Worth

Chapter 12 (Pt. 1)

The combination of Violet's self pity and self loathing made for the deepest sleep and rudest awakening respectively. Still, she put on a brave face, determined not to give in to the disappointment and uneasiness the night before had caused. There was nothing she could do about it now. Today, she had cupcakes to taste. What better to make the medicine go down if despair should set in? And it was looming.

A small bakery in the city's north end was gaining steady popularity thanks to its inside-out cupcakes – essentially a thick doughnut with an icing filled dent instead of a hole. The gimmick was causing quite the stir with its Southern inspired flavours, specifically the house specialty, the Mint Julep, and Violet was bound by professional duty to audition the potential vendor for the Grand by paying the shop a Sunday visit and sampling one of everything. For second and third opinions, Olivia and their mother, Evelyn, had been enlisted. They honked so loudly when she stepped out into the crisp, gentle light of the early autumn morning that Violet thought her hair moved. She slid into the backseat and kissed them on their cheeks.

"So?" Evelyn asked. "Details?"

"It's called Buttermilk Baby. The owner is from Louisiana originally, but she married up here."

"Mom means about last night," Olivia said, urging her sister gleefully through the rear view.

"I don't want to talk about it," Violet said.

"Like that's going to fly," her mother said.

"I don't want to talk about it yet," she said, a line she used repeatedly despite coaxing and protests all the way up to Thorncliffe to comfort herself with someone else's wedding dessert. The secret was in the buttermilk from a local farm. Violet wanted to scream.

The quaint place was bustling. The rich scents of vanilla and cocoa and pralines hung above them like a child's dream. Mel, the owner, made sure to greet Violet warmly by saying, "I'm gonna stuff your face!" She was tall and broad with a sunny smile full of big white sugar-cube teeth; her teased brunette bouffant seemed to grow higher on its own as she swished from table to table, from the front to the kitchen, like a giant bee to buttercups. In short order she served up some sample platters with slices of six different specialties: French Quarter Vanilla, Double Delight Chocolate, Rum Butter Pecan, Lemon Sugar, Maple Walnut, and the signature Mint Julep. It was over a yellow icing flower that Violet caved and told her mom and sister all the gruesome details of the case of mistaken identities.

"Oh no," Olivia and Evelyn gasped. Then they groaned. Then all three sat horrified, mortified, in the last place a person would expect to, at a frilly pink and yellow table, feet dangling from an over-sized candy striped booth. "Oh no."

"Oh yes," Violet said gravely.

"Did he try and stop you?" Olivia asked.

"I made it pretty clear there was no point."

"And I bet you apologized."

"If I had a tail it would have been tucked."

"Are you going to call John?" Evelyn asked.

"Why? So I can prove that I'm a gold digger? It'll be all over the wires that James and I had a date. Then he'll know that I know he inherited the lion's share of the estate. He'll think I dumped James for the richer relative."

"Impossible. He's gotten to know you," her mother reassured her.

"I left him with a pretty good impression, all right."

"You made a mistake. Anyone could see how," Olivia was adamant. "But he's the one who's been rejected so it's all on you."

Mel arrived with coffees and lemonade. "Sorry it took so long, but it's fresh," she said.

"Mel, these are incredible," said Violet.

"Is this comfort food guaranteed?" Olivia asked.

"Lemme guess. Men troubles?" Mel snorted sympathetically. "I can always tell."

"Oh, you know," Olivia sighed, "Girl meets Boy. Girl rejects Boy because of his bad reputation. Girl finds out he's perfect after she sends him packing. That kind of thing."

"Oldest story in the world," Mel sighed. With a knowing half-laugh she scooted Olivia over into the booth and sat down. "My friend Ginny Knokes once let a real nice guy slip through her fingers because he was super-thin and this thoroughly jealous bitch, Barbara Sloot told her he was anorexic." Mel's down-home accent ended nearly every sentence with the upward lilt of a question.

"Of course it wasn't true. He was just naturally wiry. Only if you ask someone what their favourite food is and they answer consommé, you're gonna take that as some sort of proof, aren't ya? Well, anyway, then that piece of work told the guy that Ginny didn't like him because she thought he was too fat. And do you know what happened?"

"He became anorexic for real?" Olivia guessed.

"Nope, an alcoholic!"

Olivia kicked Violet under the table.

"He wound up marrying that nasty, no-good Barbara Sloot and she made his life a living hell. Is that not the saddest thing you ever heard? It was years until Ginny found out what had happened. I'll never forget it because she'd just gotten this awful perm. But the point is two people's lives got messed up because no one asked a simple question. You have to go to the source."

"Mel," Evelyn said, "you are wise and profound."

"Well I do what I can, but if I was truly gifted, I would have invested in orthotics before the Lord took my arches away. Now if you ladies will excuse me. Did you all want syrup for those?"

"For the cupcakes?" Olivia asked, mildly concerned.

"I think we're okay," Violet said.

"Just let me know." Mel winked and was gone.

Evelyn stared at Violet, nodding her head sagely.

"What?" her daughter asked with a weary smile.

"Go to the source, Violet."

"I'm sure the source has had enough of me," she said.

"Never mind," said Evelyn. "Call that Elizabeth and get his number."

"So the whole family will know? I can't."

"Lie and tell him you're rich now too!" was Olivia's advice.

"Go to the source, Violet. Go and talk to John."

Violet slumped. "It's impossible."

"What's the worst that could happen?"

"That bitch, Barbara Sloot, for one thing," Olivia suggested.

Violet shrugged.