How To Bake The Perfect Wedding Cake. Gina Calanni

chest tightens. “Aww, thank you, Bri.” We reach in for a hug and a bit of champagne sloshes out of the glass. I gasp.

      Whoosh, nothing on the dresses.

      A throat clearing breaks my wave of relief. “Excuse me.”

      “Lauren, this is Mariska. She is going to be your assistant today.” Brianna nods and takes a sip of her champagne.

      “Hi.” I glance at Brianna. I thought she had wanted to be my one and only assistant. Ha! She has been making several comments, fishing for details about when I was going to ask someone to be my maid or matron of honor. I don’t want to deal with this issue yet. My shoulders slump and my stomach rips into shreds thinking about choosing between my best friend, Brianna, who I have known since freshman year of college, and my one and only sister, Megan, who asked me to be her maid of honor.

      Megan is also forcing the question and has brought up the fact that she is probably more organized than Brianna (though I’m not sure this is actually true as Brianna is a very organized and successful real estate guru). But she did point out that Brianna has never planned a wedding, whereas Megan has so she has that on her, but then again Megan asked me to be her maid of honor and I had no wedding planning experience either, so we are back at square one. I know I can’t do the whole “I have a matron and a maid of honor” because neither one of them would go for that, nor do I really want to do it. I need to choose. But who? They both mean so much to me and in such different ways.

      I take a sip of the perfect celebration solution. The bubbles from the champagne pop around inside my mouth and slide down my throat. That definitely wakes me up. Mmm, this is tasty. I’m ready to find my dress.

      “So vat kind of dress are you wanting? Mermaid? Sweetheart? Princess?” Mariska is staring at me like she has me figured out before I tell her.

      “I’m not sure. We’ve got this stack here to begin with.” I nod in the direction of the pile of dresses.

      “Okay, I see.” Mariska lifts the dresses off the chair as if I’ve laid them on pile of dirt and marches towards a dressing room.

      “So who was that on the phone? Megan?” Brianna tosses her hair over her shoulder.

      “No, it was Jack.” My cheeks heat. I almost want to skip this whole dress-shopping event and just be with him. Except, I’m on a mission. A mission from Venus… I am woman, hear me roar and see me find the perfect dress. I laugh. Despite my confidence, I am a bit worried that I won’t find the right one. Or worse—that I’ll pick the wrong shade of white and I’ll look horrible in all my wedding photos and everyone will say, “Such a lovely wedding…what happened with your photographer? They didn’t seem to catch you in the right lighting.” But everyone else will look great because they are in the right shade for their skin tone. I shudder.

      “Hey, are you okay? You’re not freaking about this, are you?”

      “No.” I glance to the side and then back to Brianna. “Maybe a little. I don’t want to pick the wrong dress.”

      “Ah hello, who are you with? Do you think I would let you be in anything other than the perfect wedding dress?” She shakes her head as if she is able to shake off all of my worries.

      “I know. But there are so many dresses.” My eyes strain as I gaze at the rows.

      “Hey, it’s okay. Mariska is a gold star employee per her badge.” Brianna winks at me. “And besides, you don’t have to decide on your dress today. This is just the first trial run.”

      I nod. Trial run… I don’t like the sound of that when picturing my wedding in any regards.

      “Follow me.” Mariska is motioning with her hand for me to follow her down the corridor of fitting rooms to begin the first round of me and wedding dresses. I’m worried. I’ve never tried on a wedding dress before. I guess this is a good thing. But I’m nervous. What if I look horrible in all shades of white? Or what if I pick a dress that is horrible for my figure? I swallow hard and enter the dressing room.

      “Okay, go ahead and undress.”

      My eyes bulge. I glance at the door to give Mariska her cue to give me privacy. She doesn’t move.

      “Um, I think I can handle the first round on my own.”

      “This is your first time, yes?”

      “Yes.”

      “You cannot put on a wedding dress on your own. You need help getting it on and taking it off. This is the purpose of the wedding dress. It is a partnership.” She nods at me to begin removing my clothes. I take off my jeans and my blouse. Mariska has her back turned to me as she unfastens the first dress from the hanger and prepares it on her arms to bring over my head.

      “Ready?”

      “Yes.” I hide my laughter at her using Jack’s favorite word. He has been using “ready” to progressively move our relationship forward and here I am in a bridal shop and it’s the one word the consultant is asking me.

      The white chiffon mixed with a pearly brocade slides over my head. I stick my hands in through the armholes and Mariska buttons up the back. I stare at myself in the mirror. I look so different in this dress. Like a bride.

      I’m going to be a bride. My chest splinters into a zillion different emotions.

      “How do you feel?” Mariska cocks her head to the right and inspects my face.

      “I’m, like, exploding with emotions. I don’t even know which one to go with.”

      “Yes, you do. It’s all right here.” She touches my chest over my heart. “And here.” With her other hand she taps my forehead. “Make the two merge.” She nods.

      “I want to. I’m just nervous.” I bite my lip.

      “Everyone is nervous. You love him, yes?”

      “Yes,” I say faster than would seem possible. There is no doubt about my love. I love Jack. I do want to marry him. I’m just nervous about everything that comes along with a marriage including the preceding events: the wedding and the planning. I want it all to be perfect. I don’t want to fail just as our new lives together are joining.

      “Then you are going to be fine. Come, let’s show your friend.” Mariska opens the door and Brianna is on her phone in one hand, the champagne flute in her other. She turns around and our eyes meet. Her jaw drops open and she tosses her phone in her purse and rushes towards me.

      “Lauren, you look gorgeous. Is this the one?” She gasps.

      I laugh. “It’s the first one.”

      We both laugh again. “But it’s so gorgeous. You’re so gorgeous. How could you even want to try on anything else after this one?” She shakes her hair over her shoulder.

      I roll my eyes. “Are you trying to shirk your duties and only have to partake in one fitting?” I study her face.

      “Whoa, wait a minute, my duties? Are you assigning titles?”

      I slump my shoulders. “Duties as in my best friend. No I haven’t assigned any titles…yet.”

      “Oh, I see. Well no I’m not trying to shirk my best-friend responsibilities. I would never do that. But I do love this dress on you. Let me get a pic.” She digs back in her purse and drags out her cell phone. I’m not huge on photos but this is one moment I do want to preserve. My favorite first wedding dress experience. The first dress I tried on in hopes of finding the perfect dress for my perfect wedding… I laugh. I’m not my sister, Megan… Perfect isn’t exactly an adjective used describe me. But I want it to be. I want this to be right. To be perfect. I want to be perfect for Jack, so that we will be equal. I need him to think and know that I’m bringing as much to the altar as he is. I swallow and smile. I want this pic to look nice, not worrisome like some vintage nineteenth-century forced portrait.

      Brianna snaps who knows how many