Black Cake(30)

Now Covey wanted Pearl to follow her to her new home, but the groom-to-be was against it. Little Man’s undisguised hostility toward Pearl made it easier for her to decide on her next move. Right after the wedding, Pearl would leave the employ of Covey’s father. She was always getting offers from important men’s wives. But Pearl preferred to go to one of the resort villas up in the hills, where the wages would be good and the guests would never stay long enough for her to get mixed up in their lives.

Only one question remained. How could Pearl help Covey get free of Little Man?

That beast.

The sugar began to darken and smoke as Pearl stirred. When it was almost black, she took a small pot of boiling water and poured its contents onto the sugar, turning her face away as the mixture sizzled and splattered. She would add the blacking to the batter to darken it, but only after she had whipped the butter, added the eggs, flour, spices, and, finally, the mixture of fruits that had been soaking for weeks in dark rum and port. This cake would be a work of art.

As Pearl cracked the eggs and beat them into the batter, she wondered if there was a way to poison a portion of the cake without putting Covey or the wedding guests in danger. She had something she could use, something that would take effect quickly, something that she had shoved into the pocket of her apron on impulse. Pearl opened the jars of marinated fruit and let the alcohol tickle her nostrils. She poured and stirred and scraped and stirred again. By the time she had put the first couple of pans of batter in the oven, she was despondent. She was no longer certain of what to do.

Surely, few of the wedding guests would be sorry to see Little Man Henry go to the devil, but you couldn’t attack such a powerful man without courting trouble. Even if Pearl were to come up with a way to poison only Little Man’s piece of cake, there would be an obligatory show of indignation among the citizens and police, and the evidence would point straight to Pearl.

Pearl pulled the bottle of poison out of her pocket and turned it back and forth, studying the label. No, Pearl had no intention of ending up in prison. She couldn’t do that to her children or to her late husband’s memory. And she was no longer convinced that it would resolve Covey’s problems. It would not be beyond Little Man’s family to force Covey into a marriage with his brother, should Little Man meet a sudden demise. Pearl slipped the bottle back into her pocket.

She needed to think. Pearl knew how people saw her. Few people suspected a woman like Pearl of having the means or cunning to take care of certain things. There were advantages to being looked down upon by certain people. It was precisely for this reason that Pearl felt confident that she would find a way to help Covey. This train of thought calmed her nerves. That, and a few words of prayer to the Lord to deliver her from this fire.

On the morning of the wedding, Pearl topped the cake with a cluster of icing flowers, delicate periwinkles that would dazzle the guests and which would spell out a code that only Covey could decipher. Pearl had adjusted the coloring to give the flowers a lilac tone. The top tier of the cake, laden with the flowers, was the section that would go home with the bride and groom. Despite her distress, Covey would smile when she saw them, Pearl was sure of it. Covey had never liked lilac. Just like her mother before her. Covey would understand what Pearl was trying to say.

Pearl reached into her apron pocket for the small bottle that she’d been carrying around for three days and put it on the counter. She began to spoon more icing from a mixing bowl into the piping bag. Just then she heard a psst and turned to find Bunny looking in from the kitchen doorway. Pearl pushed the bottle behind the bowl and waved at Bunny to come in.

“Well, look at you,” Pearl said.

Bunny spun around to show the pale swirl of the dress that she’d put on for Covey’s wedding. She tipped her feet from side to side. Her shoes had been dyed to match. Then Bunny’s smile disappeared. She walked over to Pearl, leaned against the kitchen counter, and hung her head.

“I know, Bunny, I know,” Pearl said. She jutted her chin out toward the cake. “But look.”

“It’s lovely, Pearl,” Bunny said, sounding on the verge of tears. Then she twisted up her face. “But the flowers, they’re lilac colored.”

“Yes, they are,” Pearl said, nodding proudly.

“But Covey hates that color.”

“Yes, she does,” Pearl said. She put her hands on her hips and waited for Bunny to make the connection.

Finally, Bunny smiled and nodded slowly. She straightened up and reached into the mixing bowl, swiping a bit of icing from the side with her finger. Bunny licked at the icing then reached toward the bowl again.

“No, go on, now,” Pearl said. “I still have to finish up. I’ll see you out there.”

“All right, later,” Bunny said, wiping her hands on a dishrag.

“Walk good,” Pearl said, as she crouched down and reached under the counter for more confectioner’s sugar. When she stood up again, Bunny was already crossing the next room.

On the afternoon of the wedding, the black cake was wheeled into the reception hall under a veil of white lace. There was the traditional moment of silence as four attendees lifted the veil. The guests cheered and applauded Pearl’s latest creation, but Covey just stood there, staring at the cake, her face blank. It was as if the girl wasn’t even in the room. It took her a few moments before her face began to change. First, she looked confused, just as Bunny had. She looked up at Pearl and back at the cake, and then her face softened. Finally, Covey understood what she was looking at. It was small consolation, but it was something.