“I did but I had no idea they were this extreme. Look! They’re opening the doors.” Tabby pointed.

Mitzi had seen the cake display next to their table when they arrived, and she did her best to keep her eyes off it but just couldn’t. One thing was for sure—the brides were sure to see it.

Future brides rushed into the room as if they were hitting a clearance sale at a department store. Once inside, they began to mill around, but no one even looked toward the end of the room where The Perfect Dress table was located.

“Sit tight, and don’t worry,” the lady at the cake table said. “We’ve got the best seats in the house.”

Mitzi turned to see who was talking to her and wondered if anyone really bought or needed a cake that big. Each of the six tiers was decorated with life-size sugar roses. Who would want to cut into something so pretty? Or need a cake to feed a thousand people?

“I’m Glenda Smith.” The lady handed her a card. “First time I’ve seen you at one of these. I try to make two a year, summer and the Christmas one. It’s getting more and more popular to have a holiday wedding. Love the wedding dress and the fact that you brought the bridesmaid display, too. That’s genius.”

“Thank you.” She stuck out her hand. “Mitzi Taylor.”

Glenda shook hands with her. “I see you’ve got a lot of help.”

“These are my partners, Jody and Paula, and our . . .” She hesitated, not knowing how to introduce Dixie and Tabby.

“We’re the interns,” Dixie said. “And Tabby will be modeling the wedding dress right there this evening. That’s one big cake. Do you cut it to let people sample? How’d you get it in here?”

“In three vans, and no, we don’t cut this one. It’s not even real cake under all that icing. Just Styrofoam. My helpers will be here soon with the samples that we’ll be offering for tasting. You’ll have to try our new hummingbird cake,” Glenda said.

A group of three ladies finally made their way to The Perfect Dress table. “I’m the bride and these are my bridesmaids. Do you really only make custom dresses for plus-sized women?”

“When are you getting married?” Mitzi asked.

“December, and I’m”—she lowered her voice—“a size sixteen. Is that considered plus-sized?”