(ARLO)
The lady's lecturing tone seems to astound Miles. He just nods politely in response.
I try to cut her off from saying more about how Miles should protect me. "I remember back then; you had all types of tasty buttercream cake. Maybe we should go with the buttercream cakes." I look at Miles. "Do you love buttercream cakes?"
He rubs the back of his neck. "Yes. I love all cakes."
"You have to." The woman nods. "Cakes are like pieces of heaven."
"I know," Miles says, leaning over and peering at the refrigerated cakes. "Ooh, those over there look good." His eyes light up.
"They don't just look good." Says the woman. "They taste good as well,"
He gazes at the cakes and his gaze stops at one particular piece. "I've had that before. What is it called?"
"That's an Italian ricotta cassata cake. It originated in Sicily. It would be a very good cake for a wedding." The old lady smiles.
