Emma Catwalks and Cupcakes!

by Coco Simon

  “I’m still not sure how they got that frosting to taste like soft-serve ice cream,” said Katie. “I’ve been googling, but nothing is coming up.”

  “We can tinker with ideas,” said Mia. “I’m not worried. Even if we just end up doing vanilla with sprinkles in the end, I still think it will be delicious with the cotton candy cupcake.”

  We frosted and boxed the vanilla and chocolate cupcakes, and soon, it was time for my dad to pick me up. We all made a plan to meet the next day at the pool, a little later this time, and Katie would bring the goodies. (We didn’t trust Mia to bring them. She might give them all to Luis!)

  CHAPTER 5

  Work, Work, Work!

  The next day we met at the pool at one o’clock and cut the long lunch line to drop the cupcakes to Alexis. We did the same thing as we did yesterday: We saved ourselves a table, knowing the loungers would open up later, and we got in line to order lunch. Today I was going for a grilled cheese and French fries. There weren’t lots of healthy options. I wondered if Alexis’s mom made her pack her own lunch.

  As the line snaked toward the front, we could see that there was an adult woman behind the counter with Alexis, hustling around to help get the orders ready. “Smiley” Mary Jane was nowhere to be seen.

  Alexis looked happy, despite the frantic pace, and she and the woman seemed to work well together, joking as they moved around the small space in sync, helping each other out by grabbing things for each other and handing them over, like Cokes from the back cooler or a shake that was ready to be taken off the machine for someone else’s order. There was music playing—not too loudly, but fun sounding—and Aldo was bopping around to it in the back while Finn hustled around with a smile on his freckled face.

  Alexis seemed so mature to me as I watched her just then. It was almost like she was this woman’s equal. She was breezy and efficient, and they seemed to be in flow, kind of calmly but busily getting the work done.

  Since we were a little later today, there was no one in the line after us, and Alexis was able to catch her breath.

  “Hey, Mrs. Chilson! These are my friends who made the cupcakes.”

  “Oooh, wonderful! Hi, girls! Let’s all have one now while things are calm,” she said.

  Alexis grabbed the cupcake carrier, which was covered with Cupcake Club stickers that my brother Matt had designed for us, and she offered them around to everyone, including Finn and Aldo. Us Cupcakers declined, since we hadn’t had lunch yet, but Alexis’s three coworkers moaned and sighed as they each devoured a cupcake.

  “Fantastico!” said Aldo, the fry master.

  “These are insane,” agreed the kid, Finn.

  “Girls, you are so talented!” said Mrs. Chilson. “Wow!”

  “Well, as you know, we do have a business doing it,” said Alexis.

  “Yes, that’s right! I remember that from your résumé,” said Mrs. Chilson. “Oh look! Here comes Mary Jane. Yoo-hoo! Mary Jane! Have one of Alexis’s cupcakes that she brought as a treat for all of us!”

  I wondered why Mrs. Chilson was fawning over Mary Jane so much. Wasn’t Mrs. Chilson the boss and Mary Jane the employee?

  Mary Jane stomped up to the window.

  It was the moment of truth: Would she eat one of our best cupcakes and instantly be transformed from a pumpkin into a lovely princess?

  But no. It wasn’t to be.

  “I’m gluten-free,” scowled Mary Jane, poking away the cupcake Mrs. Chilson was offering her.

  We all deflated. Our plan was foiled.

  “And anyway, employees shouldn’t be eating while they’re on the job. It’s in the bylaws, if you’ve read them,” Mary Jane continued with a frown.

  Mrs. Chilson winced and closed a napkin around her cupcake wrapper, balling it in her fist. “Yes, of course. You’re right. Sorry, kids, I forgot. Back to work. No more eating on the job.”

  Mary Jane went back up behind the counter, and Mrs. Chilson came out to say good-bye to us. “Girls, I’m back to my desk for now. Great job on the cupcakes, and thank you so much for bringing them in for us. They were marvelous!”

  I looked up at Alexis and saw that her smile had faded as she concentrated on cleaning up and restocking the area, with the help of a serious-looking Finn. Aldo was cooking furiously in the back, and Mary Jane had found a stool somewhere and sat herself on it like some sort of supervisor. The music was off, and people’s heads were down as they went about their business. It was amazing how one teenage girl could bring down the mood of so many people at once.

