The Cupcake Diaries Collection: Katie and the Cupcake Cure; Mia in the Mix; Emma on Thin Icing; Alexis and the Perfect Recipe (35 page)

T
here was a knock on my door later. It was Mom, home from work. I had eaten the hamburger Dad made for dinner in stony silence, finished my homework (the best job I’d done in weeks, even I had to admit), and I was practicing my flute. I was trying hard to not think about cupcakes or dogs or dresses.

“Come in,” I said, pausing with the flute at my chin.

Mom opened the door. “It sounded lovely from outside,” she said.

I rolled my eyes. “I was only doing scales.” I was cranky and even a little mad at Mom, even though I knew none of this was really her fault. I got myself into this mess.

“Honey, we need to talk,” said Mom.

First Dad, now Mom. I sighed and put down the flute.

“I heard about what happened with the school bus. Again, I am so sorry that I have put this on you, with my new work schedule and all. I don’t think it will be for too much longer, though. It’s looking like they might be able to end my work suspension soon. A foundation has kicked in some money for staffing the library so that could be great news for us.” Mom smiled brightly.

“Great,” I said softly. It was great. It was just probably a little too late.

“Dad told me you had a lot on your plate. I was wondering if there’s anything I can help you with?” Mom asked.

Well,
I thought,
how about: a trip to the Quickie Mart, baking four dozen bacon cupcakes going to two locations, calling the dog-walking clients to let them know I had to cancel, attending an emergency Cupcake Club meeting, taking care of Jake, and oh, yes, buying the dress.
I really thought I could handle everything. And tonight was the first time I realized maybe I couldn’t.

“Honey?” prodded Mom.

“No, thanks,” I said finally. I couldn’t handle it,
but that didn’t mean Mom had to.

Mom looked like she didn’t believe me. She paused for a minute, watching me carefully. Then she said, “Well, how are the wedding plans coming along? Did they settle on a dress?”

I knew I should tell her. This was the perfect opportunity. And I don’t know why I didn’t. “Almost, I think,” I said. “Pretty close.”

Mom smiled. “Well, at least that’s something to look forward to. When’s the wedding? A month from now?”

“Three weeks,” I said. Three very short weeks in which to buy a dress and have it altered. Three very long weeks in which your best friends are not talking to you.

“Wow, they’d better get going on those dresses,” said Mom. She put her hands on her knees. “Well, I have to go to the grocery store really quickly to pick up some milk. Is there anything I can get for you?” She stood up.

Well . . .

“Honey?”

Okay,
I thought.
I need help.
Mom has always said she would always help me and all I had to do was ask. I thought about it for a while. Then I said, “Yes. I promised Matt I’d make cupcakes for his
team dinner tomorrow.” I didn’t tell her about Mrs. Mellgard. I was still trying to figure out if I could make four dozen cupcakes and deliver them without anyone noticing.

I got a piece of paper and wrote a list of ingredients for the bacon cupcakes.

“No problem,” said Mom. “And I think it’s very nice that you’re doing this for Matt. I’m so happy to see the family pulling together.” Then she gave me a kiss. I felt guilty. We might be pulling together, but I was falling apart inside.

Late that night I went online and e-mailed my dog-walking clients to say that due to an unforeseen workload, I would have to put them on a waiting list for the time being. I didn’t want to admit I’d been grounded. In my e-mail to Mrs. Mellgard, I made it clear that the cupcakes would still be delivered on time tomorrow (how, I was not sure), and I let Mrs. Anderson know that Jenner would be the first dog off the waiting list when my normal workload resumed.

Next I e-mailed the Cupcake Club to say that I was so sorry, but I would have to miss the meeting the next day. I kept it brief. I was fully prepared to be kicked out. And I knew I wouldn’t be a bridesmaid.

Alexis wrote back right away: “Please tell me what’s going on.”

But I couldn’t. I didn’t think she would understand and, besides, I didn’t want to. My real friends should want to be my friends even if I couldn’t be a bridesmaid. I shouldn’t have to prove that I was pulling my weight. I was pulling plenty.

