197 - Trigg's Cakes
197 - Trigg's Cakes
I’m startin’ ta think that tha reason yeh keep doin’ dese weddin’s is joost fer me cakes. Yeh know me can make ‘em any time fer yeh. – Nessie
Trigg was waiting for the cake to be cut with the patience of a six-year-old who knows that they are getting a piece of cake as soon as their mom finished with whatever task they were doing. Needless to say, his patience was practically non-existent. This fed the amusement of the bride and her grooms as they contemplated the best way to cut each of the cakes. Sid continually rolled her eyes at her husband and his dramatics.
“I swear that you guys are going to make my father cry if you don’t let him have cake soon!” Charlotte declared with an amused laugh.
“Anyone else seeing the kid from the movie?” Chris held his hands out in front of him as if he were holding a plate. “Please, sir, may I have some more?”
“First off,” Camille said as Priscilla started to laugh and Chris swore loudly, “that’s Oliver Twist. He’s not some ‘kid from the movie.’ He’s an iconic character from Charles Dickens. Secondly, the line is ‘Please, sir, I want some more.’”
“Trust me,” Mitch grinned at his adoptive mother, “she knows that line well. Says it to Darkness all the time.”
Darkness kissed the top of Camille’s head before resting his dark chin on her blonde hair. “Sounds like our son is volunteering to watch his brothers tonight.”
“So, they can get their freak on,” their oldest son, Vin, told Trigg. “Brown chicken, brown cow.”
“At least they remember to put the pitchfork out,” Molly grinned at Nicki and her two men.
Camille’s daughter blushed brightly as she looked at the floor as the men on either side of her paled.
“It was one time, dad!” Priscilla said, holding up her pointer finger to indicate one.
“Was not talking about you, this time.”
“Oh?” she followed his line of sight and saw the trio standing at the edge of the crowd. “Oh. OH!”
“So, does that mean…?” Porthos asked.
“Mean what?” Trigg asked. “I’m down for great grandbabies.”
One man looked at the other who shrugged and said, “Might as well go out on a high note.”
“I say we wait for Trigg to be distracted by cake,” the first suggested.
Nessie laughed, “If dat’s all yeh need.” She stepped behind the counter of what was once the concierge desk for the hotel, but she had converted to a coffee kiosk. Coming around the other side of the desk turned into a coffee bar; she was carrying a plate of small cakes. “Dere yeh go, Trigg. Boys?”
“Works for me,” one said and the other agreed. Moving in front of their woman, they dropped down on one knee, and each pulled out a ring box.
Nicki’s dark eyes went wide, and her hands covered her mouth. From where they stood behind the cakes on the other side of the room, Priscilla and her handsome men could not hear what the other two men were saying. They could see her answer as she nodded, and they stood to embrace her.
Laughing, Zee looked from Camille to Priscilla and asked, “What is it with the two of you having proposals at your weddings?”
The two friends looked at each other and shrugged. Priscilla suggested, “Maybe we just like sharing our happiness.”
Scrapper kissed the top of Zee’s head that still sported her signature blue hair as one hand wrapped around her waist as the other held their sleeping two-year-old. “And I will be forever grateful.” Kissing the top of her head again, he murmured something and then walked towards the hall that led to the former reading nook.
As the newest generation continued to grow, the reading nook nursery was expanded around the corner. It now filled the entire back hallway and all the extracurricular activities that were formerly performed there were now relegated to the third floor where no one under the age of eighteen was allowed.
Priscilla glanced over at the video baby monitor that sat on the table with the cakes. Their baby lay in the bassinet in her onesie with the pacifier moving slightly in her mouth. She knew that as it started to move more, Emma would start to wake up, ready to eat. Just the thought of it had the sensation of her breasts filling with milk.
“Okay, enough stalling.” Priscilla declared as she shifted and hoped to God that the breast pads did their job. “Little miss will be waking up soon and wanting to nurse.”
“I don’t care how long you take now,” Trigg declared as he at the last bite of his first piece of cake. “Nessie, I absolutely love your cakes. If I didn’t love my sister so much, I’d try to run away with you. But I love my wife and I don’t have an industrial kitchen for you.”
“Nessie, I’m more than willing to discuss a custody arrangement with you,” Sid offered and Trigg looked at her in disbelief.
“You are not getting yourself a weekend hall pass for that young buck over at Scrappers place,” he declared handing the plate with the remaining cakes back to Nessie.
“Babes, I am old enough to be his grandmother. That fantasy is purely one sided. But if I get rid of you for a few hours, I’m living it out with my new friend in the drawer.”
“New friend?” he asked as Nessie placed the plate back in his hands.
“Yup,” she took his fork and prodded at the icing of the small cake that she thought was the Italian cream.
“Do I get to play with this new friend?”
Finally finding the cake that she wanted, she scooped up a bite on the fork and grinned at her husband. “I’m sure something could be arranged.”
Camille looked at her friend as she pointed at her parents, “My cabin is next to that.”
“And we’re between them,” Priscilla pointed at her parents and then Eliza and her husband, “and them.”
“I got you both beat,” Charlotte complained. “We’re in the middle of kid’s row and I just know that we’re going to get caught in a bad situation with someone walking in at the wrong time.”
“Not a thought that I want,” their oldest daughter complained.
“How do you think you got here, little girl?” Werewolf asked with a grin as he wrapped his arms around his wife.
“At least you don’t know where you were conceived at,” Camille rolled her eyes as her friend cut the top layer of the wedding cake. Her oldest sister offered a high five in between taking pictures and directing the other two photographers.
Priscilla laughed as Denver placed a small bite in her mouth. They all fed each other a small piece from each of the cakes. Afterwards, they tossed the garters and bouquet before Priscilla went upstairs to change out of her dress.
She was sitting in the glider with her infant; both of their eyes were drooping. Gentle hands took the baby as strong arms carried them to their room.