Royal Icing

by Sheryl Berk

  “Yes,” she answered simply.

  “Wow, so much for enthusiasm,” Jenna muttered under her breath. “Let’s get this thing over with.”

  As everyone gathered around, Sadie gave the cue for Kylie to pump the handle. The quartet began to play “London Bridge Is Falling Down…”

  “It’s stuck,” Kylie whispered to Sadie. “I can’t get the handle down.”

  “Push harder,” Sadie instructed her. “Delaney, Lexi, give her a hand.”

  All three girls grabbed the handle and tried to push it down. The jack wouldn’t budge.

  “Is it supposed to move?” Lillianne asked with a yawn.

  “We’re working on it,” Kylie said. “Jenna, get in here and help us!”

  “On the count of three,” Sadie instructed them. “One, two, three!”

  The handle finally yielded and the jack sprang up, taking the left side of the bridge with it. An entire row of cupcakes flew in the air as if they’d been launched out of a cannon. They landed smack on the birthday girl’s perfect white lace party dress.

  “Oh, no!” Her mother raced forward to try and rescue her. “Your dress, darling! It’s ruined!”

  Kylie braced herself for Lillianne to have a total meltdown in the middle of her party. She was completely covered in caramel frosting and chocolate candy. It was a Curly Wurly catastrophe!

  “We’re so sorry,” Kylie apologized to the Wakefields. “We’ve never used a jack before.”

  Lady Lillianne didn’t cry or scream. Instead, she just smiled from ear to ear.

  “This is the best birthday party I’ve ever had!” she exclaimed, tasting the frosting off her skirt. Her mother was delighted to see her so happy, and the rest of the guests dug into the display, oohing and ahhing about how delicious it all was.

  “It’s messy but marvelous,” the birthday girl’s neighbor told Lady Wakefield. “Such good fun!”

  Archie was mopping his head with a handkerchief. “I thought we were in serious trouble for a moment,” he told Juliette. “But that was the Duchess herself. And if she says it’s good fun, then it’s good fun.”

  The person having the most fun of all was Lillianne. She was stuffing her mouth with Curly Wurly bits and smudging frosting on her face.

  “I’m never allowed to get messy,” she explained. “I love it.”

  Jenna handed her another cupcake. “It tastes really good when you eat it like this.” She broke off the bottom of the cupcake and put it over the top, smushing it into a “cupcake-wich.”

  “Brilliant!” Lillianne squealed as the frosting oozed out the sides.

  She turned to Kylie. “Can I come bake with you some time? Is it always like this?”

  Kylie surveyed the frosting-covered floor, the mess of torpedoed cupcakes, and the guests licking their fingers.

  “Yup,” she said. “Pretty much an average day for PLC.”

  When Rodney called Juliette to check on how everything was going, she barely recognized his voice on the phone.

  “I have a touch of laryngitis,” he croaked.

  “A touch? You sound like a frog!”

  After Juliette talked to Rodney, she and the girls raced around London taking in the sights. But Kylie noticed that their advisor was not her usual cheerful self.

  “I’m just worried about Rodney,” she told them as they perched at the top of the London Eye. The giant glass Ferris wheel offered a stunning view of the entire cityscape. But Juliette barely noticed. “He never gets sick,” she said with a sigh.

  “My mom always gets a cold whenever she’s on a magazine deadline,” Kylie told her. “She says it’s from the stress.”

  “I’m sure Rodney’s laryngitis is from stress too,” Juliette replied. “He’s under so much pressure with the play. He wants it to be a huge success, and it’s all resting on his shoulders.”

  “It will be a huge success,” Kylie assured her. “Mr. Higgins is an amazing actor. The critics are going to love him.”

  Juliette shrugged. “Not if they can’t understand a word he’s saying because he’s lost his voice. Or worse! What if he can’t go on at all?”

  Later, as they wandered the rows of stands at the Harrods Food Halls sampling sweets and treats, Jenna suddenly had a brilliant idea.

  “You know, when I’m sick, my abuela has a home remedy that always works,” she mentioned.

  “What is it? Maybe we can find it here for Mr. Higgins,” Kylie said.