Still, I couldn’t sleep that night, and I checked my e-mail again first thing the next morning, but there still wasn’t any response from Katie or Mia. I was nervous to get to lunch, and I wondered if they would even let me sit with them. Or if I wanted to.

But when I got to the cafeteria, it was Sydney I ran into first.

“Hey! I’m going to get the dress today!” said Sydney, all dressed up in a tight, sleeveless turtleneck and a miniskirt. “I guess your friend never coughed up the dough.”

“How do you know . . . I mean, how did you hear?” I asked, my face getting hot.

“I called the store to check, silly!” said Sydney brightly. “I’m going tonight with my mom and Brandi, right after cheerleading. I can’t wait!” She flounced away, leaving me standing alone, breathless in the middle of the cafeteria.

I saw Mia, Alexis, and Katie staring at me, already
eating. They hadn’t waited for me in our usual meeting spot, which wasn’t a total surprise, but it was a pretty strong move on their part. I took a long look at them, gulped, then turned and fled. “Emma!” I heard Alexis calling. But I didn’t turn around. I just kept going. I’d eat my lunch alone, in the gym, with all the weirdos.
I’d better get used to it,
I thought bitterly.

I managed to avoid everyone all day, even Alexis, who almost tried to chase me down the hall. After school I ran out the door to the bike rack and pedaled home furiously. I had decided to ask Sam to drop off the cupcakes for Mrs. Mellgard on his way to work. I thought I could hear Alexis calling me again, but I didn’t turn around. I hated everyone right now. If they couldn’t understand, then I didn’t want to be friends with them anyway.

At home I went into a baking frenzy, relieved that Mom had bought the baking supplies the previous night. Matt had met Jake at the bus and taken him to the park for a while to get him out of my hair while I got the cupcakes ready, and I was grateful for that. Jake was the last thing I could handle right now. The cupcakes were cooling on a rack and the frosting and bacon was sitting mixed and crumbled and ready, when the phone rang.

I went to answer it and saw that it was The Special Day bridal salon! What should I say? I couldn’t let it go to voice mail because then Mom or Dad would get the message. I picked up the phone, cold with fear and dread.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is Emma there please? This is Patricia from The Special Day bridal salon.”

“This is Emma,” I said, gulping.

“Oh, hello, dear. I was just calling to see if you could come into the store today. We had set aside the dress for you for Ms. Vélaz’s wedding, and Mona is getting nervous about the alterations as the time draws near.”

I realized that Patricia was being nice. Instead of saying that I couldn’t pay for it, Patricia merely suggested that I was late.

“Oh,” I said. “I’m . . . I’m not sure I can make it today.”

There was a pause. “Well . . . I can ask Mona about extending the hold period for another day or so. I just have another customer who is eager for the dress. You are going to go ahead with it, are you not?”

“Uh . . .” I had to think.

“Let’s do this,” said Patricia. “If you can get in
here today, I can legitimately hold off the other customer for another couple of days, or I can put her in a different dress. I think once you see the dress again, you’ll realize how marvelous it is on you and you’ll be able to organize everything very quickly. Okay?”

I didn’t know what to say. I should have said, “Oh, let Sydney have the dress. End my friendship with Mia, Katie, and Alexis. I’m going to quit the Cupcake Club.” It was all done already anyway, pretty much. But what I said was, “Okay.”

“Great. Then we’ll see you soon,” said Patricia. “Bye!”

I hung up. I went to frost the cupcakes and put them in their carriers. I was halfway through packing them up when Sam came in, banging the back door.

“Oh! Please tell me those are bacon cupcakes!” he cried happily.

I smiled, despite my gloom. I had made a few extra, partially in hopes of buttering up Sam.

“Yes, Sammy, these are for you.” I handed him the plate. “And now I have a favor to ask.”

“Uh-oh,” he said, through a mouthful of cupcake.

“I need you to drop these off for me in half an
hour. Two dozen go to the Mellgards’ on Race Lane. And two dozen go to the gym with Matt, for his team party.”

