Alexis and the Missing Ingredient

by Coco Simon

  “Absolutely,” agreed the woman. “Jerry made me feel like a princess, and he made it all look so effortless. He made me show my best self out there!”

  “Well, that’s just wonderful,” gushed the host. Blah, blah, blah.

  But the woman’s words echoed in my head. It was like Madame Khalil. Like Dylan’s Candy Bar. The best things in life take the basics and make them better. The best friends in life make you your best self. Funnier, a better baker, smarter, more graceful—whatever it is.

  I turned to share this observation with Katie, but she had actually fallen asleep on the sofa, curled into a little ball. It was okay. The person I really wanted to share this idea with was Emma, who was due back at her house in Maple Grove tomorrow morning. I couldn’t wait to see her back home and fill her in on everything we’d done. It wouldn’t all seem real until the retelling. I would be careful to tell her repeatedly how much we missed her and how it wasn’t the same without her and how we talked about her all the time. That was all true. But I wouldn’t tell her what I was just realizing, deep down inside: that it had been good for me to branch out, to spend time with Mia and Katie (and Ava, of course) and get some new experience with other friends. I could now see I’d been relying on Emma too much, and it wasn’t good for either of us. I needed to take the bull by the horns and make plans and put myself out there to enrich my life. It wouldn’t diminish Emma’s role at all; in fact, it might enhance it. Who knew?

  Mia came back upstairs and saw Katie sleeping and gestured that she was going to go lie down in her room, too. It seemed like a great idea all around. For a minute I almost considered taking a train back alone tonight, just to sleep in my own bed and, to be perfectly honest, to be already in Maple Grove to see Emma. But I knew it could wait another day. In fact, it should wait another day. I closed my eyes to rest them for just a minute, and I, of course, fell asleep too.

  I woke up about an hour later to hear Mr. Cruz and Mia talking quietly in the kitchen. Katie stirred too, and we laughed at ourselves for not being able to hack the NYC pace without a nap.

  Mia heard us, and she and her dad came in to chat and make a dinner plan.

  “Do you guys want to go out or order in tonight?” Mia offered.

  “What’s on the agenda?” I asked.

  “Well, we were planning to stay here until seven”—she and Katie exchanged a look that I didn’t understand—“but then we had been thinking of going out for pizza at this brick-oven place by the guy who started the Sullivan Street Bakery.”

  “I could do that,” I said, shrugging.

  “Alexis, is there anything on your agenda?” asked Mr. Cruz with a smile. “We’ve certainly heard a lot about Mia and Katie’s agenda this weekend.”

  I grinned. “Their agenda is my agenda. I am perfectly happy to leave all the planning to them. I organize us for business, they handle pleasure. But I’m learning, that’s for sure.”

  “O-kaaaaay . . . ,” said Mr. Cruz. “If you’re sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “If we ordered in instead of going out, what would we get?” asked Katie.

  “Ooh, you’ve asked the million-dollar question around here.” Mr. Cruz went to a cabinet and took out a big accordion folder. “There are many choices, my friends. Sometimes Mia and I are craving different things, so we order from different places. I’ll have Chinese and she’ll have a burrito. Or I’ll get lobster and she’ll have ribs. It just depends.”

  “Wow.”

  He opened the folder and showed us dozens and dozens of take-out menus from all different kinds of places.

  “How can you ever decide?” I asked.

  “Sometimes I just toss a few in the air and grab whichever one comes down first,” he joked.

  “Really?” asked Mia.

  “No,” he said, and he shook his head and laughed.

  “I can’t imagine living somewhere where you could get basically anything you can dream of delivered to your own front door. It’s kind of wild! Maybe we should just order in pizza?” I suggested, which was my first suggestion of the trip.

  “Yeah. And order up a movie?” Katie suggested.

  “If you think that’s good enough? I mean, we are in New York City!” said Mia.

  I shrugged. “Sometimes the best kind of social plan is having no plan at all.” But then I thought back to my empty days at home. “If it’s by choice, that is. And only then.”

  At seven o’clock the doorbell rang, and Mia ran to get it. I didn’t really stop to think that it was odd she’d be paying for the food, but when I heard laughter and squealing in the hall, I stood to go check on her. Where was Mr. Cruz? I wondered.

