Mia's Recipe for Disaster

by Coco Simon

  So I let Katie drag me out into the night, and because I was with my friends, and because Katie and George are hilarious, I had a good time, no matter what was happening with Chris.

  And how lame is it to dress like a vampire, anyway? I mean, vampires are so last year!

  CHAPTER 10

  From Bad to Worse

  After I washed off my makeup that night, I climbed into bed, exhausted. I was glad I was so tired. Otherwise, I might have had trouble sleeping, because my mind was full of thoughts about Chris and Talia, not to mention that the contest deadline was only days away.

  I woke up groggy but with a weird energy coursing through me—it was now or never. I’d heard people use the expression “adrenalin rush”—when you’re really nervous or excited and get a sudden burst of energy—but it had never happened to me personally. I had about three hours left to finish the dress before I had to head to Angelo Ricco’s party with the Cupcake Club.

  “Mia, you have to eat breakfast,” Mom insisted when she heard the sound of my sewing machine going.

  “Can’t eat. Have to finish,” I told her.

  “Mia,” Mom said sternly, and I sighed and went downstairs. After a bowl of granola and a glass of OJ, I was back at work.

  Finally, I finished the last seam. I carefully cut my thread and slid the dress out of the machine. I hung it on a hanger and put the cape over it.

  “Not bad,” I said, admiring my own work. I could see a few places where thread was hanging out, and the back zipper looked a tiny bit crooked, but I could probably fix that after the fitting.

  Then I looked at the clock. It was only eleven! I had plenty of time to get ready.

  I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I took a long, hot shower and left the conditioner on my hair for a full three minutes, just like the bottle said. I properly blow-dried my hair and even used some shine oil on it. Then I put on my pink Cupcake Club T-shirt and my favorite pair of skinny jeans.

  By the time Alexis’s mom came by in her minivan to pick me up, I was feeling like myself again. Like the old, calm, confident Mia. I would go to the party and help out the Cupcake Club. I would enter the contest on time—and win! And then I would talk to Chris and see if he still liked me. I had a feeling that he did.

  Mom had lent me a garment bag, so I could safely get the dress to the party. I carefully hung it up on a hook in the backseat of the minivan. Alexis, Emma, and Katie were already in the car, and our cupcakes and table decorations were stacked back in the hatch.

  “Mia! I missed your face,” Katie said when I climbed into the seat neat to her. “You didn’t look like you with that makeup on last night.”

  Mrs. Becker turned and smiled at us. “Do you girls have everything? Are we set to go?”

  “Check and check, Mom,” Alexis told her, and then we drove to the Riccos’ house.

  The Riccos lived in a ranch-style house with a big, green front lawn covered with orange and yellow leaves and dotted with jack-o’-lanterns.

  “It’s like a regular pumpkin patch,” Katie remarked as we made our way to the front door.

  A woman dressed like a fortune-teller greeted us.

  “Hi, Mrs. Ricco,” Emma said.

  “Emma! I’m so glad you’re here,” she said.

  Emma introduced us. “This is Alexis, Katie, and Mia,” she said. “We’ll set up the cupcake table and then help you with whatever you need, okay?”

  “Oh, I am so glad to see you girls,” Mrs. Ricco said, motioning for us to follow her inside. “I’ve got the rest of the food set up, but I still need to fill all the goody bags. If you wouldn’t mind helping me with that, I’d love it.”

  “No problem,” Emma said. “It won’t take us too long to set up the table.”

  Mrs. Ricco led us down to the bottom floor of the house, which was one big family room. Orange and black crepe-paper streamers looped down from the ceiling, and handmade paper ghosts decorated the walls.

  She stopped in front of a small folding table in the corner. “Will this work?” she asked.

  “It’s perfect,” replied Alexis. “We’ll get started right away.”

  I was still holding the garment bag. “Um, Emma said it would be okay if she tried on the dress here, later. Is there someplace I can put it?”

  “Oh, sure,” Mrs. Ricco said. “I think it’s so fantastic that you’ve designed your own dress. I can’t wait to see it. Here, we can hang it up in the laundry room.”

  “Thanks,” I said, following her, and soon the dress was safely hanging from a metal rack.

