Patricia turned from haughty to pale in a second. “What does this mean, Jenny?”
Mom, it’s easy. Jenny shouted, “I heard you on the phone with Donna.” “You said you ‘weren’t going to let a cake steal the spotlight’ and joked that a ‘accidental elbow’ would save the day.”
The yard was quiet enough to hear sparrows chirping. Daniel gripped my hand, his warmth a solace in this familial drama.
Jenny was just ahead the whole time. They ordered two identical cakes from the bakery to keep Patricia away from the actual one.
The cake that splashed our yard was a ruse.
Patricia never disputed it.
She stormed away, her pink shirt covered in buttercream and cake crumbs, saying she was “misunderstood”.
After cutting the genuine cake, the vivid blue layers exposed our secret. It’s boy. Our boy.
Cheers and confetti filled the backyard.
Patricia’s shocking departure was followed by three days of silence. No calls, texts, or passive-aggressive Facebook posts. It was lovely!
She brought a grocery store apology cake and a sorrowful mixed flower bouquet.
Her “I’ve been reflecting” speech was shaky but something.
We gave her another chance. No, not for her, but for our peace.
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