  “Jengibre y canela,” Jenna said. “Ginger and cinnamon.”

  “We can bring him that,” Delaney said.

  Kylie smiled. “We can do better. We can bake him that.”

  Juliette overheard their conversation. “It’s a lovely idea, girls. But there’s no time. Not if you want to get to the London Tombs today and Madame Tussauds. Kylie, I know that was top of your list.”

  Kylie saw the worry in Juliette’s eyes and her decision was easy. “Let’s go bake some get-well cupcakes for Mr. Higgins,” she said, pulling her friends with her. “Everything else can wait.”

  • • •

  It took just over an hour at the kitchen in the Culinary to whip up some cinnamon cupcakes with ginger cream-cheese frosting. Lexi made her “Rain in Spain” fondant designs, and they packaged the cupcakes in a box with a big blue bow.

  When they arrived at his flat, they found Rodney wrapped in a blanket. He looked exhausted and pale, and Juliette swooped in the room and led him back to the couch to rest.

  “I’ll make you some tea,” she said, propping his feet up on the pillows. “And the girls can serve you their get-well treats.”

  Rodney nodded. The doctor had given him strict orders not to speak until the show’s opening.

  “Do you get what song it’s supposed to be?” Lexi said, opening the box to reveal the umbrella, sombrero, and plane modeled out of fondant.

  He smiled and gave them a thumbs-up.

  “Told ya so!” Lexi said, placing a cupcake on a plate for each of the girls, Mr. Higgins, and Juliette.

  “You’re going to be okay to go on, right?” Delaney asked. “I mean, you can’t miss your own opening night!”

  Rodney frowned and shrugged.

  “Of course you’ll be fine,” Juliette said, rubbing his shoulders. “All you need is a little TLC from PLC.”

  When they said good-bye, Kylie sensed that Juliette didn’t want to leave. She held tight to Rodney’s hand.

  “I feel so bad for Mr. Higgins,” Lexi said.

  “I feel so bad for Juliette,” Kylie replied. “I’ve never seen her so upset and worried. I wish there was something we could do for her. She does everything for us.”

  They decided the best game plan was to start working on the Pygmalion cupcakes and cross their fingers that Rodney rested up and healed in time for the Sunday-night curtain.

  Juliette stayed with them at the Culinary supervising their baking. They tried to take her mind off things by talking about Blakely and what plays they wanted to put on in Juliette’s drama class.

  “I think we should do Willy Wonka,” Jenna suggested. “Can you just imagine the set we could build for that? A whole lake made out of chocolate!”

  Delaney thought that Lexi would make a great Oompa-Loompa. “I could paint your face orange for you,” she volunteered. “I’ve done a lot of plays at my school, Weber Day. I’m a pro.”

  Lexi wrinkled her nose. “Pass—even if you are a pro, no one is painting me to look like a tangerine!”

  Kylie wanted to put on Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein and play the monster himself. She stuck her arms out in front of her and pretended to have a glazed look in her eyes. “You stay. We belong dead!” she muttered.

  “Way too creepy for me,” Lexi said. “Pass again.”

  “What play would you like to do, Sadie?” Kylie asked.

&n
bsp; “Oh, that’s easy. A League of Their Own. It was a movie about a team of female ballplayers. Totally up my alley. It would make an amazing play.”

  Kylie glanced over at Juliette. She was texting Rodney for the third time in an hour.

  “So do you think any of these would work for next semester?” she asked her advisor hopefully.

  “Huh? Oh, I don’t know, Kylie. I can’t even think about school right now. I’m too worried about Rodney. Blakely is the furthest thing from my mind.”

  Kylie looked confused. “What do you mean? We’re going back next Monday.”

  “Yes, we are,” Juliette said, sighing. “And that’s the problem.”

  Kylie tried to grasp what Juliette was saying. She remembered the same feeling in the pit of her stomach when her favorite drama teacher, Miss Valentine, left Blakely. It was Juliette who had replaced her, and Juliette who had suggested that Kylie start the cupcake club. “You mean, you don’t want to go back to Blakely?”

  The words hung in the air, and Juliette didn’t argue with them.