  Then I got to work helping my friends. Alexis had bought two tablecloths, one orange and one black, and I folded them and draped them so that you could see both colors on the table. Then Katie set up the two round black tiers that we used to hold our cupcakes (we have two sets, white and black, and they manage to work for all kinds of events). I took some of the cobwebby stuff that Alexis had bought and piled it all around the tiers.

  “Spooky!” Katie said, standing back to get a good look.

  “And now, the cupcakes,” Emma said, holding up the carrier. “I think we should put a mix on each tier.”

  “Good idea,” Alexis agreed.

  Mrs. Ricco came over to watch. “Oh my gosh, these look yummy!” she said. “I just have to taste one.”

  Alexis handed her a jack-o’-lantern cupcake. “This one is pumpkin, our new flavor.”

  Mrs. Ricco didn’t grab a napkin or anything. She ripped off the wrapper and bit right in.

  “This is delicious,” she said after her first bite. Then she walked toward the stairs. “Angelo! Come and see the delicious cupcakes these wonderful girls made for you.”

  Ten seconds later a little boy in a Spider-Man costume (without the mask) came bounding down the stairs.

  “Cupcakes! Yay!” he said. Then he looked at Emma. “Where’s Jake?”

  “Hi, Angelo! He’ll be here soon, when your party starts,” Emma promised.

  Then the doorbell rang. Mrs. Ricco sighed. “That must be my sister, Laura. She’s always early. I’ll be back down with the goody bag stuff!”

  We set up the cupcakes neatly on the tiers and then got to work putting candy and Halloween stickers into the paper goody bags Mrs. Ricco had bought. When we were finished, I asked Emma if she could try on the dress before the party started.

  “Oh, sure,” Emma said. “I almost forgot.”

  She got her bag and then pulled a length of gray satin ribbon from it. “I was thinking that I’d use it to tie my hair back,” she explained. “You know, to put more emphasis on the dress. I think it will match perfectly.”

  “That’s a great idea,” I said, glad Emma had thought of it. “And did you bring the shoes?”

  When you’re fitting a dress on a model, it’s important she wears the shoes that go with it. The shoes you wear will affect the length of the dress, and I wanted to make sure everything was perfect.

  Emma pulled out a pair of silver high heels. “Luckily, Mom and I are the same size.”

  “They’re perfect!” I cried. “Come on, let’s get you fitted.”

  We went into the laundry room, and Emma gasped happily when I unzipped the garment bag.

  “Mia, it’s beautiful!” she cried.

  “Get changed and then call me, and I’ll zip you up,” I said, closing the door behind me.

  On the floor above, I could hear the doorbell ring again, and some kids were starting to come down the stairs, followed by their parents. I felt bad doing the fitting while the party was going on, but I promised myself it wouldn’t take long. Besides, I could see Alexis and Katie busily helping the kids with the cupcakes and snacks that Mrs. Ricco had put out.

  Then I heard the laundry door open behind me, and I turned as Emma stepped out. She looked absolutely beautiful! The long, gray dress fit perfectly on her and made her look tall and glamorous.

  The moms in the room came running up to us.

  “What a beautiful dress!” said on
e.

  “Isn’t it amazing, Laura?” asked Mrs. Ricco. “I love the cape.”

  Another mom stepped up to Emma. “I wish I had somewhere to wear this,” she said, looking at me. “I would hire you in a second to make me one just like it. In my size, of course.”

  You know that expression “beaming with pride”? Well, I must have been beaming like a lighthouse. The dress looked exactly how I’d hoped it would.

  “It needs some adjustments in a few places,” I said, taking out the pins, measuring tape, and notepad I had brought with me. “But once I’m done, it will be perfect.”

  “I love it, Mia,” Emma said.

  I had to tuck in the waist a bit, and lift up the hem about a quarter of an inch, but those changes wouldn’t be too hard. I made a note of everything, and Alexis and Katie came over to admire the dress.

  “Mind if I sit down?” Emma asked when I was done. “I’m not used to wearing these high heels. How do real models do it all day long?”

  “If you were getting paid what a real model gets paid to wear those heels, trust me, you’d find a way,” Alexis said with a laugh.

