Cupcakes Are Forever

by Sheryl Berk

  “Why are you guys even in here?” she asked Brynn. “You’re newbies! You’re not supposed to use the kitchen unsupervised and not unless we have a meeting after school.”

  “I know. I know,” Brynn apologized. “But we had this recipe we needed to test out. It was supposed to be a surprise. We wanted to show you we could do it all by ourselves like big kids.”

  She opened the door, and smoke poured out of the room. Clementine was on a stool, fanning the smoke detector so it wouldn’t go off.

  “We messed up,” Nathaniel told her. “Big-time.”

  “Define messed up,” Kylie said, surveying the damage. There were large puddles of water on the floor and batter splashes everywhere—even on the window curtains.

  “We didn’t think it would burn, but then it did, so we got the extinguisher…” Brynn tried to explain as best she could. All Kylie could see was white foam covering the couch.

  “You set the teachers’ lounge on fire?” Kylie gasped.

  “I wouldn’t call it a fire…more like a few sparks,” Nathaniel said, staring down at his shoes. “I took the cupcakes out of the oven, and the flames scared me, so I kind of threw the muffin tin…”

  “And it landed on the couch,” Clementine continued. “And the fabric got a little toasty.” She held up a singed pillow.

  “It’s my fault. The recipe called for twenty minutes in the oven, and I forgot to set the timer,” Brynn apologized.

  “And I distracted her into watching this funny video on YouTube so the cupcakes baked for over an hour,” Clementine said.

  “But I threw the tin,” Nathaniel said. “I made it worse!”

  Kylie sat down on a sticky stool and tried to think. “Okay, all the teachers are still at assembly, so we have about fifteen minutes to get rid of the evidence.” The room smelled like burned cupcakes. “Open the windows wide,” she instructed the kids. “And get a roll of paper towels to wipe up the water and the rest of this mess.”

  “What about the toasty pillow?” Brynn asked her.

  “Hide it,” Kylie said, opening a cupboard door beneath the sink. “No one will ever look here.” She fluffed the rest of the pillows and tossed a fringed throw over the back of the couch so no one would notice the stain. “It’ll have to do for now,” Kylie told them. “But you’re going to have to tell Principal Fontina eventually…and pay for the damage.”

  “Pay?” Brynn’s eyes grew big. “I don’t have enough money in my piggy bank to buy a new teachers’ lounge!”

  “I don’t think you’ll have to buy a whole new lounge—just maybe a few pillows and have the curtains dry-cleaned,” Kylie explained. “Still, you’ll have to earn the money to pay the school back.”

  “Earn it? How?” Brynn asked.

  “By helping us tomorrow on a big cupcake order. You guys thought you were ready to be in business. Well, here’s your chance to prove it.”

  Mrs. Carson did a double take as she watched all the members of PLC Jr. file into her kitchen.

  “Kylie,” she inquired. “Who are all these kids? Did you call in the cavalry?”

  “Kind of… They’re helping,” she explained.

  “They’re bakers in training,” Delaney added. She pulled Whitney over. “This one’s my mini-me. It’s like if I were Britney Spears, she’d be my backup dancer.”

  “Oh, no I’m not,” Whitney protested. “I’m no one’s backup dancer. I’m a star.” She pulled away from Delaney and went back to helping the others unpack the ingredients.

  “Your mini-me has a mighty mouth.” Jenna chuckled. “She certainly told you off.”

  “Well, yours is eating all the ingredients before we can get them into the cupcakes,” Delaney pointed out. Roxy had found a bag of mini M&M’s and was helping herself to several handfuls.

  “Drop those candies!” Jenna bellowed. “There is no tasting unless I say so.”

  Roxy swallowed what was already in her mouth. “Well, you can’t expect us to work without feeding us,” she said. “That’s cruel and unusual punishment.”

  “You set the Blakely teachers’ lounge on fire,” Kylie reminded them. “This is your punishment. Be grateful we talked to Principal Fontina, and she’s letting you pay for the damages.”

  “Was she mad?” Nathaniel whispered. “Like red-in-the-face, steam-coming-out-of-her-ears furious?”

