Before You Say I Do

“everyone knows you’re not married. Is it hard working in the wedding business as a dating woman?” Sheila White, a famous TV host asks me on her show. That’s right, her show. Me, Juliana Richards, at the age of 24, is one of the most famous wedding cake bakers ever.

I fiddle nervously with the diamond ring on my left hand. “My mother used to make wedding cakes for her friends and I would help. Ever since then I always wanted to make wedding cakes. Just dating really doesn’t affect that.”

“you’re so young to be an internationally known baker, how does it feel?”

“well, it can be stressful at times, I will admit. I always imagined a small bakery in a town where everyone knew everyone.”

“well, that is what you got.”

We both chuckle, “yeah, I guess it is. The world just comes to it now. When I was a teenager I had this plan. I was going to graduate, go to college and get my business degree and then work with helping women through hard times in their lives. Becoming a baker was my mid-life job change. You know, around 40 or so.”

“yeah, I know what you mean.”

“But, after graduation I went to Italy and like every American girl fantasizes, I fell in love with an Italian guy. When I got back to the U.S. after the summer, I found out I was pregnant. Because my parents died just months before, and then with the baby, I decided to postpone school. I guess I really owe it to unprotected sex in Italy. Without it I would have kept on with my plan.” The crowd laughs at this.

“so you’ve loved someone other than Jon?”

I laugh, “yes, I have loved someone other than Jon. First love never really disappears, I think it just hides away until it’s needed.”

“very true,” she says. “are you still in contact with your daughters father?”

I take a deep breath. I had never really talked about Adam. With the media or just family. He left for Italy and none of us saw him again. Well, Katelyn did obviously and so did Nick when he moved there a couple months ago. But as for Finn, Dakota, and I, we didn’t.

“no, actually, I’m not. He doesn’t even know he has a daughter.” I lie. It seemed as though I had to do that a lot lately.

“your daughter, she’s six now, correct?”

“correct.”

“has she ever asked about him?”

“um, yes. We’ve had conversations about him, many actually. I tell her stories about that summer and show her pictures of him. So even though he’s not here with us, I make sure she knows who her father is. If some day she wants to go find him, I’ll be there supporting her.”

“not like many single parents.”

“no.”

“okay, we have time for one more question. The world has been curious for awhile now,” really? The world? “what’s up with the diamond ring on your left hand? Has something moved forward between Jon and you?”

I smile, examining the ring for a moment. “It was my mothers engagement ring actually. When she died I started wearing it.” I lie.

“well, it was great getting to know more about you and your life Juliana. Hopefully we’ll see you back on this show.”

“I’d love that.” I reply.

“and we’re off!” someone in the back yells.

I take off my microphone and sigh. Sheila leans over the chairs, “you’re one of the best I’ve interviewed.”

“best at what?” I ask her.

“at lying.” She gets up and walks backstage.

Lying. I was good at lying. Is that really good? Or is it bad? I lost the love of my life because I lied. I got to where I am today because I lied. I kept my life a secret to the whole world because I lied. But what’s more important? Losing the guy you love, or being famous because you lost the guy you love?

I sigh and get out of the chair, leaving the TV station behind. Jon greets me with a hug at the exit.

“you did great sweetie.”

I fake a smile, “thanks.”

About a year ago I had finally decided to give Jon a chance. It was obvious by then that Adam wasn’t coming back and I decided that I needed to move on. Though Jon hasn’t really helped in that area. Once we started dating, I started acting happy. Nothing about me is real anymore, to anyone.

I smile, only for it to be fake. I laugh, and joke, and play with Katie only to want to crawl back in bed and cry. I make up back stories and tell lies to the world because I don’t want anyone knowing how weak and vulnerable I am.

Most of all, I don’t want Adam seeing how much he can affect me.

Jon drops me off at the bakery after I told him I had some things to finish up there. Also, my car was still there and I didn’t want to leave it over night.

I had gotten an apartment about six months after the wedding. It was two bedroom, just enough space for Katie and I. Of course I have enough money to upgrade to something much nicer, but I like where I am right now. Small and simple. Jon has his own apartment closer to downtown, so he doesn’t spend the night too often.

“hey stacy!” I call out, letting her know I’m back from the interview. She was my only employee, I hired her about a month after I fully took over the bakery. She was in her thirties and, like me, grew up baking with her mother. Even though she had no professional background, I hired her because she knew what she was doing. And learned quickly if she didn’t.

Stacy appears from the kitchen, holding a frosting bag in her hands. “how’d it go?” she asks.

“just like any other interview.”

She nods. Stacy didn’t know all about my past, but more than I told most people. I thought that if we were going to work together, she might as well know why I may not be too fun to be around.

“someone called. My hands were full so I let it go to the machine.” She informs me, “I’ve got to go finish this before the frosting warms up too much.” I nod and walk into my small office. Indeed my message machine was blinking a new message. I press play as I set down my stuff.

“Hello, my name is Jacqueline DiGerlando and I live in Italy. My son is getting married in August and I wanted to surprise him and his soon-to-be wife with a wedding cake made personally by Juliana Richards. I was wondering if there was any chance you could come out here to make it. All expenses will be paid for of course. And there will be a professional kitchen for you to work in. Well, when you get this please call me back at ***-****.” The phone clicked and the message ended.

I fall back against my wall and slide down to the floor, feeling ill. I couldn’t say no to this. The press would have a field day, asking me questions left and right and I’d have no answers. If it was a surprise though, than I wouldn’t be seeing him. I’d be there making a cake and then leave, right?

I pick up my phone and dial the number. “hello?” a woman answers.

“hello, is this Mrs. DiGerlando?”