  “I don’t know what I want,” her teacher said softly. “But Rodney is here, and I’m there. It doesn’t seem right.”

  She walked out of the kitchen and left the girls to their baking. Kylie tried to shake the thought out of her head. She couldn’t imagine PLC without Juliette there to guide them. How could they ever have a cupcake club without her?

  By Sunday morning, Rodney’s voice had improved greatly. His throat was still sore, but he was able to project and not just croak out his lines.

  “I think I’ll make it,” he assured Juliette on the phone. “Are the cupcakes ready? We have a ton of press coming to the opening-night party, and we need to impress them.”

  Juliette peered out her bedroom door into the living room of their hotel suite. Kylie, Jenna, Lexi, Sadie, and Delaney were all in period costume: long dresses, aprons, shawls, and straw hats.. Each carried two baskets of massive cupcake bouquets.

  “Looks like it,” she told Rodney. “Thank your friend Marietta in the costume department for lending us the dresses and hats. It’s very authentic. I feel like the girls could go peddle their petals in Covent Garden.”

  Rodney chuckled. “I left you all tickets at the box office. Front row. Don’t be late.”

  Juliette smiled. “I’ll be there. Don’t you worry.”

  • • •

  When they arrived at the theater that night, Rodney’s name was in huge lights on the marquee. “It gives me goose bumps!” Juliette said, snapping a picture on her phone. “I’m so proud of him.”

  “We should drop off the baskets of cupcakes backstage,” Kylie suggested.

  “Ooh! I’ll come with you!” Delaney volunteered. “I’ve always wanted to see what it’s like backstage at a real theater.”

  “Me too,” said Sadie. “You guys need extra hands to juggle all those baskets.”

  Juliette checked her watch. “Fine. Lexi, Jenna, and I will meet you in the seats. Don’t take too long.”

  “Yeah,” Lexi warned them. “And be careful with my petal piping.”

  They made their way down the alley behind the theater and knocked on the stage door. A short, bald man in a vest answered. “Can I help you?” he asked.

  “Oh, yes,” Kylie replied. “We’re here to deliver the cupcakes for the party following the show.”

  The man looked in their baskets. “I don’t see any cupcakes,” he said. “Looks like flowers to me.”

  “Oh, but they are cupcakes!” Kylie said, holding the basket closer to his nose. “Lavender honey cupcakes, to be exact. Have a sniff.”

  The man took a deep breath. “Smells good. Bet they taste good too.”

  “They do!” Delaney assured him. “They’re delicious.”

  “Delicious or not, I can’t let you back here fifteen minutes before curtain. Those are the rules, ladies.”

  Kylie smiled sweetly. “But we can’t bring all these cupcakes to our seats. They’ll get ruined. Pretty please? Couldn’t you break the rules just this once?”

  The stagehand held out his hand. “You give me one of those cupcakes, and I’ll let you inside for five minutes.”

  Kylie picked a pink rose one out of her basket and gave it to him. “Deal.”

  The backstage was bustling with activity. There were all sorts of characters in costume, hair and makeup people doing last-minute touch-ups, and a tall man with glasses who was barking orders. “He must be the director,” Delaney whispered. “He looks mean.”

  “Places! Places!” the man shouted. “Take the house to half!” The lights in the theater dimmed.

  “Oh my gosh,” Sadie said, “We’re going to miss the opening scene.”

  She and Kylie placed their baskets on a table backstage. “Let’s go, Laney,” Kylie whispered, “Before we get in trouble.”

  But it was too late. The curtain was rising, the play was starting, and Delaney was making her way with the rest of the flower girls into the Covent Garden set.

  “Delaney! No! You’re going the wrong way!” Kylie whispered from the wings.

  “Kylie, we have to get out of here—now!” Sadie said, pulling her by the arm.

  “What about Delaney?” Kylie said. “We can’t just leave her.”

  Sadie looked out onstage. There was Delaney, circling the stage and pretending to sell flowers to the British gentlemen and ladies in the scene. She looked blissfully happy in the spotlights. “I think she’s okay. Let’s get to our seats before we miss the whole show. Or worse: that director guy figures out we’re not supposed to be here.”

