Always the Baker, Finally the Bride (41 page)

“And make sure it has a guest room,” Sherilyn chimed in. “Because if you think you’re going to completely miss out on the first year of your goddaughter’s life . . .” She paused, her turquoise eyes round as saucers. “Wait, we’re going to have to speed up the christening, Andy. We have to have it before they leave!”

Andy chuckled and rubbed Sherilyn’s arm. “Focus, honey.”

“The thing is . . . you don’t
have
to go for a whole year,” she told them, and she looked around at the others. “I mean, there’s nothing saying it has to be a whole year, right?”

“You can go for three months, six months, or even a year if you want to,” Georgiann added. “But you
really must
go.”

“This is . . . too much,” Jackson stated.

“It’s
nawt
,” Madeline corrected in her low southern drawl. “It’s our wedding gift,
sugah
. From all of us . . . to the two of you.”

Norma rounded the table and stood behind them, touching their shoulders. “Build your ‘Once Upon a Time.’ Let us help you do that. We so want to be part of it.”

Emma couldn’t help herself. Propelled by pure emotion, she jumped up from her chair and hugged Norma, rocking her from side to side. When they parted, she turned toward the group of them, tearful and emotional.

“Who
does
this kind of thing?” she cried. “Every one of you . . . you’re so precious to us. This is over-the-top ridiculous that you’ve put your heads together and done this for us.”

“So you accept?” Susannah asked them.

Emma’s gaze went straight to Jackson. As he looked up at her, she could almost hear the
click
of their eyes locking. It only took a moment for her to read his answer right there, swimming around in the warm, chocolate pools she knew so well.

“We accept,” she said.

Hugs and kisses and good wishes flowed around the table in a sweet wave, engulfing the new couple. She could hardly believe what had swept her away, and she finally turned to Jackson and asked the question without speaking a word.

Is this really happening?

“I know,” he replied, shaking his head. “We’re . . . 
going to Paris
!”

Despite the wrinkles leading up to the day, Jackson had to admit that the wedding itself had bordered on flawless. All of the people they’d thought wouldn’t make it had somehow managed to come, and every intimate detail of the ceremony and reception had added to the overall perfection.

And this new surprise!—the raised hands of an entire family of support, holding back the challenges, stopping time in order to send them on the adventure they’d been dreaming about for so long—it was almost too much to believe. He wondered if he might wake up tomorrow morning and realize he’d been reading some fairy tale novel or dreaming about such a well-coordinated send-off.

His beautiful bride had danced with her father, who looked fairly good considering he’d left the hospital just that afternoon . . . The
menu, if even possible, had turned out to exceed the original one on the night of the opening . . . Russell had sung to them from the stage, Ben Colson accompanying him . . . The exquisite cake had been cut and enjoyed . . . Most of the guests had said their good-byes, and just a remnant remained behind to toast the couple once more.

“It’s been a perfect night,” he whispered into Emma’s ear as she clung to him.

“A week in Savannah, just the two of us,” she murmured back at him, her face buried in the fold of his neck so that he felt the reverberation of her words against his skin. “And when we return, we’ll start making our plans for
Paris
. It’s like a dream.”

Her shoes had been discarded somewhere around the time that she’d danced with Russell to a cranked-up version of The Animals’ “We Gotta Get Out of This Place” from the variety of CDs Fee had brought along to play after Ben Colson packed up and left. And now, to the tune of “A Whiter Shade of Pale,” they swayed from side to side, Emma’s bare feet on top of his shoes while he took the steps for them both. He imagined it to be somewhere past midnight, but he had no idea how far past.

Emma moaned softly into his ear before humming along with the song. “I love you so much,” she cooed as the music faded to a close.

Before he could reply, the first beats of the next musical selection elicited a wail from Sherilyn, and the next thing Jackson knew, they’d been mobbed to the tune of Bob Seger’s “Rock and Roll Never Forgets.” He recalled that Russell had sung it to Sherilyn at one of her wedding receptions, not long after they’d first met.

Every member of the group of stragglers hit the dance floor around them—Sherilyn and Andy . . . Devon and Carly . . . Audrey and J.R . . . Kat and Russell . . . Fee and Sean—now
dancing solo around them, just one large band of merry partygoers, most of the women barefoot, all of the men with their ties loosened and jackets strewn over random chairs.