  That’s when one of the little girls in the room spotted Emma. She was dressed in a sparkly blue gown, with a crown on her head. She looked at Emma, taking in her blond hair tied back with a shiny gray ribbon, her long gown, and shiny silver shoes, and burst out into a huge smile of excitement.

  “Look, Mommy!” she cried, pointing at Emma. “She’s a princess, just like me!”

  “Hi, Isabella,” Emma said, waving. She turned to us. “That’s Isabella. She’s Angelo’s sister. Isn’t she adorable?”

  Then the adorable Isabella bolted across the room like a rocket and hurled herself into Emma’s arms for a hug.

  “Aw, how cuuuu—” Katie started to say, and then her faced changed to a mask of horror.

  I was confused—until I saw the orange icing all over Isabella’s fingers!

  “Nooooo!” I wailed. Mrs. Ricco quickly scooped her off Emma.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said.

  My heart was in my throat as I looked at Emma. Because the dress was strapless, and she wasn’t wearing the cape, most of the icing was smeared on Emma’s arms and neck. I was relieved for a second, and then I saw it. A thumbprint. One chubby orange thumbprint stamped right on the center of the neckline.

  Mrs. Ricco ran up with a bottle of seltzer. “Try this, quick!” she said. “Seltzer gets out anything.”

  Alexis grabbed a napkin for me, and I soaked it in seltzer and dabbed it on the thumbprint. Now I had a wet orange thumbprint.

  “Try salt,” suggested Mrs. Ricco’s sister, Laura. “You just rub a little in.”

  “I’ll get some!” said Mrs. Ricco, and she came a minute later with a saltshaker. I rubbed some in, but it just left me with a salty, wet thumbprint.

  “Maybe plain water will work?” Emma suggested, and we tried that, too. Nothing.

  I sat down in one of the folding chairs, feeling numb. I could try to cover up the spot with the cape, but the spot was far away from where the cape would fit. The neckline was so simple and pretty, but now, with the spot . . .

  “It’s ruined,” I said softly, tears stinging my eyes. Then I buried my head in my hands.

  “Mia?”

  I sniffled and looked up to see Katie standing in front of me. She was holding Emma’s gray satin hair ribbon.

  “I know you wanted to keep the dress plain, but I thought maybe you could use this as a trim along the neckline to hide the spot?” she said. “It’s shiny, but it’s the same shade of gray—exactly, just like Emma said.”

  I took the ribbon from Katie and held it up against the dress. The ribbon was an inch wide, just enough to cover the thumbprint but not too big to look out of place.

  “Katie, you’re a genius!” I shouted. “Quick, give me my pins!”

  Alexis handed me my pins. “Don’t move, Emma,” I warned, and then I carefully pinned the ribbon in place, to see how it would look.

  “It’s even prettier than before,” said Mrs. Ricco. “It adds just a nice little extra shimmer.”

  “Yes, it does,” I agreed.

  “Well, now that the crisis is averted, let’s get back to work!” Alexis said in her businesslike way.

  “Emma, please take off that princess dress immediately!” I ordered.

  Emma hurried to the laundry room. “You got it!”

  I turned to Katie. “Have I told you lately how awesome you are?”

  “Yes,” she said. “But I never get tired of hearing it!”

  CHAPTER 11

  Picture Perfect

  The rest of the party went smoothly. The kids and parents loved the cupcakes, and Alexis even took a few holiday orders.

  “So, Emma, can we do the photo shoot at my house tomorrow?” I asked. “Once I get it home, I’m not taking it anywhere until the pictures are taken.”

  Emma nodded. “Sure. Maybe, like, seven?”

  “Perfect,” I said. “And don’t forget the shoes.”

  Emma groaned. “This heel thing might just break my modeling career.”

  I laughed. “I promise I won’t keep you in them for too long.”

  When I got home, it was almost five o’clock. Mom walked out of her office.

  “How did it go?” she asked.

  “Well, the party went great,” I said. “But I had a little problem with the dress.” I told her all about Isabella and her orange icing hands—and how Katie had come up with the perfect solution.