  Poor Alexis.

  We began talking quietly among ourselves about unimportant things, and when our orders came up, we retreated to our table in a somber mood.

  “What I don’t get at all,” began Mia, leaning in and speaking softly over her tuna melt, “is why Mrs. Chilson even hired that girl? Was she helpful before Alexis came?”

  “Yeah, ’cause she sure doesn’t do anything now!” said Katie, stealing a glance back at the order window.

  “And why is Mrs. Chilson so nice to her? Isn’t Mrs. Chilson the boss?” I added.

  We chewed and pondered one of life’s many mysteries.

  Just as we finished, we heard someone call out “Mia!”

  It was Luis. Mia lit up when she saw him, and he came by the table to chat for a minute. After exchanging pleasantries he said, “I’d better get going. I just came to refill my water bottle. Aunt Janee’s covering for me.”

  “Aunt Janee?” Mia said in confusion.

  “Mrs. Chilson. She’s my aunt,” said Luis.

  “Oh! She’s so nice,” said Mia.

  “I know,” added Luis. “That’s how I got the job.”

  “Cool,” said Mia.

  “Yup. Lucky for me they’re pretty big on nepotism around here,” he said as he wandered off. Then he turned back. “Hey, don’t forget! No swimming for an hour after you eat!”

  I saluted him and Mia waved, and then he left.

  “What on Earth is ‘nepotism’?” I asked.

  Katie’s fingers flew over her phone screen as she searched for the definition of the word. “I was wondering the very same thing. Oh. Here it is. It’s when people with power favor family members, mostly by giving them jobs or important positions. Huh.”

  “I wonder what he meant by that,” said Mia.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, but I do know that I’ll soon be in an important position on a lounge chair, favoring some summer reading for the next hour!”

  “Ha-ha,” said Katie as we stood and gathered our things. We waved to Alexis, who gestured that she’d come swim with us soon, earning herself a dark look from Mary Jane, and then we were off.

  Poor Mia was continuing her weird charade of not being a great swimmer, all so she could capture Luis’s attention. It was ridiculous. Like, can you imagine faking that you were bad at something just so a boy who already likes you might like you more? It was too weird. When Alexis came into the pool during her break, she called to Mia to join us, but Mia waved her off.

  Alexis swam underwater to join us and blew a stream of water into the air when she surfaced. “What’s up with her?” she asked, jerking her thumb toward Mia.

  “Keeping up the I-can’t-swim act for Luis,” I said, shrugging. “Her loss.”

  “Too bad,” said Alexis, turning away from Mia. “Guess what? I had a great idea!”

  “What?” we asked.

  “The pool is celebrating its fifth-year anniversary with a party next weekend. I thought we should ask Mrs. Chilson if we could do a cupcake order for the event! Wouldn’t that be great?”

  I laughed. “Remember what happened when we made the cupcakes for the swim team that time?” The indoor pool had been so hot that the frosting had melted and slid off all the cupcakes, causing a mini emergency.

  Alexis and Katie smiled at the memory. “Yeah, but we thought fast and saved the day!” said Katie.

  “Just like we always do!” added Alexis. “So should we pitch it?”
<
br />   “Hey, we could make those A Summer Day cupcakes!” said Katie.

  I splashed the water with my hand. “Genius! We’re doing the testing on Friday, so, Alexis, you can bring some samples over here on Saturday, okay?”

  “It’s a plan,” agreed Alexis. “Now let’s go hang out with Mia for a minute before I have to go back to work.”

  • • •

  On Friday, the Cupcake Club got together for our usual baking session, and to bake a test batch of our version of A Summer Day cupcakes. Figuring out the right amount of cotton candy extract was the hardest part. Luckily, Katie had separated out our basic batter into four bowls and was testing different amounts of extract in each. She was so good at figuring out all the ratios and very organized in keeping track of which cupcakes were which. I was impressed, and it made me a little less mad about the modeling thing. I was lucky to have a friend like her, and it was cool how hard she was working on behalf of our business.