  But out in the hall, I couldn’t believe my eyes! It was Emma!

  “Emma? Emma!” I cried, and I galloped over to grab her in a huge hug. “OMG, how did you get here?” I was so excited, I nearly cried, and I am not a big crier.

  “Let the poor girl get in the door!” admonished Katie. “So I can say hi to her!” Katie gave Emma a big hug too, saying, “We missed you!”

  “Thanks! I missed you guys, too!”

  Emma dumped her stuff, and we all went into the living room to catch up. I was so, so happy, I couldn’t stop smiling at Emma. Now the trip felt complete. I just knew I wouldn’t have been able to savor the memories in the same way without her having been here too. I’d always be swallowing my comments, not wanting her to feel left out. Phew. This way was much better.

  After explaining how Mia had had her dad text Emma’s mom this morning to organize all this, Emma told us all about the camping trip and how there’d been a snake in the tent and the water was freezing, but also how they’d seen a rainbow and climbed a mountain to see the sunrise, and cooked fish they’d caught themselves. It sounded pretty great.

  “Hey, maybe next year we could all go camping together,” I suggested.

  “Yeah!” Everyone liked that idea, and I think Emma was pleased her trip sounded so fun, we wanted to do it too.

  “And next time we come here, Emma has to come for the whole time,” said Mia. “Not just the very end.”

  “Thanks!” said Emma. “Hey, where’s Ava?”

  We explained where she was, and then we filled her in on everything we’d done, and it did really sound like a lot. It had been a lot.

  “Aren’t you guys exhausted?” Emma asked incredulously, and we had to admit that we were.

  “Not that we’ll be low energy for you tonight!” Mia said with a grin.

  “No, I myself am low energy.” She giggled. “Sleeping on the ground doesn’t do wonders for feeling rested.”

  “I call sleeping in a bed!” I joked, and Emma looked confused while the others laughed, so I had to explain it to her.

  “Oh, you can totally have the bed, actually. An air mattress will feel like heaven to my achy bones right now.”

  “No, no. You take the bed. Please!” I insisted. “Especially for your achy bones.”

  “Well, we’ll see,” said Emma. “Thanks, though. What I really need is a professional massage with one of those rose oils my mom’s always talking about.”

  “Oh, wait! That reminds me!” I ran into Mia’s room and grabbed the little Soapy Chic bag. Returning to the living room, I reached into the bag and pulled out a bottle for each girl, checking the tag to be sure the right person had the right bottle.

  They tore open the wrappings and said, “Yum!” Then they opened their bottles to use the cream.

  “Oh, Alexis, these are awesome. You are so thoughtful. Thank you,” said Mia.

  “Yeah, I love mine. You’re the best,” Katie said.

  “You’re welcome,” I said. “Sometimes a good idea strikes me and I plan ahead.” And then we all laughed again, because I always plan ahead. At least when it comes to the important stuff.

  Over pizza, we filled Emma in on all of our cupcake research: Georgetown, Billy’s, Magnolia, and the Sprinkles cupcakes sold at Dylan’s.

  “By the way, the real money is
in wholesaling,” I said.

  Emma looked at me blankly.

  “I’ll explain another time. But it’s that or just selling cupcake mixes.”

  “Ew! I’d never use a mix!” said Katie.

  “You’d be surprised,” I said. “Lots of research goes into them.”

  “Wait, I thought you were going into the candy store business?” asked Mia.

  “That too,” I confessed. “Maybe I’ll run Dylan’s one day.”

  “I would not be surprised,” teased Emma.

  “Now, I hate to bring this up, but since we’re all here . . .”

  “The PTA.” Mia moaned, putting her head in her hands.

  “Right!” I said.

  Katie sighed. “You know where I stand. I think we should just make the best possible plain vanilla and plain chocolate cupcakes, with alternate icing, and call it a day. If we can do simple perfectly, scrumptiously, then they’ll know we can be trusted with anything.”

  “I kind of agree,” said Mia. “I think we could do plain cake and frosting, but decorate them really wildly, like with candy from Dylan’s or fondant flowers, or use wild cupcake wrappers, and sprinkles—whatever.”

