Page 15 of Savage in the Sweets
Little April Savage, a clone of her aunt Lacy, runs excitedly up to the picnic table. “Did you include all the princesses?”
Lacy approaches the box I set on the table and proceeds to open it, revealing a multi-tiered cake with princesses decorating it.
It makes sense that Lacy brought the cake. She peddles sugar for a living and can’t be trusted with the health of our youth.
I do have to admit, though, the cake is one-of-a-kind, each layer holding multiple princesses enacting various scenes.
Still, it’s junk. What kind of parent would I be to Michael if I allowed him to consume her confectionary creations? I hate going back on my word, but this is about being a good parent.
“I got all the Kingdom Heart princesses you asked for, including Kairi, but I couldn’t find Xena.” Her eyes dart over to Michael. “But I think I know someone who might be able to help. Michael, do you know what would go great in this spot right here?” She points to a section of the cake with a small medieval setup and a blonde Barbie that must be Gabriella, Xena’s friend and possible lover.
“Oh, April, look what I got for you!” He grabs the gift from the table and takes the Xena out, handing it to her.
Her eyes light in excitement. “You got me my favorite!”
Now I feel kind of bad for not letting Lacy have the figurine. She really was in a time crunch.
Lacy holds her hand out for the toy. “Before we slice into your princess cake, let’s put her on it so we can take pictures.”
April tears at the packaging, extracting the figurine and handing it to her aunt, who sets it in its proper place.
“Thanks, Michael!” April says enthusiastically.
Michael beams with pride as he takes his seat at the picnic table.
“Sorry, Colin, but we don’t have any sushi here for Michael,” Lacy says, casting me a deadpan stare.
“My dad said I can have cake!” Michael says.
Fuck—if it gets out that I let Michael eat something Lacy made, it will open me up to a world of criticism.
“Michael will be fine without cake,” I say, hoping that he doesn’t decide to throw a fit.
His face falls, and it damn near kills me that I sandbagged him like this, but we’re in hostile waters, and the last thing I need is for these sharks to smell blood.
“But he has to have a piece of cake!” April’s shrill voice carries over the party. “He got me Xena, and he deserves a piece of cake!”
Every pair of eyes turn in my direction, and an ominous silence falls over the crowd.
If I cave and allow Michael cake, made by Lacy of all people, it’ll be said that I don’t practice what I preach. If I maintain my directive of disallowing the cake, Michael will lose all trust in me.
It is without question that I should do what’s right for Michael. From the moment I took him in, and he became my son, I vowed to always put him first. It shouldn’t matter how difficult a decision is, as long as it’s in his best interest.
But sometimes, it’s hard to know what’s best as a parent. The cake has no redeeming qualities, but at this point, denying him it might do more harm than good.
Seeing him look so dejected tugs at my heartstrings a little. He knows better than to argue with me on this, especially in front of people, so he accepts that he’ll be the only child without a slice.
“He’s allowed a piece,” I finally say.
Seeing Michael’s face light so brightly lets me know I’ve made the right decision.
Lacy gives a small “hmmm,” and begins passing out slices.
The other parents’ smirks are not lost on me, but all that matters is that I’m doing right by Michael, and seeing him dig his fork into the chocolate slice and devour it feels so much better than it should.
Lacy approaches, plate in hand, and lifts it so that it’s an inch from my face.
“I don’t suppose you’d like a slice.”
