by Sheryl Berk
Once again, there was a knock at her door.
“I thought I told you to bug off!” Sadie shouted angrily, figuring either Tyler or Corey had come back to torture her.
When the door creaked open, she hurled a foam football at it. “Out! Get out!”
Coach Walsh ducked, but the ball still bounced off her head. “Whoa! Take it easy. I come in peace,” she teased.
“Oh my gosh! Coach, I’m so sorry! I thought you were one of my annoying brothers,” Sadie apologized.
“Nope, just your annoying basketball coach,” Coach Walsh said, handing Sadie a white paper bag. “I got you some jelly doughnuts. I always find they’re the best medicine for whatever ails you.”
Sadie nodded and took one out. The smell of sugar immediately perked her up. She was surprisingly hungry after the whole morning ordeal.
“I bet you didn’t expect to see me here, huh?” her coach asked.
“Not really,” Sadie replied, licking the powdered sugar off her fingertips. She’d never seen Coach Walsh outside a basketball court or locker room, and certainly never out of her green-and-white Blakely Bears uniform. She usually wore her black hair in a ponytail tucked under a baseball cap. But now it was long, loose, and flowing in soft waves down her back.
“Your parents called me and told me what happened,” she explained.
Sadie rolled her eyes. “It’s humiliating. I was at a birthday party for five-year-olds, and I fell off the trampoline because I was showing off.”
Coach Walsh nodded. “I think you should stick to jump shots instead of jumping on trampolines.”
“It’s a pretty bad break,” Sadie said, sighing. “The doctor thinks I might need surgery.”
“I know. And I also know how upset you are—maybe even a little scared too?”
Sadie shrugged. “Yeah, I’ve never had an operation before. I keep picturing it like one of Kylie’s Frankenstein movies.”
Coach Walsh smiled. “I don’t think Dr. Frankenstein will be doing the surgery. I’m sure you’ll have an excellent orthopedist.”
“I guess,” Sadie said, sighing. “Still, it’s scary.”
“It is scary,” her coach replied. “And sometimes you have to face scary head-on. If a player from the opposing team is coming at you, do you turn and run—or do you stand your ground?”
Sadie knew Coach Walsh was trying to give her one of her famous pep talks—but it wasn’t working. She still felt terrible. “Why did this have to happen?” she asked quietly.
“Things happen,” Coach Walsh answered. “Stupid things. Bad things, and often to good people. The question you should be asking yourself isn’t ‘Why?’ It’s ‘What am I going to do about it?’ The challenges in life show us who we really are.”
Sadie considered for a few minutes. “I guess I have to wait and see what the doctor says. She said we’ll know in a day or two if I need surgery.”
“Until then, you’ll hope for the best, right?” her coach said. “No moping, no whining ‘Woe is me,’ no throwing footballs at people’s heads.”
Sadie chuckled. “Unless it’s my brothers’.”
Coach Walsh held out her hand to shake. “Deal!” Then she dug into the bag of doughnuts. “I could tell you ‘doughnut’ worry, everything will be okay,” she said. “But that would be a pretty bad pun, don’t you think?”
For the first time that entire day, Sadie smiled. “An awful pun! As bad as one of Jenna’s. But thanks for saying it.”
“I mean it,” Coach Walsh said, patting Sadie on the back. “The famous writer Oscar Wilde said, ‘The optimist sees the doughnut; the pessimist the hole.’”
Sadie scratched her head. Who knew Coach Walsh was into reading—or that she could be so deep? She took another doughnut out of the bag and examined it. “You know jelly doughnuts have no holes.”
Coach Walsh took a big bite. “Exactly why I love them.”
• • •
Sadie had to stay home from school and return with her mom to Dr. Cohan’s office a few days later. The doctor looked concerned as she studied the new X-ray of Sadie’s broken foot.
“I’m afraid it’s not healing as I’d hoped,” she informed them. “I think we should schedule Sadie’s surgery for Friday.”
“This Friday?” Sadie asked. “As in the day after tomorrow?” She shook her head in disbelief. “But I don’t want an operation.”