  Kylie shook her head. “Well, she was at first. Then I reminded her that she had asked us to start this junior cupcake club.”

  “Exactly!” Jenna said. “We would never overbake our cupcakes or set things on fire.”

  “But we did—a lot—when we first started out,” Lexi reminded her. “We were total disasters.”

  “Remember when we made a cupcake ball gown and rolled me into a birthday party…and I fell flat on my face?” Delaney recalled. “I thought that carpet would be ruined forever with frosting stains.”

  “How about the time our giant cupcake wedding cake melted in the heat?” Sadie recalled. “What a wreck that was!”

  “Or the time we made a cupcake pirate ship, and it sank?” Jenna added.

  “Sounds like you guys messed up just as much as we did,” Brynn said, overhearing. “Maybe even more. So, like my mommy says, you need to forgive and forget.”

  Kylie stared. This tiny first grader was certainly protective of her newfound clubmates. “You think so, huh?”

  “Yup,” Brynn insisted. “We know now that you have to set the timer when you start the oven.”

  “For sure,” Sadie told her. “Baking is an exact science. If the recipe says twenty minutes, you check it in twenty minutes.”

  Brynn placed an egg timer on the kitchen counter. “I even borrowed one of these from Mommy to make sure.”

  Kylie smiled. “That’s good thinking, Brynn. And very responsible of you.”

  “You sure she’s only seven years old?” Delaney asked Kylie. “She sounds kinda bossy and authoritative.”

  “She sounds like you,” Jenna said to Kylie. “She’s your mini-me!”

  Kylie watched as Brynn circled around the kitchen, making sure everything was assembled where it should be, the oven was preheated, and the mixer was plugged in and ready to go. “Did you all wash your hands?” she asked her team. “Clean hands in the kitchen!”

  “My mom says I need to be home in two hours to study for my social studies test,” Nathaniel told her.

  Brynn scowled. “That will never be enough time to bake and decorate eight dozen cupcakes for this order!” She held up a form that read “Dylan’s Fifth Birthday Circus Party.”

  “Do the math,” Sadie instructed Nathaniel. “How many cupcakes are in eight dozen?”

  Nathaniel wrinkled his brow and did some calculating on his fingers. “Eight times twelve… That’s ninety-six.”

  “Yes! Give the kid a gold star!” Jenna applauded.

  “We don’t have any gold stars,” Roxy pointed out. “But we have some mini marshmallows.”

  “Then give the kid a mini marshmallow,” Jenna said after reconsidering. “Now you. How many cupcakes can we make in the oven at once?”

  Roxy walked over, opened the oven door, and peered inside. “Let’s see. So twelve cupcakes go in one tin, and I’d say four muffin tins will fit in there—so that’s four times twelve, or forty-eight cupcakes at once.”

  “Ding-ding-ding!” Delaney sang. “A mini marshmallow for you!”

  “One!” Jenna reminded Roxy, grabbing the bag before she could take a handful.

  Kylie looked at Brynn. “So how long will it take to bake that batch of four dozen cupcakes?”

  Brynn didn’t hesitate. “Eighteen to twenty-two minutes, depending on the heat of the oven.”

  “And how long to decorate?” Lexi asked Nathaniel.

  “Well, fifteen minutes to cool the cupcake, then about two minutes
to frost each one.”

  “But what if we’re adding polka dots and rainbow swirls to each one? And what if we’re assembling them on a big-top stage that’s covered in candy?”

  Nathaniel sighed. “We have to build the stage and paint it, and then mix multicolored frosting to swirl on the cupcakes. I’m never gonna be home by six.”

  “Ooh! I can help build the big top,” Clementine insisted. “Circuses are kind of my thing.”

  “If we quickly mix the batter, I think we can bake eight dozen in about an hour,” Brynn said. “Which leaves us another whole hour to make it look circusy.”

  “Is circusy a word?” Sadie whispered to Kylie.

  “I’m not sure, but I don’t think it matters. They totally get what to do!”

  She turned to face the mini bakers. “All right, you guys, the clock’s ticking. Who’s got the recipe?”

  Brynn held up the club binder. “Confetti cupcakes with rainbow swirl buttercream.”

