The Cupcake Diaries Collection: Katie and the Cupcake Cure; Mia in the Mix; Emma on Thin Icing; Alexis and the Perfect Recipe

by Simon, Coco

  Meanwhile Mia had paused for effect. Then taking a deep, dramatic breath she announced, “My mom wants us all . . . the four of us . . . to be junior bridesmaids at the wedding!” Mia jumped up on the couch and started to hop up and down with excitement, swinging her arms.

  “Oh my gosh!” cried Katie, jumping up after her. “I’ve never even been to a wedding, never mind in one!” She jumped up and down too.

  “Me neither!” I cried. I jumped up on the couch, since it appeared that was how we were celebrating. I caught a glimpse of Katie’s watch in midair as her arm sailed past. Three forty-nine. Could I leave now? No, that would be rude. I had to stick it out for five more minutes to enjoy the news with the other girls. And it was good news.

  “That is excellent,” said Alexis definitively. She was not the couch-jumping type, but we loved her anyway.

  “Your mom is so cool,” I said. Then I felt bad. My mom was cool too, but she’d been distracted and out of touch the past couple of weeks because she’d gotten furloughed, or suspended, from her job at the town library due to government cutbacks. Basically they’d told her to go home until they could come up with some money to pay her. Last week she’d finally had to take a part-time job at the bookstore at the mall just to have some extra income. But the hours were terrible and our family’s routines and schedules had been turned upside down. This was bad because I love a schedule, and I get really jumpy and grumpy when my schedules get messed up. My dad had given me and my three brothers a pep talk about how we had to stick together and pitch in and not worry Mom or put any pressure on her. It was hard. But I was nothing if not dependable. “I know I don’t have to worry about you, Emma,” Mom would always say. And I made sure she really didn’t have to worry about me now. But I missed seeing Mom and having her there when I got home after school. She was always running around these days. To be honest I wasn’t sure my mom even remembered what the Cupcake Club was, let alone how important it had become to us.

  It had all started on the first day of middle school, when we sat together at lunch, and we stared at Katie’s delicious homemade cupcake. The next day she brought in cupcakes to share and they were good. Really good. It was Alexis’s idea to bring cupcakes every Friday, and we all took turns. We all banded together then. We stuck together when Sydney Whitman formed the Popular Girls Club and none of us were in it. We started to bake together and then formed a business. The Cupcake Club took off, and we began making cupcakes for events all over town. It was sometimes a lot of work, but it was also a lot of fun.

  “So what are we going to wear?” asked Katie.

  Mia’s mom worked in fashion, so the question of the bridesmaid dress was sure to get a great deal of discussion. “Well, we just started talking about it, and we didn’t get too far before she had to leave for work,” said Mia. “She’s going to pick up some bridal magazines for ideas, and we can all look at them. Then we might go to the bridal salon where she got her dress and try stuff on.”

  “Fun!” said Alexis. “Have you ever been?”

  “Yes, I was there when my mom went to try on her wedding dress for the first time . . . ,” began Mia, warming to the topic.

  I wanted to stay and listen, but I started getting antsy. I had not budgeted time for this and now I was stuck here for another ten minutes at least, discussing the various types of wedding dresses and junior bridesmaid dresses. And worse, I knew that if we had to buy dresses for the wedding, it would be a big expense. Since my mom had lost her job, there hadn’t been any money for extras. There was hardly enough money for clothes or sporting goods. (In a house with three brothers, sporting goods were as much of a basic necessity as food. Things were always getting lost or being outgrown.) We had to earn extra spending money for movies and pizza and things like that, which is why I started walking Jenner. I tried to save most of my dog-walking money, though. I had been saving up for so long for a pink KitchenAid mixer I’d seen in the Williams-Sonoma catalog. We were the only ones who didn’t have a fancy mixer, and baking at our house was such a pain when someone had to use the old handheld one we had. Oh no. Would I have to spend all the money on a bridesmaid’s dress?

  “What do you think?” asked Mia, turning to me.

  “Huh?” I said. I had been thinking about my savings account.

  “Earth to Emma! You’ve been such a space cadet lately!” chided Katie with a smile. “Are you bored of us?”

