The Trials of Marriage & Cake

Charlie stood frozen as he noticed a young woman with spiral curls spilling over her brown doe eyes. He casually stepped towards her,

"Hello, Miss? Do you work here?"

The woman smiled, "Hi Charlie, we've been expecting you."

"You're the manager I spoke with, aren't you? Violet is it?" He reached out his hand tentatively.

"Don't sound so surprised. I run a tight ship around here."

Charlie blushed, "You... weren't what I was expecting."

"We have a lot to discuss with you being our new oversight manager here. Why don't we go get some lunch? I'm starving." She patted his shoulder and glided away.

Charlie spent the following weeks under Violet's spell. His wife of 30 years didn't like him at first. He was technically her boss at the factory which created and packaged homemade soaps nationally. (Violet has since spent the marriage reminding him who's the real boss). She appeared tough and led her staff with poise long surpassing her age. He saw a different side. She'd often bring him homemade desserts with a note beside them and leave it on his desk.

Relationships weren't allowed at the factory, so he switched to another facility. She'd admired his decision to put their relationship first. They slipped into roles and rituals so easily. Fridays were for movie nights, Sundays for strolling the boardwalk, and Saturdays were for cookouts with their families. Four years later, leaving the state was especially hard on Violet. They both enjoyed living in close proximity to their families. The couple's move was powered by Charlie's promotion to Regional Manager of Homemade Soaps & Co.

They eloped in June of '72 at the courthouse. Violet liked to get straight to the point. No frills, bells, or phony parties, she'd say. That was her personality. Charlie didn't need a big wedding with lavish meals, intricate decorations, or a long guest list. He only needed his wife-to-be. On the day they married, they walked hand in hand down the aisle. She wore a simple white silk gown and he dusted off an old tux. He brushed the curls off of her forehead and kissed it. She smacked his hand away and giggled. In that room, they made their vows which would carry them through their lives.

As the years passed, age and stress have proved difficult for the couple. Violet has been struggling with health issues causing her to shake. Her physical issues affected her mentally, too. Charlie noticed a change in her right away.

Every year, Violet enters into a baking contest, and every year she wins. This year was the biggest prize yet. The winner would receive a grand prize of $19,000 and a multi-page article in a top food magazine. Violet has planned all year for this contest, except her hands have gotten so shaky she can't compete. Charlie has tried everything to cheer her up. He's surprised her with dates, invited friends over, spoiled her with gifts, yet she still seemed disappointed.

He pulled out his calendar and marked the date of the baking competition. Twelve days left. Surely he could convince Violet to let him bake the cake. He ran scenarios through his head about talking to her. He often did this to prepare for their talks. He also did household chores to get in her good graces. He scrubbed dishes, took out the trash, and watered the plants.

"What's got you running around the house?" She reached for the salt and dropped it. She huffed, "I don't need any more bad luck."

"That baking competition is coming up. We should enter it together," Charlie pleaded.

She wouldn't look up to meet his eyes. "I told you it would not be possible this year. Don't you listen? My hands won't work right." Without notice, she began to cry. Violet was never a crier. She didn't cry over anything that wasn't as serious as a birth or death.

He wiped her tears away. "Let me do all the work. I'll bake the cake and enter it for you. We could win!"

She burst into laughter, "You couldn't follow a recipe if your life depended on it! The last thing I want to do is tarnish our name in the community." She patted his hand. "I appreciate the thought. It sure would be nice to win that money."

After she left to go to lunch with her friends, Charlie scoured their home for her recipe. He tipped over every room, flipped through all the books, and checked every square inch. It was nowhere around. Through the mess, he found a photo album. He picked it up and flipped through its pages. It was a chronicle of their time together. Thirty years was a long time to be married. Seeing the only photo taken during their elopement was enough to make him teary-eyed. They grew up together in a lot of ways. He pulled the picture out and turned it over, expecting scribbles of love notes.

2 cups flour, 2 cups sugar, 3/4 cup cocoa powder...

The recipe!! He jumped up and hit his head on a lampshade. He jotted the scribbles down as fast as he could. Then staggered to clean up his mess before Violet got back. He wasn't a spry chicken anymore; his pace was slow. He finished right before she walked in. He gave up trying to convince her he could do it. He had to do it his way. He worried he'd cause her embarrassment. On the other hand, the reward would make her happy. That's all that mattered.

A week later, he headed to his friend George's house. A place where he could practice baking the delicious chocolate cake. He often visited George's to play cards and watch television shows; it wouldn't strike Violet as odd.

He felt confident he could bake an incredible cake! The two men drove to the store, gathered the ingredients, and began the process. They soon realized it wasn't that simple. They ran back twice to the store for ingredients they forgot. Then drove back a third time for measuring cups. If they skipped a step or poured too much of any ingredient, they'd start over.

By the time the fourth batch was burned, the men were mad at each other. George had a short temper and decided Charlie was better off without his help. It was six days before the baking competition. He hadn't made a single slice of chocolate cake that compared to Violet's.

Time progressed and his wife's condition worsened, Charlie was at a loss of what to do. On top of that, their financial situation has struggled since his wife's health decline. They'd considered downsizing their home. Neither of them wanted to leave it behind.

On the day of the competition, the other contestants were surprised to see Charlie instead of Violet. They whispered excitedly. He was sure they'd predicted his failure. He wasn't feeling confident after what happened at George's. The contestants were going to be judged by three top categories: Flavor, Creativity, and Presentation. He followed the recipe exactly as written. He sensed the other contestants were making better time than him. His nerves were completely shot.

Two hours later, a loud bell rang off. The host of the competition ordered them to bring their sliced chocolate cakes to the table of judges. Charlie felt his blood pressure rise as he watched them taste his dessert. Their faces, blank and emotionless, offered no comfort. He couldn't hear their comments to each other. The judges asked for a deliberation period. Charlie made sure he took his blood pressure medication during the break. He hobbled outside to get fresh air. Violet was sitting on the bench a few feet off, reading the newspaper. His stomach fell.

"Violet, I-" he stammered.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm not mad at you for trying." She closed the paper and scooted over to make room on the bench.

"How did you know?" He asked.

"Thirty years together has taught me to know the tell-tale signs of a husband's mischief."

He chuckled. "Should we go in together for the results?"

"Sure, you're going to need some support after you find out you lost." She peeled over in laughter, in her over-the-top way. It was music to his ears.

They interlocked arms and walked into the building. The three judges were standing and clapping. The couple looked around for the winners, but the contestants were clapping too. There were flashes of cameras going off. Suddenly they were surrounded by cheers! Charlie won!

Violet nearly fell backward onto the floor. Her husband held her tight. Then he spun her around in circles. They laughed so hard they had to be guided to their seats. Her smile illuminated the room and Charlie's heart. They left hand in hand and walked all the way home. Thirty years of love, commitment, and sacrifice had never felt so good.