  I was busy baking our weekly order of mini vanilla-frosted vanilla cupcakes for our client, Mona, who ran the bridal store. She gave me my first big break in modeling, and she was our first regular cupcake client. She had a standing weekly order of a few dozen mini cupcakes (the size of a quarter) that were in a nonstaining white color that matched her bridal shop.

  “Grrrr!” Katie growled after tasting the third batch of cotton-candy cupcakes after they cooled. “I just can’t get this right. It either tastes like cough syrup or like nothing!”

  Mia had an idea. “What if I ride a bike over to the drugstore and buy some of that cotton candy in a tub? You could put real cotton candy in the batter and see what happens?”

  It seemed like a lot of effort, but Katie was at her wit’s end. “I hate to make you do it, but it’s a great idea. I just don’t know what else to do. If you go, I’ll whip up some more batter, and it will be all ready when you get back. Thank you.”

  Mia went off, and with Katie quietly measuring and mixing and Alexis updating our ledger (she keeps track of all our profits and expenses), I felt a happy sense of calm accomplishment. My friends and I had been working together for so long. We knew our roles, and we got along very well when we were working (and most of the time when we weren’t working). In contrast to Alexis’s experience at the snack bar, I felt very lucky to be in such a great work environment.

  When Katie was finished she sighed. “I also don’t know what to do for the frosting,” she said. “I’ve been tinkering with some ideas, but nothing tastes like what the Three Sisters made for their icing. I feel like I’m losing my mojo. I’m not good at this anymore.” She put her head in her hands wearily and shook her head from side to side.

  “Hey! Katie, don’t say that!” I said, coming to stand beside her. I patted her back. “I think you’re great at recipe development!”

  Katie looked up and laughed darkly. “You should see the people at my dad’s restaurant. They’re great at it! I feel like my taste buds are all confused. Now I overanalyze everything, when before I only cared if things tasted good or bad. Now there are all these other things to consider, like acidity and balance and mouthfeel and finish. Ugh! I’m so confused!”

  “Okay,” I said patiently. “Take a deep breath. Don’t overthink it. What if Alexis and I taste things for you for a little while and give you a break. Don’t worry. Your skills will come back. You just have to get those other voices out of your head, you know?”

  She sighed. “I guess.”

  Mia came in the back doorway then. “Ta-da!” She held a white plastic shopping bag aloft. “I wasn’t sure how much to get, so I got three.”

  “Great,” said Katie. “Let’s try it.” She set about pulling bunches of fluff from the tubs and packing them into measuring cups, muttering to herself and making notes on a legal pad. She’d add different amounts to the batter, and then she’d scoop the batter into the wrappers in the muffin tins and slide the tins into the oven.

  When they were ready and slightly cooled, Katie laid them out in a row. “These have the most cotton candy, these have a medium amount, and these have the least,” she said, pointing to each group of cupcakes in turn. “Let me know what you think.” Then she folded her arms and leaned back against the counter while we got to work tasting.

  I started with the medium-flavored ones, figuring it was our best bet. It was tasty but very sweet. I moved to the least sweet, and it seemed great, almost identical to the one from Three Sisters.

  Mia had started with the sweetest one and winced as she spit her bite into the trash. “Awful,” she said, shaking her head. She gulped some water and joined me at the least-sweetened batch. After her first bite she nodded and jabbed her finger at them. “Mm-hm,” she said, through a mouthful of crumbs. “It’s this one.”

  Alexis stepped in and went right for the one we both liked. She chewed thoughtfully and then said, “This one, definitely, but maybe reduce the sugar in the batter by like a quarter.” Zingo! We had our recipe!

  Next Katie pulled three small bowls of frosting out of the fridge and handed around Popsicle sticks, which is what we use to taste our frostings. (Spoons are a hassle to clean, and fingers are unprofessional!)

  We took a small dab of each icing and swirled them thoughtfully in our mouths. One was too milky. It was kind of runny and plain, so I vetoed it. The next one tasted like cream cheese frosting. It was okay but kind of salty. And the third was our usual buttercream. It actually tasted really good on the cupcakes, but it wasn’t the same as A Summer Day.