  I could feel my face get red. “I guess I should be eating more cupcakes to keep my energy up,” I joked. It was just that I had so much to keep track of: school, flute practice (I’m in the school orchestra), Cupcake Club, my new job walking the neighbors’ dog, and babysitting my younger brother. It was getting to be a lot. I hadn’t told anyone about my mom’s job or how I had to babysit Jake more or how many conversations we had about saving money at my house.

  “Oh no! Am I rambling on too much?” asked Mia, embarrassed. “You know I could talk about fashion all day!”

  I instantly felt rotten about putting any kind of damper on what should have been a great moment for Mia. I didn’t want her to think I wasn’t excited.

  “No, you’re not rambling at all! And I am so psyched about your mom’s wedding. I think it’s so cool that we get to do the cupcakes, and I am so excited about us being junior bridesmaids. It’s so amazing.” I really did mean it. It was great news.

  Mia smiled. “Thanks! I can’t wait!”

  “It’s just . . .” I wanted to tell my best friends about our money troubles, but I just couldn’t. It would be embarrassing, not to mention kind of disloyal to my family. And anyway, I didn’t want to lay it all out and then have to run out the door and potentially leave them all talking about me and feeling sorry for us Taylors. “It’s just that I have to go home and watch Jake. And I’m worried I’m going to be late for his bus! But I don’t want to run out on all this great news! I want to talk about all the dresses, but then I’ll be late!”

  Well, it wasn’t a total lie. I did have to watch Jake, but not until tomorrow, when my brother Matt had basketball practice. It was his turn to watch Jake after school today. Running out on them for Jake sounded more legitimate than running out on them for a dog, that’s all.

  “Oh no! Go! We’re totally done,” said Mia sweetly.

  “What about the Garner job? The four-year-old’s birthday party? We need to submit a bid for that . . . ,” said Alexis.

  I froze. I was halfway to standing up, and I plunked back down on the couch. The club rule was that we all had do to the planning together so no one got stuck with it (even though I secretly thought Alexis would totally be okay doing all of it).

  But Mia waved. “Go, go. You can’t be late! We’ll e-mail you what we come up with, okay?”

  I was torn. I hated feeling like this. “Really?” I knew I was biting my lip.

  “Go! It’s fine!” said Katie nicely. “Really!”

  I looked at Alexis, and she nodded.

  “Okay,” I said. “Sorry.” I gave Mia a big hug. “Just let me know the details . . .” Then I grabbed my backpack and hustled out.

  I am going to be so late, I thought as I dashed out of Mia’s house, which I loved. Everything here was so stylish and neat and clean in contrast to my house, where everything was sturdy enough for three boys and slightly trashed and of questionable cleanliness. Just yesterday I had to kick three pairs of Matt’s disgustingly stinky socks off the sofa before I sat down.

  I clipped my bike helmet on and hopped on my bike. Well it was mine now. It was a hand-me-down from Sam, my eldest brother, by way of Matt, the next one down. It was a boys’ bike, with a bar, and it was gray and a little too big for me. But it was in decent shape and totally reliable. I pumped hard for the seven blocks home, standing up on the pedals almost the whole way, and taking the most efficient route.

  I passed Jake’s bus, which was stopped on the block before our house. Flying by at top speed, I just waved at all of the windows. One of them had to be Jake’s. I turned up
the driveway, ditched my bike in the rack so I didn’t get yelled at for leaving it out, ran into the mudroom and dumped my backpack and flute case into my locker (yes, we actually have lockers at home; it is the only way to contain the madness, my mom says), and was about to dash back out to get Jenner for his walk.

  “Where have you been?” Matt screeched. He went flying past me out the door, dressed in his basketball uniform with his jacket over it, the jacket flapping open in his haste. His light, curly hair was smushed under a baseball hat and his blue eyes flashed with impatience.

  “What?” I asked, not comprehending. I followed him out to the driveway.

  “They changed my practice time!” yelled Matt, hopping on a bike. My bike!

  “Wait, that’s my bike!” I yelled. “And what about Jake?”

  “He’s all yours! Mom said! And it used to be my bike so I still can claim it!” And Matt went sailing off.

  The bus pulled up, and Jake shuffled out. His shaggy blond hair was all messed up and his blue eyes looked tired. He had on jeans and his favorite T-shirt; it was blue and said NYPD.

