As I staggered, and Edgar tried to yank and steady me, I fell headlong, dragging the tablecloth and upending all the trifles, causing the candles in Harriet’s trifle to set the tablecloth on fire, which was when everyone in the tent began screaming and running for the exits as the cameras swung wildly and the bodyguards sprinted to find fire extinguishers while hoping not to slip in my barf. It was like watching a mob fleeing from Godzilla or a marauding triceratops, not knowing which way to turn, with parents being swept away by my tidal wave of trifle, reaching out helplessly for wailing babies. Right before I passed out I knew only one thing:

For the rest of my life, whenever anyone didn’t like something, a politician or a movie star’s performance or a holiday sweater, their opinion would be punctuated by a clip of me vomiting trifle.

Might I?”

It was Maureen, an hour later. I’d refused an ambulance because I was so mortified, and I was lying on a cot in a holding area, a few yards from what remained of the Baking Jubilee tent. The fire had been quickly contained and the show’s finale was in the process of being rescheduled. The sweat that had soaked my body was starting to dry, and Edgar had been tending to me with fresh towels and ice chips. A local doctor had checked me out and said that I’d most likely had food poisoning, either from an ingredient I hadn’t known I was allergic to or from one of the trifle’s dairy products spoiling under the hot lights. Edgar was off finding me some crackers, which were all I’d ever eat for the rest of my life, when Maureen walked in.

“Hey,” I said, pulling myself up on an elbow.

“Don’t. Just rest. You’ve earned it. You poor boy.”

“Your Grace?”

“Maureen, please. Oh, Carter, when I saw your face going so deathly pale, my heart just broke.”

“I’m so sorry, and look at your blazer . . .”

“My blazer is fine; a spritz with club soda and all was well. But you’re my concern. Because, and I know you won’t believe this, but I know just how you feel.”

“Maureen?”

“Gerald and I have been married for five years, and it’s been lovely. Strenuous but lovely. It was the year before the wedding that almost destroyed me.”

“How?”