Micah

Did I ever tell you how my life changed because of a piece of cake? In fact, you wouldn’t even be here without that cake.

How can a piece of cake make that much of a difference, Grandma?

It was an amazing cake. Five layers of the densest, most moist chocolate cake and in between each slab of cake were three distinct layers of filling: milk chocolate ganache, white chocolate buttercream and rich mocha cream. It was covered in the mocha cream and decorated with curls of bittersweet chocolate. Oh, my mouth waters just thinking about it!

Grandma! That’s not what I meant!

Well you see...first you have to understand: My grandfather and his wife Bethany were celebrating their seventieth wedding anniversary. Bethany was Grandpapa’s wife, but she was not my grandmother, although your great-aunt and I had always treated her as such since they’d gotten married before either of us was even born. Bethany had three children from her first marriage as well, but they had lived with their father and didn’t spend any time with Bethany. In fact, I had never met any of them until we all got together for the big anniversary.

….

I couldn’t wait to go home. Don’t get me wrong. I always loved spending time with Grandpapa and Grambeth. The problem was everyone else who was there. There were too many people in the house and I didn’t even really know any of them.

Beep.

I pulled my watch in front of my face. Great. Four a.m. and I hadn’t managed to sleep yet. The air felt stale with all the people crammed into the four guest bedrooms and even some of the little kids all piled together in the middle of the den. Sigh. I might as well give up and see if I can find something to eat, I decided.

Pulling on a sweater, I threaded my way past mother and my little sister and slipped out the door headed for the kitchen. Score! There was a large piece of that fantastic cake in the fridge. Eagerly I pulled it out, hip-checking the door shut while I grabbed a fork from the drainboard.

“I don’t suppose I could convince you to split that in half?”

The deep voice behind me almost had me dropping the plate.

“Watch it!” a hand reached around me to steady the plate. I turned around. It was one of my pseudo-cousins, Grambeth’s grandson.

“You’re...Micah, right?” I asked hesitantly. He was tall, well over six feet, and I felt dwarfed next to him. He grinned at me, his dark blond hair falling into his face. My fingers itched to brush it back from his eyes so I could see what color they were. “Got it in one. Shara right?” He was still leaning over my shoulder to steady the plate of cake.

I nodded, suddenly mute. Micah grinned wider. “So about that cake?”

My face heated up. “Sure,” I said, trying to hide the thumping of my heartbeat. He was so close and I didn’t have room to back away. “Grab a fork. I don’t think we need to get another plate dirty, do you?” He pulled a fork out the drainboard and I was able to slip past him.

From the guest room next to the kitchen, came an explosive sawing sound. I was pretty sure Grambeth’s brother was staying in that room. Micah confirmed it for me. “I have never understood how Auntie Marie can share a room with Uncle Martin. He has the most obnoxious snore in the universe!” I couldn’t help but giggle at that.

“Let’s go sit on the deck so we don’t bother anyone else.” I didn’t wait for a response; if he wanted any of the cake he’d have to follow me.

…

So what happened then Grandma? This is Grandaddy, right? Did you fall in love then?

Well, yes and no. Yes, Micah became your grandfather, but no we didn’t fall in love that night. At least I didn’t. Your Grandaddy would never tell me when he knew he was in love; he always liked to tease me that way.

So what happened? And why do you credit the cake for it?

Well that’s pretty obvious isn’t it? If we hadn’t both wanted that piece of cake, I might never have really met your grandfather. I might have continued dating and then married Todd Whitaker. I would have still had children of course, but they wouldn’t have been your father and your uncle Coby. I might have had little girls instead.

Everyone went home the next day. Micah and I exchanged numbers and emails, but really I didn’t expect anything of it. He lived in Washington State just outside of Seattle and I was going to college at Chapel Hill in North Carolina. It would have been difficult for us to live much further apart and still be in the same country unless he went to Alaska.

Your Grandaddy, though, he had other plans.

….

I’d barely gotten back to the dorms when Micah texted me so see if I’d made the trip alright. I thought it was sweet. Several times a week he would send me a text or an email. Sometimes it was this rambling monologue about some new project at work, sometimes it was just a funny picture. We grew close, even though we hadn’t seen each other again or even talked on the phone except when he called to sing me ‘happy birthday.’ It didn’t take long before I considered Micah to be one of my best friends.

When Todd broke up with me a few months later, Micah was the first person I told. The next day there was a knock on my door. My roommate answered the door, and after speaking with the person standing there slipped out to leave us alone. It was Micah, with a chocolate cake and news. The cake was to cheer me up. Even though there was no way it could be as good as the cake at Grandpapa and Grambeth’s anniversary, it was still an excellent cake from my favorite local bakery. The news was exciting and cheered me up more than the cake did. Micah had accepted a job offer at the bank branch not two blocks from the college and was in town to hunt for an apartment.

It was after he moved in that we started dating. When I left the dorms I moved in with Micah. Three years later, on the anniversary of our first date, he found someone to replicate that first cake that brought us together. And on top, almost hidden by a huge curl of chocolate, was a beautiful diamond ring.

….

So that’s the story of how a piece of cake changed my life. Today would have been our thirty-fourth wedding anniversary if he were still alive. I miss him so much, my little Michaela. You look just like him. Did you know your father named you for him?

You tell me that almost every time I come visit Grandma.

So I do. That’s okay. It helps me remember him. So why don’t you go get us each a piece of cake and a glass of milk?