  “Bye, buddy!” called Sal, the driver. Sal waved at me. I sighed and waved back. This was not what I bargained for.

  “Hi, Emmy,” said Jake as he trudged up the driveway. His backpack was bigger than his whole back. I couldn’t imagine what he carried in it besides his lunch.

  “Hi, pal.” I sighed again and took a deep breath. I didn’t want to snap at him. It wasn’t Jake’s fault Matt had ditched him. It wasn’t his fault that Mom had a new part-time job so she couldn’t be home to meet him after school.

  I thought about how I was going to negotiate this. Jake requires careful planning. “I’ll grab you a quick snack while you use the bathroom and then we’ll go walk Jenner real quick, okay?” I said, trying to keep my voice light. Jake could be a bit of a tyrant, and if he wasn’t in the mood to do something, there was no way he’d do it. It was a little like taking care of a puppy.

  “But I’m tired!” whined Jake, his shoulders drooping. “I just wanna stay home and watch TV!”

  I could see the Jenner walking job slipping away, and I couldn’t let that happen. I had to think fast. “You can bring your scooter and . . . we’ll go to Camden’s, and I’ll buy you a piece of candy!” It would cost me, but it would be worth it.

  Jake paused as if weighing his options: tantrum or candy. I held my breath. Finally he spoke. “Two pieces.”

  Phew. “Two pieces it is, mister, but hustle now. Poor Jenner is crossing his little doggy legs, he needs to pee so badly!”

  This sent Jake into peals of laughter, and I knew I had him. And it was only 4:10.

  One problem at a time conquered with a little planning. That’s how we roll, baby, I said to myself as I hustled us out the door. That’s how we roll.

  CHAPTER 2

  Dogs and Brothers Don’t Mix

  Jenner leaped excitedly behind the Andersons’ door as I got the key from its hiding place and put it in the lock at 4:20. Jake watched the dog closely through the window with wide eyes. Jenner could be as much of a handful as Jake sometimes.

  “You stay here, Jakey, while I go in and get his leash on, okay?” I said. Once he was on his leash Jenner would be fine.

  Jake nodded. He didn’t hate dogs, but he wasn’t crazy about them either. Especially big, excited ones.

  Sliding my knee through the opening in the door, I forced Jenner gently backward, then pulled the door shut. He was a good dog, but a little energetic at first.

  “Hey, boy! Hi, buddy!” Jenner jumped up and tried to put his two front paws on my shoulders. I grabbed him firmly by the collar and spoke to him in a soothing voice and patted his head. It had taken a few tries, but I learned that you just had to be very calm with him. Kind of like when you were talking to Jake on the verge of a meltdown. Sure enough, Jenner stopped jumping, and I grabbed the leash from the hook and clipped it to his collar. Then I picked up the pooper-scooper Baggies holder and put it in my pocket. All set.

  I looked around before I left. The Andersons’ mudroom was so neat, with everyone’s shoes in individual cubbyholes and the Anderson girls’ jackets and sporting equipment neatly aligned. I loved organization. I inhaled deeply. Something smelled really good. Mmm, I thought. Beef bourguignonne—a savory stew. Mom used to make it a lot. Mrs. Anderson worked full time at an insurance agency so, because of her schedule, she was a big Crock-Pot aficionado. A Crock-Pot cooked all day, and every time you came into the house you smelled dinner. Lately we ate mostly microwave stuff. It didn’t smell nearly as good.

  Jenner gave a short bark, and I realized I had been standing there for a minute. “That’s a good boy, now. Time for your walky,” I said. Poor guy. He probably really had to go.

  I opened the door, and Jenner charged out, yanking on the leash. “Easy, boy,” I said. Then I turned to find Jake, but he wasn’t standing where I had left him.

  “Jake?” I called. Where could he have disappeared to so quickly?

  Jenner pulled on the leash toward the sidewalk where we usually go, but I thought Jake must be in the Andersons’ backyard. They had a swing set and that would have captured his attention. I pulled Jenner along and peered over the low, white picket fence into the backyard. No Jake. Uh-oh. He could only have headed down the driveway to the sidewalk. Now I felt a little nervous.