“Ugh,” said Sam with a sigh. He thought for a second. “I guess I can do it,” he said. And he grabbed another cupcake.

Just then his cell phone rang. “Hello?” he said.

I was so happy I could kiss him. I packed up the rest of Matt’s cupcakes. All set.

“Where? What? Dude, slow down,” said Sam in annoyance.

I glanced at him and saw that he was looking at me, his eyebrows knit together in concern.

What?
I mouthed at him, but he didn’t react. What did I do now?

“Okay, let me just write down the address. Darn it all, I’m going to be late for work tonight,” he huffed. “Bye.”

“What was that all about?” I asked, a little worried. “Is everything all right?” I pressed the tops down on the carriers. Sam was looking at me strangely.

“Nothing,” he said finally. “I’ll be ready in twenty. But you’re coming with me,” he said. “You can run in with the cupcakes while I wait in the car. It’ll be faster.” And he left the kitchen in a hurry.

“What? But I have Jake! And Dad will kill me if we leave!” I called after him. “Sam!” but he didn’t come back.

Ten minutes later, Jake and Matt walked in, and Matt ran to shower and change. He gave me a strange look, one that made me say, “What?” in annoyance, but he didn’t answer.

Jake actually helped wash the baking dishes—sort of—and shortly after we finished, Sam came down, freshly showered, followed by Matt, also freshly showered, with a backpack. Something about Sam still looked fishy, but I wasn’t going to press it, especially since I needed his help.

“Let’s hit it, kids,” Sam said, grabbing the keys to the minivan.

“What about Mom and Dad?” I asked. I couldn’t deal with more punishment.

“I’ll deal with them later,” said Sam.

The novelty of going anywhere with Sam was enough to make Jake cooperate, even without a bribe. But he was curious. “Where are we going, Sammy?” asked Jake.

“Down to the station house,” said Sam with a wink. “We’re going to book her.” And he jerked his thumb at me. I rolled my eyes and decided to go along with it all. If Sam was willing to deal with
Mom and Dad, then how much trouble could I get into? The four of us got into the minivan and set off to drop off the Mellgards’ cupcakes, Matt and his cupcakes, and return home. Or so I thought.

E
xcept that we didn’t go straight home. After the cupcake delivery to the Mellgards’, which went smoothly, and dropping off Matt, Sam turned his car in the opposite direction of home.

“Hey! Where are you going?” I asked in alarm. I was already treading on thin ice. I knew my parents would kill me for dragging Jake around this late and not doing my homework. Plus, no one had started dinner.

“Just downtown for a minute. Chill.”

Now I was annoyed. This week was just getting worse by the day. I turned and glared out the window. Then I turned back to Sam.

“Are we going to the mall?” I asked. Maybe I could run into The Special Day after all and tie up
the loose ends. Just tell Patricia thanks anyway, but it wasn’t going to happen. I didn’t want her to be mad at me. I looked over at Jake in the backseat, and I suddenly spied Matt’s backpack.

“Sam! We have to go back! Matt left his bag!” I said urgently. I didn’t want to open it because it was probably stinky, but I was pretty sure his practice clothes were in there.

“Oh,” Sam waved his hand. “I’ll . . . I’ll deal with that,” he said.

“But . . .” Then I sighed. Everyone was weird and getting weirder. The cupcakes were delivered. The dress was gone. I was done.

We parked in the mall lot and headed in. Sam carried Matt’s backpack. “What are you doing with that?” I asked, but Sam kept walking fast and didn’t answer. Sam was walking briskly right toward The Special Day.
What on Earth was going on,
I wondered. Poor Jake was jogging alongside to keep up with Sam’s long strides.

“Sam! Slow down! What’s the rush?” I asked breathlessly. “And where are we going?”

“I can’t be too late for work,” said Sam. “There’s a six-thirty show, and they need me.”

And then we were there: The Special Day.

Sam held the door and ushered us in.

“I . . . I . . .” I didn’t know what to say. Did Sam know? Was he going to make me apologize to Patricia and Mona for telling them I was going to buy the dress?