by Sheryl Berk
Copyright © 2013 by Sheryl Berk and Carrie Berk
Cover and internal design © 2013 by Sourcebooks, Inc.
Cover design by Rose Audette
Cover illustration © Julia Denos
Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Published by Sourcebooks Jabberwocky, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.
P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567-4410
(630) 961-3900
Fax: (630) 961-2168
www.jabberwockykids.com
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication data is on file with the publisher.
Source of Production: Versa Press, East Peoria, Illinois, USA
Date of Production: June 2013
Run Number: 20685
Front Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 1: Mami’s Secret
Chapter 2: Here Comes the Bride
Chapter 3: “Bean” There, Done That
Chapter 4: A New Leash on Life
Chapter 5: A Fido Fiesta
Chapter 6: A Nice Ring to It
Chapter 7: Bridesmaids and Bunnies
Chapter 8: Viva Las Vegas
Chapter 9: Cupcakes Fit for The King
Chapter 10: Too Hot to Handle
Chapter 11: Something Borrowed
Chapter 12: With This Cupcake, I Thee Wed
Chapter 13: Puppy Love
Mami’s Tres Leches Cupcakes
The “Elvis” Peanut Butter Banana Cupcake
Dulce’s Pupcakes (for dogs, not people!)
Carrie’s Q&A with Kristin Chenoweth
A Sneak Peak at the Next Book in The Cupcake Club Series!
Acknowledgments
About the Authors
Back Cover
To our “Maddie-cakes” for bringing puppy love into our lives!
Photo by: Rosalie O’Connor
The aroma of her madre’s magdalenas rising in the oven made Jenna Medina open her eyes and leap out of bed—even though it was 6 a.m. on a Sunday and the sun was barely up. The light, sweet muffins with just a hint of lemon zest were one of her favorite breakfasts and her mom’s specialty, usually reserved for special occasions. It wasn’t her birthday…or any of her siblings’. So why the special treat? Jenna wondered.
“Where are you going?” her big sister Gabriella grumbled. “It’s too early.”
“Go back to sleep,” Jenna whispered. She hoped her mami would give her a delicate pastry right out of the oven before they were all gobbled up. That was the thing about having two older sisters and twin younger brothers—you had to fight for your share of practically everything, from food to clothes to the TV remote.
“As if I could ever sleep with all the snoring that goes on in this room!” Gabby gestured to the bunk bed above her, where Jenna’s oldest sister, Marisol, was making a loud, hissing sound through her nose.
“She’s worse than you are…and that’s saying a lot!” Gabby groaned. She pulled the pillow over her head, trying to drown out the racket. Sharing a room with two sisters wasn’t easy!
“Buena suerte…good luck!” Jenna chuckled. She wrapped the purple, fuzzy cupcake robe her BFF Kylie Carson had given her for Christmas over her pj’s. “I’m going to see what Mami is up to.”
She tiptoed down the hall of their small house and then down the stairs. She could hear her mother banging around in the cupboard. Uh-oh, Jenna suddenly thought. I hope we didn’t use up all her sugar on our last cupcake order.
Peace, Love, and Cupcakes—the club and cupcake business Jenna and her four friends Kylie, Lexi, Sadie, and Delaney ran while trying to be normal fifth graders at Blakely Elementary in New Fairfield, Connecticut—had a knack for baking up a storm. Their last batch of St. Patrick’s Day cupcakes had used up four dozen of her mom’s eggs, Jenna recalled. Not to mention all that food coloring, flour, and vanilla extract. Kylie was sure she had bought enough to make their weekly order of two hundred cupcakes for the Golden Spoon Gourmet Grocery and four more dozen custom orders. But then Lexi decided she needed to experiment more with the color of the icing.
“I’m not sure I like the green,” she sighed, piping it on a vanilla cupcake. “Does it say St. Patty’s or split pea soup to you?”
Jenna shrugged. “It kinda says ‘Spinach stuck in your teeth’ to me. I’d put in a little more blue—but you’re the artist.”
Lexi closed one eye and squinted out of the other. “I say…back to the drawing board!” Jenna wasn’t surprised; when it came to icing color, Lexi was very picky.
Each of the girls in the club had a special talent: Lexi, a talented artist, created beautiful fondant decorations and elegant swirls of frosting on each cupcake. Sadie, a star basketball player on the Blakely Bears team, was the most coordinated, able to crack an egg in one hand while stirring chocolate on the stove with the other. Kylie was the club’s president—which meant she kept track of orders, organized meetings and baking schedules, and generally kept everything running smoothly (most of the time!). Jenna liked to think of Kylie as PLC’s lemon zest—she added a “kick” to the club, whenever they needed a little push or inspiration. She reminded them what was really important (“friends and frosting!”).
Delaney—who joined PLC after Kylie met her at sleepaway camp—had not only become a great baker and decorator, but also the club’s DJ. She pitched in whenever PLC was overloaded with orders. Anytime the girls were stressing over a crazy deadline, Delaney would crank up her iPod and break into song and dance (usually Lady Gaga, Katy Perry, or Adele). It was so much fun and got everyone pumped up.
