Pink Frosting

Short Story

Alexa pressed the last of the strawberry frosting out of the piping bag and formed the last perfectly shaped flower on her clients wedding cake. She stepped back and admired her work. Her apron covered in white powder she wiped a lost strand of blonde hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear.

She looked at the cake as if she wanted it to speak to her. Tell her she did an amazing job. But it didn’t. It just stood there on the counter and looked, well, pretty. She laughed at herself, a little nervous laugh and threw back her head as she jugged the last sip of red wine. She picked up the white and blue checkered dish cloth and began wiping the table.

Rufus the long-hair ginger cat walked into the kitchen and jumped on the counter. Completely oblivious to the fact that she’s trying to clean the kitchen and get an early night. She stopped and looked at him. Tears began filling her eyes.

“Why me Rufus? Why me of all people?” she asked and again, waited for the ginger cat to talk back to her.

What would happen if he did? She knows that that’s something she wont be able to handle. Why wait for it. It’s just like her. Always wanting something she can’t have and the minute she’s got it she regrets asking for it in the first place.

Rufus looks at her as if he is reading her mind and a meow escapes from his mouth. She smiles and opens the fridge to give him a can of tuna.

“Enjoy the small pleasures Rufus, it’s after all what matters the most”

Look at her. Giving advice to a cat. She is completely losing her mind. She looks back at the wedding cake. This was a difficult bride to deal with. All uptown brides are like that. Not satisfied with anything she presents, yet they all want to make use of her. Heaven knows why. If you’re going to complain about every single detail how about you just don’t come to her for business? No, what is she saying. This is her income, she will listen to them complain and then take their money.

Alexa heads upstairs and opens both taps on the big oval shaped bath. She pours the soapy liquid into the tub and white fluffy bubbles begins to form immediately. This is exactly what she needs. She can feel that she’s had maybe one, or three glasses too many but who cares. She’ll be up and about tomorrow morning and deliver the special cake as required by Mrs Bridezilla.

The bubbles push their way through her toes and she can feel her muscles relaxing in the hot water. Rufus is sitting on the edge of the bath looking at her as if he understands what she’s going through.

“Going through a break-up and then listening to brides complain is not easy you know Rufus. It takes something with character and drive and I am that someone” she says to Rufus while pointing a finger to her chest.

There she goes again, talking to a damn cat. She wraps herself in the soft beige towel and walks to her bedroom. Contemplating if she should grab another glass of wine she decides against it and climbs into bed. She needs some rest. Maybe she’ll feel better in the morning?

 

The screaming of the alarm rips through her ears and the pounding of her head seems to get worse by the second. She leans over and slams the alarm clock a little too hard. There goes another one. Swinging both her feet out of bed she drags herself to the bathroom and splashes cold water on her face. She heads downstairs and is immediately completely woken up by the state of the kitchen.

“What the….?” her voice drifts off and it’s pure horror on her face.

In her emotional and drunken she might add state she forgot to put the cake in the fridge and by the looks of the pink paw prints it seems that Rufus quite enjoyed himself.

“Rufus Machias Brunt, what in the name of your ancestors have you done!” she screams nervously and hurries over to see what she’s able to save. Nothing. It’s a lost cause. She’ll have to start all over again and with Boston traffic and a wedding to get to she will never get it done in time.

Rufus jumps on the table and licks at the top of the frosting mess that is spread out on the table. Alexa can’t help but laugh. She wipes her finger through some frosting and shoves it in her mouth.

“Bloody hell Rufus” she whispers and takes another wipe.

Author's Note

Just something I wrote a while back.

Reviews

[William Richards]

Nice work. I really enjoyed it and felt sympathy for Alexa. And I could picture a playful Rufus and his mischief. Good work :-)