, no, don’t quit on me now,” I plead, slowing down. “Just a little further, we’re almost there.”

  But my old car doesn’t care about getting me home. After another few hundred feet, the rattles turn to a wheezing choke, and then finally, it goes ahead and quits on me. I manage to pull over off the side of the road before it lets out a spurt of steam and falls silent. Dead.

  “Come on!”

  It’s almost midnight now, and the road is totally empty. I grab my phone to call for help, but I’ve only got two percent battery life. I check my bag, looking for my spare charger, but then I remember: I loaned it to Theo this morning before I left.

  Crap.

  I don’t know if I’ve got enough juice to look up a tow truck number and make the call, so I text my aunts instead.

  ‘Car broke down. On Overseas Highway just outside Duck Key. Send a tow pls!”

  My phone barely manages to send it before the screen goes dark.

  Silence.

  I look around. I’m in swampland here, with no buildings or lights visible for miles around. The air is sticky and humid, and all I can hear are the crickets, and the distant sound of the ocean. Except…

  I squint as headlights come into view on the road ahead. Yes! I quickly scramble out of the car, and wave my arms for help at the side of the road. “Over here!” I call.