Free Ex-Rating by Natalie Standiford

pick chocolate.’ I forget why. I think her whole side of the family is allergic to it or
     something.’”
    Julia had originally planned on bringing Mrs. Safran cake tasting and dress shopping with her, but when Mrs. Safran’s daily
     migraine arrived, Holly was called in to sub. Holly didn’t really mind, but she was looking forward to the arrival of Julia’s
     friends from Boston next week. Maybe they could take over some of the wedding duties. They were Julia’s bridesmaids, after
     all.
    “I need your decision this week,” Carmen reminded them. “If you want the cake in time for the wedding.”
    “I like peppermint a lot, too,” Julia said. “Do you make peppermint cakes?”
    “I’d suggest mint ice cream,” Carmen said. “Not with lemon, though.”
    “I don’t know what to do,” Julia said. “I wish I could have five different cakes.”
    “That’s always an option,” Carmen said. “But it would probably run you close to—”
    “Julia, you can’t have five cakes,” Holly said. “Just pick one—it’s no big deal.”
    “I can’t,” Julia said. “Look—it’s almost six. Do you want to come over for dinner tonight?”
    Holly looked at Carmen, who seemed annoyed. She bustled about, getting ready to close her shop. “We’ll have to get back to
     you about the cake,” Holly said.
    “All right, but do it soon,” Carmen said.
    Holly and Julia gathered up their shopping bags and got into Holly’s yellow VW Beetle. “You were no help,” Julia said.
    “What do you mean?” Holly asked. “You want me to choose your cake for you? How hard is it to pick a cake?”
    “You’re right,” Julia said. “I just get overwhelmed. We made so many choices already today—”
    Actually, Holly thought, that wasn’t true. Julia looked at wedding dresses in four different shops but couldn’t narrow it
     down to fewer than six. She asked Holly which dresses she liked best for the rehearsal dinner, Holly chose her three favorites,
     and Julia bought them all, unable to decide.
    Holly pulled up at the Safrans’ house. “I probably shouldn’t stay for dinner,” she said. “I’ve got a history test to study
     for, and this big history project to work on that I’ve barely started, and then there’s the blog. We can’t just let it die!”
    She wanted to see Rob, but at the Safrans’ house there wasn’t much point. They were hardly ever alone there.
    “Oh, blog schmog,” Julia said. “If you don’t come in you’ll hurt Rob’s feelings. I wonder what Gabe’s making tonight?”
    Gabe had taken over most of the cooking since Mrs. Safran didn’t feel much like doing it. Rob helped him sometimes. Their
     specialty was pasta.
    Holly and Julia walked in, their arms full of shopping bags. The kitchen windows were steamy, and Rob and Gabe stood at the
     island chopping onions. Actually, Gabe was chopping them and Rob was juggling them.
    “How’d you do, girls?” Gabe asked. “How many credit cards did you max out today?”
    Holly put down her bags, and Rob tossed her an onion. She caught it and tossed it back. “Stay for dinner, Holls?” Rob asked.
     “We’re making Spaghetti ala Gabe.”
    “Smells good,” Holly said. “What’s in it?”
    “Turkey meatballs,” Gabe said
    Rob pulled her close and breathed into her ear: “Please? Maybe we can escape later.”
    Her pulse quickened. “Okay, I’ll stay,” Holly said.
    He kissed her ear to show her he was glad. Then he rubbed his nose in her hair. “Mmm, you smell better than the spaghetti
     sauce.”
    “Break it up, you two. Where’s Mom?” Julia asked.
    “Resting,” Gabe said.
    “Come on, Holly. Help me bring the bags into my room.”
    Holly broke away from Rob and followed Julia into her room, dropping the bags on the bed. “Call me when dinner’s ready,” Julia
     said. “I’m going to take a shower.”
    Holly returned to the kitchen. She felt so at home there that she set the table without having to ask where anything