  “But we don’t want them to look junky or unappetizing . . . ,” complained Katie.

  “Hold on!” I said while putting my palms out peacemaker-style. “We’re just in the brainstorming mode. Emma?”

  “I think we should do one totally wild and one totally simple, to show our range.”

  “Okay, and I think we should just blow it out. I mean, do our most unique stuff. Everyone knows we can do plain and basic. Why not showcase what we’re capable of?”

  We all sat in silence, chewing.

  Mr. Cruz spoke up. We’d all kind of forgotten he was there again.

  “Can I put in my two cents?”

  “Sure, Papi,” said Mia.

  “I think you’re all right. So why don’t you put all the possibilities into a hat and pick three?”

  We were quiet for a second, and then we all broke into smiles. “Great idea,” I said.

  “Thanks. Sometimes I have them,” Mr. Cruz said smugly.

  “Sometimes,” teased Mia.

  And so that is how, one week later, we ended up at the PTA meeting with three platters of cupcakes. One was kind of our trademark: salted caramel cupcakes with bacon frosting. Another was our Mud Pies, something we’d made once for Jake Taylor’s birthday party. It was chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and with chunks of Oreo cookies and chocolate chips stuck in the frosting. And the final ones were our minis that we make for our friend Mona, who owns The Special Day bridal salon in the mall in Maple Grove. They were vanilla cake with vanilla frosting, about the size of a fifty-cent piece: tiny and delicious.

  See if you can guess which ones went the fastest?

  Yup.

  The vanilla-vanilla minis.

  And the bacon? About half got eaten.

  The Mud Pies? Barely at all. (I hate wasting cupcakes; it’s money out of our pockets, even though the Taylor boys are always glad to take extra inventory off our hands.)

  When we picked up our trays and leftovers after the meeting, we analyzed the results.

  “Well, grown-ups—all the moms especially—are always trying to eat healthy or lose weight or whatever, so it’s no surprise they went for the minis.”

  “Plus, vanilla appeals to everyone. Surprisingly, chocolate doesn’t,” said Katie.

  “Yeah, I think all the bacon ones were eaten by dads,” said Emma. “I know those are my older brothers’ favorite.”

  “But, hey, we did hand out a ton of flyers and business cards,” said Katie. “Alexis, you’ve got to be pleased by that!”

  I nodded, and then I tried to sum it all up for us, to make it into a learning experience. “So all cupcakes are good, in different combinations. But the simpler, the better.”

  Mia squinted. “Kind of like friends,” she said.

  I laughed.

  “Yeah. And plans,” Emma added.

  “And clothes?” suggested Katie.

  “And candy!” I said.

  We all laughed then.

  “Hey, look, guys! It’s Taylor Swift!”

  We all laughed again and ended in a big group hug before we took our leftovers and went home in good old Maple Grove. It felt great to have the four of us together, in any and all combinations. I was glad there was school the next day (I know, I know) and I could get back into my routine with my friends. I was glad I had branched out and tried new things, and I knew I’d try to do more of it, but sometimes you just need things to be easy and peaceful. And speaking of peace, I, for one, had lots of Celebrity Ballroom to watch.

  Want another sweet cupcake?

  Here’s a sneak peek of the seventeenth book in the

  series:

  Katie

  sprinkles & surprises

  Mia, My Personal Adviser

  M ake them stop!” I cried, laughing. “They’re tickling my nose! I’m going to sneeze!”

  But my best friend, Mia, can be a little harsh sometimes. “But they like you!” she protested, doubled over giggling.

  I was sleeping over at Mia’s house, and even though she has a perfectly comfortable brand-new bed, she spread out her sleeping bag on the floor next to mine, so we could hang out and talk. But whenever anyone lies on the floor, Mia’s little fluffy dogs, Tiki and Milkshake, think that it’s playtime. So both of them were dancing around my face, sniffing me and licking my nose.

  “Seriously, Mia!” I pleaded. “Call off your ferocious beasts!”

  “Okay! Okay!” Mia got up and scooped up one wriggling dog in each arm. “Sorry, babies. Katie doesn’t want to play with you.”

