Hayley stood in the large kitchen of the mansion, watching Mr. Christman, frost a cake. One of her favorite pastimes was observing the expert chef.

"Are you almost finished?" Hayley licked her lips as she dipped her finger in the frosting bowl.

Mr. Christman sighed and shooed her away with his hands.

"I cannot stand to wait!"

"You must! This is not for your consumption." Irritation flared in his eyes.

"For whom are you baking?" She picked up a dishtowel and began cleaning the counter top.

"Mrs. Sommers adores my culinary creations." He spread one last stroke of frosting.

"You are delivering this to Mrs. Sommers?"

"Yes." He eyed the cake as though it was a unique masterpiece.

"When?"

"Before the party."

"What party?"

"Mr. Sommers' twentieth birthday party."

Hayley had forgotten the special date. "This is his birthday cake?"

"Oh, no! This is only one of the many desserts I have been requested to create. I will also contribute a rich smorgasbord of appetizers."

"Who has been invited?"

"The entire province, I'm sure." He laughed in his peculiar way.

"Did my father get an invitation?"

"Are you not asking whether you have been invited?"

"If my father is invited, then I am invited."