The joy on Emma’s face as she hopped from atop his feet thrilled Jackson to the core. He watched her as she danced with J.R., then Fee, then moved on to Sherilyn. The two women embraced, and their laughter rang like bells accompanying the melody of the music.

These people had somewhere along the line become their own inner circle. These were the people they had come to love, the people they trusted the most, would probably grow old alongside. Each one of them had wandered through the doors of The Tanglewood at some point, preordained, destined to become their . . . 
family
. His heart surged into the depths of it.

Emma found her way back to him and wrapped her arms around Jackson’s neck.

“Hey!” she exclaimed.

“Hey,” he returned as she pressed against him.

“Remember when I told you . . . that I’d be . . . 
worth the wait
?”

Jackson pulled back slightly and looked into Emma’s brown eyes. “Yeaaah.”

“Well, here’s the thing. Your wait is over, my friend.”

He stared at her blankly until she offered him her hand. And the instant that he grasped it, she took off running for the door. No need to think twice. Jackson joined her, stride for stride, as they flew from the ballroom and raced down the corridor, all the way to the elevators.

But as the elevator doors slipped open, they paused and looked at one another seriously.

The image of Morton and his pig, Justin, flashed before Jackson’s eyes. But Emma said it first.

“Yeah. Umm, let’s take
the stairs
.”

Bonnie Cordova flipped through the afternoon’s mail while sitting at her kitchen table.

“Bill. Bill. Advertisement. Bill.”

The final envelope in the pile bore a familiar crest. It had come from The Tanglewood Inn back in Roswell, Georgia.

She tore it open and removed an engraved notecard, one of those specialty cards people used to thank their wedding guests. But she hadn’t given them a gift . . .

Bonnie,

Jackson and I were so happy you could attend our wedding and share in our joy. And I can’t thank you enough for appearing at just the right moment to help me make the decision about our cake! The choice had been dogging me for weeks on end, and your input helped punctuate a perfect day for us.

I’ve enclosed a little thank-you gift . . . but remember . . . it’s a secret. You’re only the third
person on the planet who knows this secret, and I’m trusting you to keep it.

All my love,

Emma Travis Drake

Bonnie unfolded the piece of paper tucked inside and immediately began to laugh. And the laughter morphed into a full-on shriek as she called, “Ben! Ben, she sent me the recipe! . . . Ben!!”

Emma Rae’s Award-Winning
Crème Brûlée Wedding Cake
A 6-Step Process

Step 1of 6: Crème Brûlée

Note: Prepare 24 hours ahead of time
.

1 tablespoon vanilla bean paste (Lorann Gourmet)
2 cups heavy cream
8 egg yolks
¼ cup granulated sugar

Stir vanilla bean paste into the cream in a
heavy-bottomed saucepan.
Bring JUST to a boil and remove from heat immediately
to cool slightly.
Note: The cream must still be somewhat warm for the next step
.

Whisk egg yolks and sugar together until mixed well.
Note: The fewer bubbles, the better
.

Whisking constantly, VERY SLOWLY pour the hot cream
into the eggs.

Line two pans (the same size as your cake will be) with
non-stick aluminum foil (nonstick side OUT).
Note: It is essential to get a smooth, bubble-free lining
on the bottom and to make sure the wrap stays up on the sides
.
Divide
and pour the custard mixture into the two
prepared cake pans.

Bake at 210 degrees for about 40 minutes,
until the custard is BARELY QUIVERY in the middle.
Note: The mixture will be firmer than a regular crème brûlée
mixture, and it will not need a water bath
.

When the layers have cooled, stretch cling wrap across the
tops, and freeze in the pan.

Step 2 of 6: Brown Sugar Crunch “Brulee” Layers

½ stick (¼ cup) unsalted butter
½ cup firmly packed brown sugar
2 tablespoons water

Cut two parchment paper rounds to line the
bottom of two pans,
the same-size pans that the cakes will bake in.
Leave the parchment liners in the pans.

Combine the butter, brown sugar, and water in a
heavy-bottomed saucepan.
Boil to a temperature of 260 degrees.

Immediately divide the molten sugar mixture onto the
prepared parchment,
and quickly spread to the edges.
Allow the sugar to cool and harden.
Once it is cool, use a heavy spoon to tap the sugar, cracking
it into small pieces.
Note: Take care NOT to disassemble the circle. The smaller the pieces, the better
.