  “Sounds pretty,” Lexi said. “And a little complicated. You sure you’re ready for this?”

  Brynn put down the binder and clapped her hands together. “PLC Jr.,” she commanded. “Let’s show ’em what we can do.”

  • • •

  While the juniors worked diligently on baking the cupcakes, Sadie laid a large, round piece of plywood from her dad’s contracting company on the kitchen table. Her dad had built a dome-shaped cover over it that was supported by wooden dowels in its center and on the sides. “Ta-da! Your big top,” she said.

  “How are we going to drape the sides of the circus tent?” Delaney asked.

  “I’m thinking red and yellow fondant stripes,” Lexi said. “With a bright-blue flag up top and mini marshmallows and candy decorating the circus rings.”

  “I’ll color and roll out the fondant,” Delaney volunteered.

  “And I’ll make the flag and maybe some cute little animals and a ringmaster out of modeling chocolate,” Lexi added. She waved at Nathaniel, who was frantically frosting cupcakes. “Hand that piping bag to Clementine,” she instructed him. “Let’s see your sculpting skills.”

  Within minutes, the boy had managed to make a miniature elephant and lion.

  “Whoa, he’s good,” Jenna observed. “As good as you, Lexi.”

  Lexi didn’t like the sound of that. “Well, the ears on the elephant could be bigger,” she said, flattening them out with a tool. “But they’re okay.”

  Each of the PLC girls went around the room, instructing their students. “Tap the shell quickly and crisply,” Sadie told Clementine. “It’s all in the wrist. And you can do two eggs in each hand.”

  Clementine nodded. “Eggs are smaller than the balls I juggle. I might be able to do three in one hand, but that would be showing off.”

  Jenna taught Roxy how to differentiate between Tahitian and Madagascar vanilla. “You see how the Madagascar is uncomplicated and straightforward,” she said, placing a dot on the tip of Roxy’s tongue. “Now taste the Tahitian.”

  Roxy closed her eyes and licked her lips. “There’s just a tiny hint of sweet fruitiness to it,” she said.

  “Eso es increíble,” Jenna said. “You have really fine-tuned taste buds.”

  Delaney demonstrated for Whitney how to use an ice cream scoop to fill each cupcake liner precisely. “It has to be two-thirds full. If you pour too much, your cupcakes blob over the sides,” she said.

  “And if you pour too little, you wind up with flat, sad ones,” Whitney said. “When it comes to accessories and cupcake batter, less isn’t always more.”

  Brynn circled the room, jotting things down in a notebook and trying to take it all in. “I know it’s a lot to learn,” Kylie said, sitting down on a stool. “It took me forever, but now I could probably bake cupcakes with my eyes closed.”

  “Oh no,” Brynn insisted, flipping back to the first page where she had written down Sadie’s directive. “Baking is a science. If you close your eyes, you can’t see what’s in the measuring cup. And that could mess up everything.”

  “You’re right,” Kylie said. “I stand corrected.”

  “But you’re sitting,” Brynn pointed out.

  Oh my, Kylie thought. This munchkin takes things so seriously!

  “It’s a figure of speech,” Kylie tried to explain.

  “Oh, like the speech you’re making at graduation.”

  Kylie’s face turned pale. “No, I’m not making any speech.”

  “That’s not what I heard,” Brynn said. “I heard Principal Fontina telling Herbie it was the best graduation speech she’d ever read.”

  “She said that?” Kylie gasped.

  “Uh-huh,” Brynn insisted. “Can I hear it?”

  “What?”

  “The speech,” Brynn pressed.

  “It’s not a speech. It’s just something silly I wrote down.”

  Brynn flipped to a page tucked into the back of the recipe binder. “Is this it? ‘The Recipe for Success’?”

  Kylie grabbed the paper out of Brynn’s hands. “You weren’t supposed to see that!” she exclaimed.

  “Well, you asked me to open to the recipe page, and it was just sitting right there in your book,” Brynn said. “I think it’s really good. I mean, I haven’t read a lot of things in first grade, but I definitely think it’s better than ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.’”

  Kylie tucked the paper in the back pocket of her jeans. “Thanks,” she said. “‘Twinkle, Twinkle’ is a tough act to follow.”

