The studio looks, sounds, and smells amazing. Everything is perfect. And the best part is, I actually know everyone in the room: The Newlyweds—Margo and Stephen. Henry and Errol and Tristan. Chef, Angelica, and Javier. All of the Caputos, Dr. Wong . . . even the other Dr. Wong and Katie have shown up. My dad, who really did bring over all of the presents, my mom, and Cole. And, of course, Frankie and Lillian, who have crazy big smiles on their faces and who I’d bet every check in my bag full of envelopes are responsible for putting this all together. Looking around, I realize that knowing everyone in the room means everyone in the room knows me—the real me—the Liza Louise Reynolds-Silver me.
I’m pretty sure I’m going to start crying for the second time tonight, when Frankie and Lillian grab a big box from the pile of presents and hold it out in front of me. I look at them like they’re nuts.
“Guys,” I say, waving my arms around the whole room. “I don’t need a present, too.”
Frankie shoves the box at me, forcing me to take it. “Trust me, Lize, you kind of do.”
Confused, I turn to Lillian, who is still smiling.
“It’s not just from us, it’s from our families, too. Open it, open it!” she squeals with a bunch of excited little claps.
I look at my mom, who nods. “Go on, Lize.”
“I guess I have no choice!” I shrug. I unwrap the box and hand the lid to Cole, who earns a big laugh by immediately putting it on his head. Carefully, I fold back the tissue paper.
It’s the dress.
The perfectly poof-less, elegant, shine-free, midnight- blue dress that I tried on at Bloomingdale’s. I hold it up to a roomful of “Ahhs.” Frankie and Lillian beam.
“But how . . . ?”
“After the disastrous dress outing with your grandmother, we knew we had to do something drastic,” Frankie explains. “We called up Nicole—remember Nana Silver’s personal shopper?—and asked her if the dress was still available in your size. She said she had a feeling she might hear from us again.”
“She had actually put the dress on hold, just in case,” gushes Lillian. “Can you believe it?”
I shake my head. I can’t.
“Angelica helped us pull this all together,” Lillian continues, “and we knew it would be the perfect time for you to wear it, so . . .”
“I can’t believe it . . . ,” I finally manage to say.
From the back of the room where she’s been standing with Chef Antonio, Angelica walks toward me. “Well, believe it, mi amor,” she says, her bangles tinkling like bells as she puts her arm around my shoulder. “Go put on the dress you love in el baño—time to get this fiesta started.”
Angelica gives me a squeeze and then pushes me gently toward the bathroom as Cole jumps up and down at her feet. Hugging my new dress to my chest, I turn around to see her swoop him up as she always does and spin him over to the “dance floor” between the tables. Someone turns up the volume on the stereo, and soon everyone is dancing. I’m not exactly known for my impressive moves, but suddenly I can’t wait to join them. If there weren’t so many boys here, I’d start tearing off the hideous purple poof-fest before I even reach el baño.
CHAPTER 30
Frankie
Somehow, we actually pulled this alterna-mitzvah off without any drama or major disasters—I guess we’ve all had enough of both the past few months. You’d think with Tristan and Katie in the room, I’d be all kinds of stressed out, but I’m so over worrying about either of them. Watching perfect Katie nibble at her fruit salad all by herself, it hits me that I’ve never actually seen her look happy. Sure she’s cool and athletic and super smart—but if none of those things makes her happy, then she’s not really perfect, is she?
It’s still a little weird seeing Tristan with my brothers. All that time I was into him I had no idea that underneath his total hotness he was really just another Goon. Actually, it’s kind of a relief. When he’s not with Leo and Joey, he’s pretty decent to hang out with. In fact, in honor of my new “enlightened sensibility,” as Mr. Mac would say, I think I might just ask Tristan to dance. Who cares if I’m not Dancing with the Stars material—that’s his problem, right?
* * *
Lillian
Seeing Liza so happy is almost enough to make me forget about Javier. Almost, but not quite. My cheeks start burning again whenever I think about how stupid I was to believe he might actually like me like me. Frankie told me that he’s a boy and boys don’t even realize what they’re saying or how they’re acting or what it might mean most of the time. She’s probably right, but I can’t help wishing my first real dance with a boy hadn’t been a total misunderstanding. At least for me.
