A Previous Engagement Read Free

resulting lack of a dessert, everything was perfect.
     
    After admiring my handiwork, I found Kendra in the kitchen working on the solution: a gorgeous glazed chocolate cake, a much-improved version of the recipe I’d—well—overcooked. I gasped in delight.
     
    “I baked it this morning,” she said, without looking up. As she spelled out Congratulations, Marcy & Christian in green frosting, I restrained myself from hugging her. If I ruined a second cake, Kendra might actually dismember me. She wasn’t exactly known for her gentleness.
     
    So I kept it simple. “You are amazing. A goddess, even. Odes and sonnets shall be written in your honor.”
     
    “You’re not mad that I predicted your failure, are you? You seem to be taking it better than usual.”
     
    I shrugged, too relieved to be annoyed. “As long as Christian gets his party and his chocolate cake, I’m happy.” Now, everything really was perfect.
     
     
     
    ****
     
     
     
    I dimmed the lights, turned on a soft jazz mix, and played hostess to the first guests as Kendra and Grant lit the Sterno flames beneath the buffet trays. The delicious aroma of her famous stuffed mushrooms mingled in the air with guests’ perfumes and colognes. The full buffet included Christian’s favorites, the perfect comfort food for a chilly spring evening. The only thing more comforting than eating Kendra’s bacon mashed potatoes was the ambiance our efforts created. Birch’s wasn’t an ordinary wood-paneled family eatery anymore; it was a romantic forest glade, alight with a thousand twinkling fireflies. The concept I’d imagined a hundred times before was almost too beautiful for words in real life, enchanting each guest at the door. Christian’s dad raved about the décor as he thanked us for coordinating his son’s special event. A handful of couples swayed to the music, eyes alight with romance. Even Kendra was smiling. I thanked the champagne for that one, but the rest was all me.
     
    Watching it all from my corner of the room, I started to get nervous. More disastrous than a blazing chocolate cake, my guests of honor were missing.
     
    Of course, with my mother on hand, not a troubling detail was lost. About an hour into the party, she slinked over to me, tapping her watch. “Really, Tessa. Christian’s never been late a day in his life. Are you absolutely positive he hasn’t called?”
     
    “I’m sure,” I exhaled. It wasn’t like him to be late, and especially not to call, even for the casual dinner plans he thought we had.
     
    “You’re sure you gave him the right date? The right time?”
     
    “Mom, please.” I gritted my teeth. “He knows.”
     
    “How can you be sure? Did you confirm?”
     
    I ignored her and stared at the door. If I sent him a telepathic message, would he hear it? Maybe. It worked once in seventh grade. By now our skills might be rusty, so I concentrated extra hard.
     
    “Planning a big event like this is a lot of work, dear. If you’re not going to take the time to confirm your guests of honor, a lot of people could wind up wasting an evening. Here we are, sitting around, twiddling our thumbs. If it weren’t for Kendra’s food, there’d be nothing to do.”
     
    My father, sensing his first-born’s distress, appeared out of nowhere with a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Great job tonight, Tessa. Everyone’s having a blast.”
     
    “Joseph, don’t lie to her. Everyone’s asking about Christian.”
     
    “I called to confirm,” I said above Nat King Cole’s “L.O.V.E.,” a favorite song of Christian’s. “He’ll be here, Mom. Nagging me won’t help, okay? Excuse me, please.”
     
    I pushed into the crowd, eager just to move so I felt useful. I wanted to scream at my mother for planting her seeds of doubt. I’d called Christian plenty of times. My heart sank. Maybe too many times. What if he figured it out and was late on purpose just to mess with me? He could be sitting outside in his car,