“No one does, honey,” her mom said, trying to calm Sadie down. “But you’re a very active girl who likes to play sports. You don’t want your foot preventing you from doing that, right?”
Sadie zoned out as her mom discussed the details with Dr. Cohan—something about putting a metal pin in the bone to return it to its correct position, then wearing a cast for several weeks. She felt like this was all a nightmare!
“Thanks, Dr. Cohan. We’ll see you Friday morning,” Mrs. Harris said, helping Sadie down off the exam table.
All the way home in the car, Sadie stared straight ahead and didn’t say a word.
“Honey, Dr. Cohan says she’s done this surgery hundreds of times, and you’ll be just fine. You can even go home the next day.”
Sadie wasn’t listening. She couldn’t bear to think about it. She wasn’t scared of most things—not bugs or snakes or horror movies. And people always assumed she was a tough tomboy or jock who never cried. But being in the hospital terrified her. When her cell phone rang, she hit Decline.
“I think that was Kylie,” her mom said. “She said she would call at lunchtime to check up on you.”
Sadie shrugged. She knew her friends were worrying about her, but she just didn’t have the energy to talk about what was happening. She thought maybe if she never said the actual words, it would all just go away.
“I had surgery three times—to deliver you and both your brothers,” her mom reminded her. “It wasn’t fun, but it was worth it. Look what I got.” She gave Sadie’s hand a squeeze.
Sadie was sure her brothers would make fun of her for being such a baby. She could just hear them calling her “Fraidy Sadie” like they did when she was little. Tyler had his tonsils out when he was six, and Corey fell off a jungle gym and was in the hospital for two days with a concussion. Still, as much as she tried to reassure herself that this wasn’t such a big deal, the fear kept creeping in.
“What are you scared of?” her mom asked softly.
“Everything,” Sadie replied.
“That’s an awful lot. Maybe you could pinpoint one or two things for me.”
“Being on an operating table. It hurting really bad. Not being able to run as fast when my foot heals. Disgusting hospital food.”
Her mom chuckled. “Yeah, the Jell-O is pretty lousy. But as for the other things, Dr. Cohan says the surgery is quick and painless, and your foot will be as good as new.”
Again, Sadie shrugged. What if something went wrong? Didn’t Coach Walsh say sometimes bad things happened?
“I wish I could be sure,” she told her mom.
“On Friday afternoon, this will all be over and you won’t believe how scared you were over nothing.”
Sadie hoped that was the case, but wished it was already the weekend and this was behind her.
When Sadie woke up in her hospital room, her mom and dad were sitting at her bedside, smiling.
“You did it, honey.” Her mom stroked her hair. “The surgery went perfectly and it’s all over.”
“Really?” Sadie asked, still groggy. “It’s done?”
Her dad pulled back the blanket to show her a cast up to her knee. “You’re gonna need to get a lot of autographs on this thing.”
“Ugh,” Sadie groaned. Her foot didn’t hurt, but it felt heavy under the cast.
There was a knock at the door and the nurse poked her head in. “Are you up to seeing visitors?” she asked.
Sadie nodded. “I guess.” She pushed a button, and the head of her bed rose so she could sit up.
“We came right over as soon as school got out,” Kylie said. She was carrying a huge bouquet of roses. “These are for you.”
“And these are from me.” Delaney pushed in. She handed Sadie a collection of DVDs—all her favorite comedy movies, from The Three Stooges to Despicable Me. “Those little minion dudes crack me up.”
“My present is the best,” Jenna insisted. She handed Sadie a patchwork blanket she and her mom had sewn. In the middle was a patch made from a Blakely Bears team shirt. “To keep you snug as a bug in a rug while you recoup.”
Lexi shuddered at the thought. “Eww, bugs in rugs? My present is much more creative.” She unveiled a sketch she had drawn of Sadie flying through the air on her RipStik. “You can look at this and remind yourself you’ll be back boarding in no time.”
Sadie smiled. All of the gifts were kind and thoughtful. “Thanks, guys. These are great.”
“Did we cheer you up?” Delaney asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.
“Definitely,” Sadie said, handing her a Sharpie pen. “Do you wanna sign my cast?”
