A Piece of Cake
The civic center was crowded when Larry entered,‭ ‬the cake-box in his arms blocking part of his vision and making it difficult to walk.‭ ‬He glanced around uncertainly.‭ “‬Where’s the Feldstein Bar Mitzvah‭?” ‬he called out.
‭“‬He’s right over there,‭” ‬a man told him,‭ ‬pointing toward the corner.
Larry knitted his forehead for a moment,‭ ‬then gave a mental shrug and half-strode,‭ ‬half-staggered to the table draped in blue,‭ ‬where a young boy in a yarmulke sat surrounded by fawning adults.‭ ‬They turned when Larry approached,‭ ‬and some immediately began to applaud.
Larry set the box down and cleared his throat.‭ “‬On behalf of Brown and White Cake Bakery,‭ ‬may we extend our congratulations‭ ‬on your---‭“ ‬he lifted up the lid while he spoke,‭ ‬and now stared down at the cake in horror.‭ “—‬wedding.‭”‬
There was a murmur of confusion,‭ ‬and some of the adults began to glare at him.‭
“Uh,‭ ‬I’m sorry,‭” ‬Larry stammered.‭ “‬The boxes were right next to each other.‭ ‬I must have grabbed the wrong one‭…”
Just as he was formulating his apology,‭ ‬the door of the center swung open.‭ ‬All heads turned towards the entrance as a younger man with a‭ ‬2nd cake box raced toward the table like an angel on a heavenly mission.
‭“‬Larry,‭ ‬for crying out loud‭!” ‬Gary chided,‭ ‬panting,‭ ‬while setting the other cake on the table with a soft,‭ ‬papery‭ ‘‬thump‭’‬.‭ “‬Didn’t you see me following you‭ ‬for twenty miles‭? ‬You grabbed the wrong cake,‭ ‬you‭—“ ‬His eyes flicked to the young boy.‭ “—‬idiot.‭”‬ He opened his box.‭ “‬Here’s the cake.‭”
They,‭ ‬and everyone else present,‭ ‬peered down at the cake in the box.
‭“‬That’s not the right cake either‭!” ‬Larry snapped.
Gary squinted at it,‭ ‬and after some scrutiny,‭ ‬his eyebrows climbed up into his hair.‭ ‬He straightened.‭ “‬Well,‭ ‬they’re both blue and white,‭” ‬he sputtered‭; “‬they look almost alike‭!”
Larry sighed.
‭“‬At least it’s more appropriate,‭” ‬Gary decided.
‭“‬Appropriate‭?!” ‬Larry echoed,‭ ‬his face the picture of incredulity.
‭“‬Well,‭ ‬yeah,‭” ‬Gary defended.‭ “‬It’s the right colors,‭ ‬and it’s for a boy…and I guess in a way,‭ ‬you could make the argument that---‭“
“It’s a‭ ‬christening cake‭!” ‬Larry shouted,‭ ‬causing the forgotten customers to‭ ‬step back from him.‭ ‬ “It’s got‭ ‬crosses on it‭! ‬This isn’t appropriate for a Jewish Bar Mitzvah‭!” ‬He gave the other man a shriveling glare.
‭“‬We can pretend they’re lower-case T’s,‭” ‬The other man suggested.
The glare melted into a blank expression.‭ “‬T’s.‭”
“Yeah,‭ ‬you know.‭ ‬For‭ ‘‬Torah‭’‬,‭ ‬I guess.‭”
Larry frowned.‭ “‬Wouldn’t‭ ‘‬Torah‭’ ‬be uppercase‭?” ‬He started to glance around the room,‭ ‬as though seeking assistance from the crowd.
His partner shrugged.‭ “‬Talmud‭?” ‬he suggested.
‭“‬Look,‭ ‬I’m sorry about this,‭” ‬Larry said to the man who seemed,‭ ‬by looks and proximity,‭ ‬to be the boy’s father.‭ “‬We’ll give you one of the cakes for free.‭”
“So what’ll it be,‭ ‬Kid,‭” ‬Gary asked the boy,‭ ‬grinning like a showman.‭ “‬Do you want to be married or christened‭?”
The boy smiled and started to consider the cakes,‭ ‬when suddenly the door flew open again,‭ ‬and Claire charged into the room.‭
“I’ve got the cake‭! ‬I’ve got the cake‭!” ‬She yelled.‭ ‬She nearly skidded across the room,‭ ‬barely catching her footing as she darted through the parting crowd.‭ ‬With a triumphant‭ “‬Here‭!”‬,‭ ‬she placed her box on the table beside the other cakes and yanked the lid‭ ‬back.
Her two male associates stared at the pastry,‭ ‬their heads tilted.
‭“‬That’s an Easter cake,‭” ‬Larry said,‭ ‬stating what was obvious to everyone who could see.
Gary squinted again.
‭“‬Why do we have an Easter cake‭?” ‬Larry continued.‭ “‬It’s‭ ‬August‭!”
Claire stared perplexedly down at the cake as though seeing it for the first time.‭ “‬I---I don’t know‭…” ‬she replied.
‭“‬It’s an Easter cake‭…” ‬Gary echoed,‭ ‬belatedly,‭ ‬still staring at the multicolored confection.
‭“‬We’re very,‭ ‬very sorry,‭” ‬Larry repeated to the assembled crowd.‭ “‬Things aren’t usually this---stupid.‭ ‬Tell you what‭; ‬you can have any of these cakes for free,‭ ‬or just pay for one and we’ll give you the other two.‭ ‬Pro Bono.‭ ‬Does that sound okay‭?‬”
The three climbed into their van,‭ ‬the back of which was now empty.‭ ‬The long line of cars leading up to the civic center made it easy to justify parking a block away,‭ ‬out of sight of the building.‭ “‬You see‭?” ‬said Larry,‭ “‬What did I tell you‭? ‬Who needs ads‭?” ‬He waved a filled-out survey slip under his partners‭’ ‬noses.‭ “‬Quality product‭; ‬excellent resolution of problems,‭” ‬he quoted.‭ “‬Will use again,‭ ‬will recommend to others.‭”
He set the paper down and slid his key into the ignition.‭ ‬The van rumbled.‭ “‬They especially loved that chocolate wedding-cake,‭” ‬he continued,‭ ‬glancing in the rear-view mirror,‭ “‬and some of those people look like they’ll be getting married fairly soon.‭”
“You were right,‭ ‬Hon,‭” ‬Claire admitted as the van pulled out of its spot and turned onto the road.
‭“‬So,‭ ‬now what‭?” ‬asked Gary.‭ “‬We do this again tomorrow‭?”
Larry shook his head slightly,‭ ‬keeping his eyes on the road.‭ “‬Nah,‭” ‬he said,‭ “‬now we cool it for a while.‭ ‬Business as usual.‭ ‬Then in---‭“ ‬He mentally counted.‭ “‬---three and a half weeks,‭ ‬we hit the Gladstone anniversary party.‭ ‬Sound good‭?”
The others nodded their agreement as they all sped away.