  Mom opened up the garment bag. “That ribbon does add a nice shine to the dress,” she agreed. “Sewing it on might be tricky, so let me know if you need help, okay?”

  “Thanks,” I said. “I kind of need to get it done tonight. Emma is coming over tomorrow to take pictures.”

  Mom looked thoughtful. “Let me see if I can get some kind of backdrop for you. You want to make sure the dress is the focus of the photo, not what’s in the background.”

  “Good idea,” I said, and then I headed up the stairs.

  “Mia?” Mom called out, and I looked back at her. “I’m really proud of you, you know.”

  I smiled. “Yeah, I know,” I said. And then I went right up to my sewing machine.

  “Does this look straight?” Eddie was asking.

  It was Monday night, and thanks to Mom and Eddie, our living room had been transformed into a photo studio. One of Mom’s friends at the Maple Grove Women’s Club was a photographer, and Mom had borrowed a background stand and some seamless paper from her.

  The stand is basically two tall metal poles on legs, with a metal pole that goes between them. Then you can hang fabric or whatever you’re using for a backdrop on the top pole, and pull it down—kind of like a curtain. They use them at the photo studio in the mall where Mom used to take me to get my picture taken during the holidays when I was little.

  Mom’s friend had given her a big roll of white seamless paper, which is really straight and smooth when it hangs. Eddie had hooked the roll onto the top pole and was carefully pulling it down.

  Katie had come over to help out with the shoot.

  “It’s good!” she told Eddie as he fussed with the paper. “What do you think, Mia?”

  I stepped back to get a good look. “It works,” I said, nodding.

  Then Mom came downstairs with Emma, who was holding on to Mom’s arm and carefully walking in her high heels. Since my mom’s a professional stylist, I had asked her to help style Emma, and as usual Mom had made something look even more perfect. “Oh my gosh, you look gorgeous!” I cried when I saw Emma.

  Mom had pulled back Emma’s blond hair into a pretty, messy ponytail. I could see Katie looking at Emma’s hair doubtfully.

  “Don’t worry, Katie,” I assured her. “Messy is definitely in!”

  Katie grinned. “Oh good! Because that’s normally how my hair looks!”

  Emma didn’t look like she had makeup on, but up close I could see that Mom had added just a touch o
f light pink blush to her cheeks and pale pink gloss to her lips. Delicate silver earrings with a crystal dangling from each end sparkled whenever Emma moved.

  “Mia, you sewed that ribbon on perfectly,” Katie said, taking a closer look at the dress.

  “Mom gave me some tips,” I explained, smiling gratefully at my mom.

  Eddie handed me his digital camera. “All right, Mia. Work your magic!”

  I took a deep breath. I could have the best dress in the contest, but if I didn’t have a great photo, it wouldn’t matter.

  “Okay,” I said. “I’m allowed to submit four photos. So I’m thinking one with the cape, one without, one that shows the back, and one that features the slit in the skirt.”

  “Got it,” Emma said, sounding very professional. She put on the cape and stepped in front of the white backdrop. Then she put her right foot forward a little bit. The slit opened up, revealing the pink satin lining.

  “Perfect!” I said, and I started snapping pictures. “Okay, now one with your hands on your hips.”

  “Work it!” Katie called out, giggling, as Emma struck the pose.

  “Emma, you really are a natural at this,” my mom said, and Emma beamed. She really was. I could see why she kept getting modeling jobs.

  “Keep smiling,” I told her. “I want you to look like you’re superhappy to be wearing the dress.”

  “Well, I am!” Emma said, flashing her dazzling smile.

  I snapped a bunch of shots until I was sure I had enough to choose from.

  “It’s a wrap!” I called out.

  Emma walked to the nearest chair and sat down. “Thank goodness!” she cried, taking off the shoes.

  Eddie hooked the camera into a laptop he had set up in the living room. “Let’s see what you’ve got before we take everything down.”

  I leaned over his shoulder, holding my breath as the photos loaded. Then they started popping up on the screen, one by one.

  “Ooh, they came out great!” Emma cried.

  “Beautiful dress, beautiful model, beautiful photos,” said Mom. “You did such a wonderful job, Mia.”

  “If I print these out tonight, can you mail them for me while I’m in school?” I asked.