Cupcakes & Chardonnay

Chapter 4

At the California Spa, Iris Catterton had, of course, reserved the honeymoon suite for them. Suzanne looked around at the spacious sitting room, with its heavy carved furniture and red and gold upholstery. A crystal chandelier sent shadows dancing into the corners of the room.

A fire was lit in the fireplace already. A bottle of champagne sat chilled in an engraved sterling champagne bucket. Of course, the first thing Daryle did was walk over to the champagne and pull the bottle up to inspect the label.

"Good choice, mother."

Suzanne peeked into the bedroom. Just as she had feared. Only one bed. At least it was a king-size, she noted. Enough room for each of them to have their own side. Or maybe she'd just sleep on one of the sofas in the main room.

She heard the pop of the champagne cork. A moment later, Daryle appeared, a glass of champagne in each hand. He held one out for her. She hesitated to take it at first. Champagne? What was the point? But the golden bubbles floating up to the top of the glass beckoned invitingly. Oh why not? It was just champagne. Suzanne could tell she'd be saying that a lot from now on. It was just a wedding. He's just her husband.

She took the glass from Daryle. "What are we toasting?"

"To Iris Vineyards and The Cupcakery, with outlets in San Francisco and now Napa. To business success." Daryle clinked her glass.

Suzanne took a sip and let the bubbles fizz and evaporate on her tongue. To business success. That's what this was all about. She would never have imagined that she'd be toasting her business on her wedding night.

"Now what do we do?" she asked.

 "I know what we could do," he said as he slipped off his tuxedo jacket and tossed it onto the bed.

"Good luck with that," she said.

He slipped his arm around her waist. "Lovely dress, by the way. I don't think I told you how beautiful you looked today." Suzanne spun around and slipped out of his embrace. "Or you could go down to the spa and get a treatment," he said.

"I think I will." Suzanne had never had a spa treatment before—never had the time—but she had to get out of the honeymoon suite. It was feeling smaller and more claustrophobic by the minute. She went into the walk-in closet, where the bellhop had put their luggage. The closet was nearly as big as the bedroom in her apartment. A full-length mirror hung on the far wall. Suzanne took a moment to admire the dress one last time. She planned to donate it when she got home. A friend of hers volunteered on the weekends at a church resale store in Oakland. Perhaps it would get worn for someone else's wedding, a wedding for two people who were the love of each other's lives.

She sighed. She did feel lovely in it. She loved those tiny satin roses. She had always loved that detail on wedding dresses. She frowned as it occurred to her that she should have saved them for her real wedding someday. She should have bought a dress she didn't particularly like for this one, this faux business wedding. Now she could never buy a dress with the roses again, it would remind her too much of today.

She reached behind her back to unzip the dress. Shoot, she thought. She couldn't reach the zipper. It was exactly in the middle of her back, in that one spot between her shoulder blades she wasn't flexible enough to get to. She did not want to go back out there and ask Daryle to help her. She twisted around to look at the back of the dress in the mirror. She tried again to reach it. She tugged at the neckline and shoulders, to see if she could wriggle out of the dress without unzipping it. No go.

She opened the closet door and tiptoed out. Daryle was in the main room. He had pulled open the heavy velvet drapes and was staring out through the big picture window. Suzanne saw immediately what he was looking at. Outside the window, the resort's grounds sloped up a gentle hill, encompassing a large formal garden to the left and a pond and walking path to the right. But beyond, in the distance, the low gnarly branches of a vineyard could be seen.