While the girls were all doodling on the white plaster, the nurse brought in a tray with a cup of green Jell-O and some sad-looking yellow soup. “Dinner is served,” she said, setting it down in front of Sadie.
Sadie wrinkled her nose. “I’m not really hungry.”
“Not even for your fave cupcakes?” Kylie asked, placing a box on the tray.
She opened the lid to reveal six perfectly decorated Mocha Toffee Fudge cupcakes. Each one was topped with an edible Blakely Bears logo.
“OMG, they’re amazing,” Sadie exclaimed. “You guys did this for me?”
Kylie smiled. “Of course we did. You’re our MVP, Most Valuable Person.”
“Do you have room for one more in here?” said a voice at the door. “It looks like a party.” It was Coach Walsh. Sadie was relieved to see that her coach was still in her Blakely Bears sweatshirt and pants with a whistle dangling around her neck. She was carrying a basketball and placed it on the edge of the bed.
“Now, just because you’re going to be laid up for a while doesn’t mean I want my best player getting rusty.”
“I’m sure we can mount a net on the back of your door at home so you can practice your free throws from bed,” Mr. Harris assured her.
Jenna held up a cupcake. “And for starters, you can toss down one of these.”
Sadie took a lick of frosting. Nothing had ever tasted so delicious.
• • •
Over the next two weeks, Sadie felt like a princess, with everyone waiting on her hand and foot. Even her brothers were nice to her at first.
“That’s a pretty impressive-looking cast,” Tyler commented when she got home from the hospital. “Can I sign it?” Sadie handed him a blue Sharpie. “To my sis, Sadie, from your big bro Tyler ‘Magic’ Harris.”
Sadie groaned. “Really? Magic Harris?”
“If the name fits…” Tyler teased. “You can be Air Harris if you want.”
“I brought you some hot chocolate,” Corey said, delivering a mug brimming with mini marshmallows to her room.
“Wow, I didn’t know you knew how to boil water,” Sadie said, taking a sip. She noticed the cocoa powder was in clumps, floating on top. “Next time, stir.”
“I don’t want you to get too spoiled,” her mom said, bringing her a stack of textbooks. “Your teachers emailed your assignments so you can keep up.”
“So much for time off.” Sadie sighed. “I wasn’t missing math and history.”
Her mom opened to a chapter in Intro to Pre-Algebra. “Well, they were missing you!”
Getting around—even just downstairs to the dinner table—wasn’t easy. Sadie had to hobble and hop down each stair, being super-careful not to put any weight on her bad foot. She held on to the banister with one hand and a crutch with the other.
Corey imitated her, hopping on one foot as he set the plates and silverware on the table.
“Very funny…not!” Sadie said, pulling a chair out to sit down. She was exhausted and panting from all that effort.
“Aww, come on,” Corey teased. “It’s a new dance craze—the Hop-a-Motion!” He waved his hands in the air and hopped in a circle. “Jump up…oh, jump back! Well, I think you got the knack, Whoa-oh-oh!”
Sadie put her hands over her ears. “Stop! Please! My foot hurts enough. I don’t need a headache too.”
Corey chuckled. “Ya gotta admit, you look kinda lame. Get it? Lame? As in you can’t walk?”
Sadie groaned. So much for the royal treatment!
• • •
The time flew by, and before Sadie knew it, she was back in Blakely’s halls again—but this time she had an elevator pass. Carrying a heavy backpack around was hard enough, but with crutches and a heavy, bulky cast, it was impossible.
“Lucky,” Kylie said, trying to make her feel better. “You get to ride to class in style! I’ve got theater arts on the fifth floor. Can I catch a ride up with you?”
Sadie pushed the up button. “Sure, you can be my assistant.” She handed Kylie her backpack.
They rode up together and Kylie brought up the subject of the cupcake club.
“Speaking of assistance, do you think you’re ready to get back to baking?” she asked. “Meeting in the teachers’ lounge today after school. We really need you.”
“Do you think I’m ready?” Sadie asked. “I mean, how much help can I be on these things?” She waved her crutches.