  During a break in the first act, the usher showed them to their seats. Lexi leaned over and grabbed Kylie’s arm. “Was that Delaney up there?” she whispered. “We thought we saw her. What’s going on?”

  “It’s a long story,” Kylie whispered back. “She kinda took a wrong turn and wound up a flower girl.”

  “Yeah, a wrong turn on purpose!” Sadie complained. “That girl always likes to be center stage!”

  “Look!” Jenna said, shaking her head in disbelief. “There she is again!”

  This time, their friend was standing right behind Eliza Doolittle as she defended herself to Henry Higgins. “I never spoke to him except to ask him to buy a flower off me,” the actress said. Rodney as Henry Higgins took notes and read them back to Eliza, making fun of the way she talked: “Ow, guv-uh-nuh, tell ’im!” He was hilarious and the audience roared with laughter.

  Delaney winked at her friends but stayed in character, listening intently to the scene unfold.

  “This is terrible!” Lexi said. “You have to get her out of there.”

  Juliette chuckled. “I think she’s doing a fine job.”

  Thankfully, during intermission, Delaney snuck out the backstage door and joined them in the audience. “Oh my gosh! I can’t believe I just played the West End.” She giggled. “Did you guys see me? I went the wrong way and wound up smack in the middle of the stage! But then I was there and it was so amazing, so I stayed and kinda winged it.”

  “You winged it very well,” Juliette said. “I’m not even sure anyone noticed an extra flower girl in the scene.”

  “I hope they noticed,” Delaney said. “I tried my best!”

  The rest of the play went smoothly—Rodney was an amazing Henry Higgins and his voice held out for the entire show, even the finale when he boomed at Eliza, “By George, I said I’d make a woman of you and I did!”

  The audience erupted into thundering applause and gave him a standing ovation. Juliette whistled through her teeth and shouted “Bravo!” as Rodney blew her a kiss from the stage.

  At the after-party, everyone congratulated the cast and crew on a job well done. The stage was set up with tables filled with all kinds of delicious treats.

  “Prestat Red Velvet Truffles!” Jenna said, sp
ying a platter. “I’m in heaven!”

  “What did you think?” Rodney asked, rushing up behind Juliette and planting a kiss on her cheek.

  “I thought you were absolutely wonderful,” she replied.

  “As did I,” said a dapper gentleman. “May I shake your hand, sir? Your Professor Higgins was spot-on!”

  Rodney blushed. “Thank you. Thank you very much.”

  “Cupcake, guh-vuh-nuh?” Delaney asked, waving the basket under the man’s nose.

  “Don’t mind if I do,” he replied, choosing a yellow daisy one. He took a bite. “And these cupcakes are spot-on as well!” He continued to make his way around the stage, mingling with the crowd.

  “Do you know who that was?” Rodney said, trying to catch his breath.

  “A guy with great taste in theater and cupcakes?” Kylie replied.

  “No! I mean, yes!” Rodney stammered. “But he’s also the chief theater critic for the Times!”

  “That means you’re gonna get a great review, right?” Delaney asked.

  Rodney crossed his fingers. “I think we have a good chance.” He turned to Juliette. “Can you believe this is happening?”

  Juliette beamed. “No, I can’t. It’s a dream come true.”

  Just then the play’s director, Nicholas Laughton, found Rodney. “Good show, old boy,” he said. “I have a few notes for you, but I think it went very well indeed.”

  Delaney held up her basket. “Cupcake?” she said, smiling. He reached in and took a white carnation one.

  “You! I know you!” Mr. Laughton said, staring at Delaney. “How do I know you?”

  Sadie grabbed her friend by the elbow and tried to tug her away. “Um, she has one of those faces,” she told the director. “Ya know.”

  “No, I don’t know,” he replied. “But you look so familiar…” Before he could get a closer look, Sadie had pulled Delaney out of his sight.

  “Phew! That was a close one!” Delaney said. “Thanks, Sadie.”

  When all the food was gobbled up, it was time for a toast. Rodney clinked a fork on the rim of his champagne flute.