  She dropped them out the door and then shut it quickly.

  “I like playing with them,” I said, sitting up. “But they were attacking me.”

  “Those two? They’re afraid of ants,” Mia joked.

  “They’re terrors,” I said. “But at least they’re cute. It’s too bad Mom is allergic to pets. I would love to have a dog. A big fluffy one.”

  Then there was a knock on the door.

  “Girls, it’s ice-cream time,” announced Mia’s stepdad, Eddie.

  I smiled. “That’s my favorite time of day!”

  We both jumped up and followed Eddie down the stairs to the kitchen, where the table was set up for an ice-cream sundae buffet. There were three cartons of ice cream, a bottle of chocolate sauce, a can of whipped cream, and bowls filled with cherries, sprinkles, and crumbled-up cookies.

  Mia’s stepbrother, Dan, was leaning against the kitchen sink, eating out of a bowl that looked like it was mostly filled with whipped cream.

  “What are you guys, twins?” he asked. (I forgot to mention that Dan is in high school. I have come to believe that most high school boys are kind of rude—that’s just how they are. Well, except for my friend Emma’s brother Sam. He is perfect.)

  Anyway, I should explain why Dan made that crack about us being twins. It’s because Mia and I were wearing matching pajamas, pink ones with a cupcake pattern on them. We had bought them with the money we had made from the cupcake business we’re in with our friends Emma and Alexis. It’s kind of funny. Any time I make money from the cupcakes, I end up spending it on something cupcake related. Last time, I got this cool stenciling kit you can use to make designs on your cupcakes. I guess you can say I am cupcake obsessed.

  Mia is not as cupcake obsessed as I am, but she loved the pajamas as much as I did. And the sleepover was the perfect time to wear them.

  “Yes, we’re twins,” Mia replied to Dan sarcastically, because apparently the best way to deal with a rude teenage boy is to be rude back. It must have worked, because Dan just shrugged and kept eating.

  Eddie was anxious for us to dig in. “Come on, girls. The combination possibilities are endless!”

  Mia’s mom, Mrs. Valdes, entered the kitchen and gave Eddie a hug. “What a sweet thing to do, honey,” she
said. “Thanks!”

  Mia looked at me and rolled her eyes again. I know it makes her all cringey when her mom and stepdad get lovey-dovey in front of her.

  “Yes, thanks, Mr. Valdes,” I said. “This looks amazing.”

  “What are you waiting for? Dig in before it melts!” Eddie said, motioning to us.

  Mia grabbed a bowl and spoon and then stood there, thinking. I knew whatever she made would not only be the perfect balance of flavor, but also beautiful. Mia is a true artist. I’m not so picky. I took my bowl and started piling in everything.

  Chocolate, mint chip, and butter pecan ice cream. Chocolate syrup, cookie crumbles, and cherries. Then I sprayed on the whipped cream and finally added the sprinkles.

  “Katie, those sprinkles are going to fall off,” Mia remarked.

  “You have to put them on last,” I informed her. “Because they make it pretty.”

  Rainbow sprinkles are my favorite, because they’re so colorful. Sometimes when people ask me what my favorite color is, I say “rainbow” because I just can’t decide. Mom heard me say it so much that she got me rainbow socks for Christmas. They’re my favorite.

  I sat down at the table and was already halfway done eating my ice cream when Mia finally finished creating her bowl. As I predicted, it was a work of art. Mia had a perfect scoop of chocolate ice cream in her bowl, topped by a flower design painted with chocolate syrup. The center of the flower was a cherry.

  “Mia, that’s gorgeous!” I said.

  Mia grinned. “And delicious!” Then she dug in her spoon.

  I gave a mock scream. “Aah! You’ve destroyed your art!”

  “It’s for a good cause,” Mia said, eating another spoonful.

  When we finished we helped to clean up the kitchen and then went back up to Mia’s room and sprawled out on the floor again, this time without dogs.

  “I’m so glad you could sleep over tonight!” Mia said. “What’s your mom doing again?”

  “She and her new boyfriend are going to see a Broadway show, and she won’t be back till late,” I said. “She figured it would be better if I slept over than if she came and got me at midnight.”