“Are you kidding me? Crutches or no crutches, you are a baking all-star.”
“Okay…” Sadie hesitated. “I just don’t want to slow you down.”
“You won’t,” Kylie said, handing her back her bag. “See you at three fifteen—and you better have your apron on!”
Sadie perched herself on one kitchen stool and rested her cast on another.
“Well, look who’s here! Welcome home!” said Herbie, PLC’s new advisor. Juliette, their original advisor, had left her younger brother in charge when she got married and moved to London. Herbie tried hard, but he didn’t quite get the whole cupcaking thing. He was more of a robotics-engineering guy—though he did have a sweet tooth and a good heart.
“Yeah, I’m back,” Sadie said with a sigh. It felt strange to be in the Blakely teachers’ lounge after so many weeks. She couldn’t help feeling like an outsider. Hadn’t the girls gotten along just fine without her? What could she possibly do to help them in this condition?
“First order of new business,” Kylie said, calling the meeting to order. “I want to welcome back Sadie to the mix!”
Lexi and Jenna applauded enthusiastically. “And I’m sure Delaney will second that motion when she gets here,” Kylie added.
“Did I just hear my name?” Delaney asked, racing through the door. Her school, Weber Day, was a few miles away from Blakely. “Sorry, my mom was late picking me up. What did I miss?”
“Just Sadie’s return to cupcaking,” Kylie said.
“Yay, Sadie!” Delaney cheered. “We missed you!”
“It’s good to be back,” Sadie replied, “but a little weird. What if I forgot how to do stuff? What if I mess up a recipe?”
“Only one way to find out.” Kylie handed her a glass bowl and a carton of eggs. “Work your magic.”
In seconds, Sadie had expertly cracked all twelve eggs with one hand without even breaking a sweat.
Jenna examined her handiwork. “Amazing. Not a single eggshell. Chica, you’ve still got it.”
Sadie smiled. “So what’s on the agenda for the weekend?”
Kylie held up an email on her phone. “How about a hula-rious cupcake order? It’s for a surprise thirtieth birthday with a Hawaiian luau theme.”
“Ooh! I can pipe those pretty Hawaiian flowers,” Lexi said, grabbing the phone out of Kylie’s hand to read the details. “You know, white, pink, and yellow plumeria?”
“I think we should use a decorating tip and make green grass icing,” Delaney suggested. “Like those grass skirts the hula girls wear?” She snatched Jenna’s fringed scarf from around her neck and tied it around her waist.
“Aloha-oy! Aloha-oy!” She sang and swayed around the kitchen, waving her arms in the air.
“Aloha-oy…dios mío!” Jenna quipped. “You look like you’re swatting mosquitoes!”
“I believe it’s ‘aloha oe,’” Herbie pointed out, arriving just in time to add his two cents. “It means ‘farewell to thee’ or ‘hello’ or ‘love.’”
Sadie chuckled. She had missed her friends acting silly and Herbie being a know-it-all. The way they acted made every cupcake club meeting more than just business—it was fun.
“What if we sprinkled blue frosting with something that looked like sand?” she suggested. “Like crushed graham crackers.”
“That’s brilliant, Sadie!” Lexi exclaimed. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
Jenna smacked her lips together. “The flavors could be very Hawaiian: pineapple, coconut, and passion fruit.”
Kylie climbed up on a step stool and rummaged through the pantry shelves. “I know I saw some cans of crushed pineapple in here,” she said. “We used it for that pineapple upside-down cupcake order a few weeks ago.”
“Toss me down some shredded coconut while you’re at it,” Jenna said. “And some brown sugar and cream of coconut too. We can do a test batch on the pineapple coconut ones and pick up the rest of the ingredients tomorrow.”
“Hey, Lanie—luau’s over.” Lexi snapped her fingers. “I need help making the frosting and filling the piping bags.”
“Fine,” Delaney said, taking off her makeshift hula skirt and handing it back to Jenna. “But I still think it would be awesome to go to a luau.”
“Then why don’t we?” Sadie suggested. “Why doesn’t PLC deliver these cupcakes wearing authentic Hawaiian costumes?”
