“Emma?”
Nothing.
“Emma, are you there?”
When she finally spoke, her voice was different. Careful.
“Mom. Put her on the phone.”
I handed my phone across the counter.
Janice took it. She asked Emma for the order number, the date the deposit was paid, the last four digits of the card, the color of the sugar flowers. Emma knew every answer, of course.
Janice handed the phone back and pulled her glasses down onto her nose.
“I’m so sorry about this, ma’am. The bride’s confirmed. I’ll bring it right out.”
She disappeared into the back.
“Emma,” I said into the phone. “What is going on?”
“I don’t know, Mom.” Her voice was strange. Too quick. “Somebody probably got the orders mixed up. Just get the cake, okay? I have to go. They’re doing my hair.”
She hung up.
I stood there staring at my phone.