  We were stumped, and I shared Katie’s frustration. Our memory of the perfect cupcake was so good, but it was so hard to recapture.

  Finally, Alexis ventured an idea. “What if we did ice cream–covered cupcakes? Like made frosting from actual ice cream?”

  “And nothing else in it? Just whipped ice cream?” asked Katie, staring at the floor while she thought about it.

  “Uh-huh,” said Alexis. “We’ll use the walk-in fridge at work to store them until the party started.”

  “They’d have to be eaten pretty fast,” said Mia.

  “When have you ever seen our cupcakes eaten slowly?” joked Alexis. “Seriously!”

  We laughed. “It’s a good idea,” said Katie. “I have some vanilla ice cream in the freezer. Let’s try it now.”

  She quickly loaded a pint of vanilla into the stand mixer and let it blend while she readied her cake piping kit. When the ice cream was smooth but not runny, she loaded it into the cloth bag, attached the piping tip that she liked, and piped ice cream onto four cupcakes. She put the frosting bag down, and we counted down to our tasting.

  “One, two, three,” said Alexis, and we all took bites.

  “Oh wow!” I said.

  “This is it!” agreed Mia.

  “Totally easy and doable!” Katie said and grinned. “Who’d have thought it would be so easy?”

  “And it’s so economical! Only two new ingredients: cotton candy and ice cream. Yum!” bragged Alexis.

  “We’ve got ourselves a recipe, girls!” I said.

  “Look out, Mary Jane!” cried Mia.

  CHAPTER 6

  Professionals

  Alexis reported back from the pool on Saturday by text.

  We’re in! Mrs. C. loves them and wants ten dozen for next weekend’s party! Yahoo! Gotta figure out pricing later!

  I was psyched. I love it when we work hard on something, and then it turns out well. It feels so good. The same couldn’t be said about the start of Katie’s modeling career.

  On Monday morning her mom dropped us off at the photographer’s studio. She had spoken to him by phone about how the photos should look (wholesome and not too much makeup), and my mom had assured her that he was a good guy.

  Katie was nervous, and I felt bad for her. I squeezed her hand as we waited to be buzzed in, and I tried not to act too confident. This was my turf, and I wasn’t nervous at all. Once you get to a photographer’s studio—except when you’re doing head shots for your portfolio—yo
u’ve already got a job, so there’s no need to worry. Photographers want the models to look as good as possible—their jobs depend on them getting great shots.

  Inside, we checked in at the reception desk, and the receptionist directed us to a changing room in the back. Katie put on her first look, which was dressy. The ad agency had wanted to see her dressy, casual, and sporty, so she’d brought outfits for each.

  The first was a lacy beige dress that was very dressy. Poor Katie did not look comfortable in it—she kept sucking in her stomach and holding her shoulders up unnaturally high—but it was too late to say anything other than “You look nice!”

  We stopped by the hair-and-makeup area. The staff applied some very light makeup and curled her hair to make it look a little neater and more uniform in its curls. I had to admit, Katie did look very pretty. It wasn’t a traditional knockout look, but she appeared sweet and wholesome and would be perfect for certain kinds of ads, like milk or juice or sneakers.

  They sent us to wait on a bench outside the studio, and we could hear heavy metal music booming out from behind the door. Katie widened her eyes and looked at me.

  I laughed. “The model gets to pick the music, don’t worry.”

  “Phew!” said Katie, relieved.

  I patted her knee. “It’s not brain surgery. You’ll be fine.”

  “I hope so. Every cell in my body is screaming at me to get out of here.”

  “Well, just try it this once and see what you think.”

  I couldn’t believe I was now convincing Katie to model. How the tables had turned! I guess I felt good about myself because I knew the drill here, and she was so nervous. It wasn’t a nice feeling to think that her fear made me stronger and kinder, but it was the truth.

  Suddenly, the door flung open, and an Amazon strode out—a six-foot-tall, gorgeous woman, with long streaming hair, tons of makeup and tattoos, and a ball gown on—with the loud music trailing out behind her. She was intimidating, actually almost scary-looking, and Katie cowered against me. But then the woman waved at us and smiled, and Katie relaxed again.