  “C’mon, Jenner,” I said, and we trotted quickly down the driveway to the street. I looked left. No Jake. Then I looked right and there, way off in the distance about two blocks ahead, was Jake, motoring along on his scooter. “Oh no!” I cried, and we took off. How long had I been in the house?

  Jenner needed little encouragement to run. Greyhounds can reach a top speed of forty-five miles per hour, which is why people use them for racing, and Jenner must’ve been a champion in his day. I was in pretty good shape from volleyball at school, but I could barely keep up with him. Up ahead, Jake was nearing a busier street, and since he had already crossed the two quiet cul-de-sacs that intersected the Andersons’ street, I knew he’d have no qualms about crossing the next street. I had to reach him fast.

  “Jake!” I screamed. He looked back at me over his shoulder and kept on going. He could be so bad! All I could think about was that my mother was going to kill me. Jake was still halfway up the next block, scootering at full speed. “Jake! Stop!” I cried, louder this time. But he didn’t even turn around.

  Jenner strained at his leash. Jake was nearing the corner, with only thirty feet to go. Jenner and I crossed the final cul-de-sac—I looked both ways first—and we were only about half a block behind Jake. “Jake!” He looked back one more time and his scooter swerved a little, but he straightened it out and kept going. He was headed right for the busy main street. I froze. Then, in a split second, I just let go of Jenner’s leash. He took off at double the speed we’d been running and reached Jake in about fifteen long strides.

  Jake was so spooked by the big dog chasing him that he jumped off his scooter sideways, landing with a thud on a soft mound of lawn just before the corner.

  I ran as fast as I could and flopped down next to him, gasping, and grabbed his shirt, just in case he hopped back on. Jenner was licking Jake maniacally, and Jake was crying. I grabbed Jenner’s collar, too, so I was hanging on to both of them.

  “Jenner! Sit!” I said. “Stay,” I said firmly, holding my palm out flat toward him. I still had one hand on Jake. “Jakey, are you okay? Are you hurt?” I asked. “Don’t cry.”

  Jake was more scared and mad than anything else. “That doggy tried to bite me!” he accused, pointing a finger at Jenner. Jenner looked at him and whimpered but didn’t move.

  “Good dog,” I said. “Jake, he didn’t try to bite you. He saved you! You can’t just take off like that. It’s dangerous, and dumb, and . . . illegal!” Jake was into law enforcement big-time, so I knew to throw that in.

  That got him. Jake stopped crying. “It is not!” he said.

  I nodded, knowing I had him
now. “Yes. Kids aren’t allowed to scooter alone on the sidewalk until they’re eight. It’s a law.”

  Jake looked at me skeptically. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Well, it’s true. If we see a police officer on the way to Camden’s, we can ask. Now come on, let’s go. And don’t ever take off on me like that again, or I’ll have to turn you in at police headquarters.” I tried to make my voice sound stern. I didn’t even know where the headquarters was.

  I picked up Jenner’s leash and helped Jake back onto his scooter. I let out a big sigh of relief. Everything was under control again. Jenner stepped off the curb to do his business.

  “I still get my candy. Two,” said Jake stubbornly. It wasn’t a question but rather a statement.

  “Well . . . ,” I said. Mom was always talking about not rewarding bad behavior. And Jake was definitely bad, taking off like that.

  Jake’s lower lip began to tremble. “You said!” he accused.

  I knew I was in rough territory, but suddenly I was mad too. “Well, that was before you took off, mister!” I said. The aroma of Jenner’s business at the curb was unpleasant. I fished in my pocket for the Baggies clip.

  “I hate you!” accused Jake.

  I sighed and bent to pick up Jenner’s poop, standing on his leash so he didn’t wander away. Jake was being a pain and now I had yucky dog doo. Nothing was going according to plan. It couldn’t get worse. But as I stood up, I found myself face-to-face with Sydney Whitman, neighborhood resident, founder and president of the Popular Girls Club, and all-around mean girl, and her hench-lady Bella. Well, I thought, I guess my day can get worse.

  I never ran into Sydney except at the worst possible moments. Weeks could go by without seeing Sydney. Then I’d go outside to get the mail in my pajamas on a Saturday and she would walk by, saying, “Oh, Emma, are you sick?” I really didn’t like her. I looked at Jenner’s poop bag and Jake’s tear-streaked face, and my heart sank.