  Brynn shrugged. “Do you think we made enough money today to buy the teachers new pillows and clean the curtains?”

  “I think we’ve got it covered,” Kylie assured her. “And I’m sure Principal Fontina will be willing to forgive and forget…if you save her one of these.” She held up a perfectly frosted rainbow-swirl cupcake.

  “I made extra,” Brynn said. “In case a few got messed up.”

  “That’s smart thinking,” Kylie said. “I always make an extra one or two dozen in case of a cupcake emergency.”

  “I know. I saw it in your speech…I mean, the thing I wasn’t supposed to see. It was under the ingredients: ‘Be prepared. Always have extras on hand for an emergency.’”

  “You remembered that?” Kylie asked.

  “Yup. Mommy says I have a photogenic memory.”

  “A photographic memory!” Kylie giggled. “It means you remember whatever you read. That’s an amazing ability.”

  Brynn seemed more concerned with the extra cupcakes. “So what do we do with them now?”

  Kylie smiled brightly and handed her the platter to pass around. “We eat them!”

  Kylie knew that an integral part of the cupcake club wasn’t just baking and decorating the cupcakes—it was getting them to the client on time and in one piece. So if her junior club was really going to eat, sleep, and breathe cupcakes, they had to understand the process from start to finish. For that reason, she invited Brynn, Nathaniel, Roxy, Whitney, and Clementine along to make the delivery. They were waiting at her house early on Saturday morning when Sadie’s father drove up in his delivery van.

  “Careful, careful, go slow,” she instructed as the juniors all gathered around the big-top display and gently hoisted it off Kylie’s kitchen table. Lexi had outdone herself with the decorations: a beautiful striped circus tent, three rings outlined in mini marshmallows, and a floor made of toasted, shredded coconut “hay.” The cupcakes sat in each ring, stacked on risers, amid tiny acrobats, clowns, and animals made out of modeling chocolate.

  “I can’t look,” Sadie said, covering her eyes, as the youngsters carried the display through the living room toward the front door.

  “Brynn, hold it higher on your side,” Kylie said. “Don’t tilt, or things will fall off.” She spoke too soon. A cupcake landed with a kerplop on the front doorstep.


  “Oh, no!” Brynn cried. “I ruined it!”

  “It’s okay,” Kylie assured her. “You made extras, remember?”

  “I’m losing my grip!” Nathaniel suddenly yelped as his side of the display swayed.

  “Steady! Steady!” Sadie shouted. “Put your back into it. Use some muscle!”

  “What muscle?” Nathaniel whined. “I don’t have any.”

  “OMG, I think I broke a nail!” Whitney said, letting go of the wood base to examine her manicure.

  “Never let go!” Kylie commanded, quickly stepping in to support the open spot. “You’re a team. You have to work together. All hands in.”

  Whitney complained but took hold of her side of the display. Little by little, they inched their way out to Mr. Harris’s minivan.

  “Where does it go?” Roxy asked.

  “Only place it will fit…the back of the van,” Sadie’s father explained. “I folded down some of the seats so you can slide it right in. Some of you can sit in the middle and two of you in the back.”

  “I get carsick in the back of vans,” Whitney insisted.

  “And when did you ever ride in the back of a van?” Roxy asked her.

  “Well, never. But I don’t want to risk it.”

  Kylie rolled her eyes and was about to reprimand them when Roxy spoke up. “Brynn and I will take the back seats.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll drive real slow,” Mr. Harris assured them.

  They eased the big top into the back and climbed in. “Keep a close eye on things,” Kylie told Brynn. “It’s a good thirty-minute drive to the party, and a lot can happen to cupcakes in thirty minutes.”

  While the others chattered away, Brynn sat staring at the cupcake display. She held her breath every time Mr. Harris stopped short or sped around a curve.

  “How’s it going back there?” Sadie glanced over her shoulder.

  “Nathaniel is drawing a portrait of me in his sketchbook,” Whitney said, batting her eyelashes.

  “Make sure you make her head really big,” Clementine teased. “If you want it to be true to life.”

  Roxy was too busy chewing gum and staring out the window to pay attention to their discussion. She blew a huge bubble and let it pop.