Still, despite feeling my heart deflate like a cartoon balloon, there was something nice about the way Javier said we were good friends—good enough that he feels comfortable just being himself around me. I mean, I’ve just spent the past six months being the new kid in school. If anyone should understand how huge it is to get to be your real self with real friends, it’s me!
So, yeah, maybe tonight didn’t turn out exactly as I’d hoped it would with Javier—but I have to say, I am still glad I danced with him. It was actually kind of cool, and excruciating at the same time. And everybody keeps praising all the paper flowers and colorful pom-poms I made (with no lavender in sight!), which is a great feeling. So even though Javier doesn’t like me back, that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun together, right? He’s out on the dance floor now with Frankie and Tristan, and he looks like he could use a partner. Now that my first dance with a boy is officially over, I might just be ready for my second.
* * *
Liza
My mom hasn’t said anything to me yet about whatever’s going on with Chef Antonio, but she doesn’t have to. They’ve been side by side since we got here, first serving people food, now on the dance floor, and I can’t remember the last time I saw her look this happy. It’s definitely strange to think about my mom being with someone besides my dad, and I’d be lying if I said part of me wasn’t still rooting for them to get back together. But even Dad is smiling, watching Mom and Chef dance—everyone is, actually—and if he can be happy for her, I should be too, right?
My dad just left me to dance with Cole and Angelica. The three of them look pretty adorable together, and I hope Stephen—who’s apparently the official party photographer—gets some good pictures. I can’t wait to see the pictures, because I’m definitely still overwhelmed by the all kinds of awesome that it took to make this party.
It’s been about three minutes since the last time I thanked my incredible friends, so I think it’s time I jumped onto the dance floor for another group hug.
So far, nothing about turning thirteen has gone as I’d expected—but it’s been way better than I could have ever imagined. Who knows what might happen next? All I can say is that right now, thirteen is feeling pretty lucky.
Acknowledgments
We want to thank our agent, Peter Steinberg, for his staunch support, advocacy, and enjoyment of a well-made cookie! We also thank our editor, Fiona Simpson, for keeping everything simmering along at a steady boil, with a consistent hand.
Thank you to our eager readers for insights and suggestions, as well as recipe requests. And to our families, who may or may not see aspects of themselves in these characters or situations, we are very grateful for a lifetime of inspiration. So to Deb’s Lili, Julian, and Ian, and to JillEllyn’s Eóin, Cullen, and Alan—you all take the cake! —DAL & JER
DEBORAH A. LEVINE’s writing for children, adults, and everyone in between has appeared in books, magazines, and online. She lives, works, eats, and occasionally cooks in Brooklyn, New York, with her husband, two kids, and two cats.
JILLELLYN RILEY is a writer, editor, and fledgling drummer. She lives in Brooklyn with her family within a few steps of great pasta, pizza, and pastries in all directions.
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the authors’ imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division
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www.SimonandSchuster.com
First Aladdin hardcover edition September 2015
Text copyright © 2015 by Deborah A. Levine and JillEllyn Riley
Jacket illustration copyright © 2015 by Annabelle Metayer
Also available in an Aladdin M!X paperback edition.
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ALADDIN is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc., and related logo is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
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Jacket designed by Jessica Handelman
Interior designed by Mike Rosamilia
The text of this book was set in Arno Pro.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Levine, Deborah A., author.
The icing on the cake / by Deborah A. Levine and JillEllyn Riley.—First Aladdin hardcover/paperback edition. pages cm.—(The Saturday cooking club; #2)
Summary: “Liza’s thirteenth birthday has been hijacked by her Nana Silver, who wants to throw her granddaughter a party more suited for a society page then the low-key celebration Liza wants. Can Liza’s friends from the Saturday Cooking Club find the right recipe and ingredients to save the day?”—Provided by publisher.
[1. Birthdays—Fiction. 2. Friendship—Fiction. 3. Cooking—Fiction.] I. Riley, JillEllyn, author. II. Title.
PZ7.1.L487Ic 2015
[Fic—dc23]
2014046623
ISBN 978-1-4424-9942-3 (hc)
ISBN 978-1-4424-9943-0 (pbk)
ISBN 978-1-4424-9944-7 (eBook)
The Icing on the Cake Page 15