When Jenna complained last week that she was tired of the usual sound track and wanted some Latin rhythms, Delaney obliged. She jumped on the couch and sang “La Bamba” into a wooden spoon. Delaney was a riot—and the only person Jenna knew who could sing the entire “Gangnam Style” in the original Korean!
“How did you memorize that?” Sadie gasped. “I can barely memorize my multiplication tables!” Sadie had dyslexia and found anything involving numbers a challenge since they often appeared backward. Still, she had conquered her math phobia and become a valuable member of the PLC team—even leading the girls in a recent Battle of the Bakers competition on TV. They hadn’t come in first place, but received a special award for being the youngest bakers in the competition—and a check that paid for an awesome new icing printer.
Delaney smiled. “I am a whiz with lyrics. Anything I need to learn, I sing. I got a 98 on my American history test because I could rap the entire Preamble!”
Then there was Jenna. Kylie made her the official taster for the cupcake club right after their first meeting. Jenna had to admit she had some talented taste buds. She could tell with one bite what type of vanilla (Madagascar? Tahitian? Mexican?) went into a cake batter or what brand of chocolate (Callebaut from Belgium? Amadei from Italy? El Rey from Venezuela?).
While other kids at Blakely Elementary teased her about being overweight, her friends never judged her. That was the thing about PLC: everyone appreciated each other for the unique talents they
possessed—and the special people they were.
In a family of five kids where she landed smack in the middle, being appreciated was all Jenna ever wanted. She felt most of the time like she got lost in the crowd. She wasn’t as pretty as Gabby or as smart as Marisol. And her twin brothers, Enrique and Emanuel, were just too much trouble to compete with. They were six years old and in kindergarten at Blakely. Kylie had nicknamed them “Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum,” but Jenna preferred “the Disaster Duo.” Wherever they went, chaos followed.
This morning was no different: the living room looked like a tornado had swept through it. There were toys, blocks, sneakers—even a tube of toothpaste—scattered around the room. Manny was busy building with Legos in a corner, and Ricky…where was Ricky?
“You the only one up?” Jenna asked, peering behind the sofa and in the closet. Ricky loved to jump out and scare her to death, and she suspected that was what he was plotting.
“He’s with Mami mixing cake.” Manny pointed to the kitchen. “He says he’s going to join your cupcake club.”
Jenna bristled at the thought. That’s all she needed: her crazy little brother finger painting the walls of Blakely with frosting. She knew Kylie would feel the same, but Juliette, their club advisor, always reminded them, “the more the merrier.” She didn’t think anyone who wanted to join a club should be excluded. She’d never met Ricky.
“Cake? You mean magdelenas. My favorite Spanish sweet!” Jenna replied.
“No. She said it’s a wedding cake.”
Jenna looked puzzled. “A wedding cake? Why would Mami be making a wedding cake?”
Manny scratched his chin—that’s what he did whenever he was thinking something over. “Dunno.”
“Ay, dios mío!” Jenna exclaimed. It was her Spanish version of “OMG.” She would have to get to the bottom of this.
She barged through the kitchen door and found her mother and Ricky at the counter frosting a white cake.
“Buenos días, mija!” Her mom smiled brightly. Ricky held up his hands, covered in frosting: “Hola, Jenna!”
“Everyone is up so early today,” said a voice behind her. It was her mother’s boyfriend, Leo. Jenna spun around and gave him an icy stare. What was he doing here?
He tried to kiss her on the top of her head, but Jenna pulled away. Hadn’t she made it clear every time he was here that she didn’t like him? Her mother had scolded her for practically ignoring him the entire Christmas Eve dinner. Jenna had kept her face buried in her plate of cordero asado—her mom’s famous roast lamb.
“You’re very quiet, Jenna,” Leo had remarked. “Hope you’re not feeling baaaa-d.” Manny and Ricky cracked up and began making more barnyard animal sounds.
Jenna didn’t glance up once from her plate. She didn’t know what her mother saw in this guy! He thought he was funny…but he wasn’t. And no one was about to out-pun her.
She picked up a plate of veggies and pushed it under his nose. “Would you like some? You know what they say at the holidays: ‘Peas on Earth, goodwill toward man?’”
Leo slapped his hand on his thigh. “Now that’s a great one!” He laughed out loud. “But I find your mother’s orange flan more a-pealing. Get it? Oranges are a-pealing?” He continued to laugh ’til his cheeks turned red and his eyes watered.
Jenna glanced around the table: everyone was cracking up at his dumb joke. Everyone except her.
“He’s very handsome and smart,” Marisol leaned over and whispered. What did she know? She was a junior in high school and totally boy-crazy!
“And he works in manufacturing for Ralph Warren, the famous fashion designer,” Gabby sighed. “Do you think he could get me that red gown Taylor Swift wore to the Grammys for my spring dance?”
Jenna’s mom was just as smitten as her sisters. From the moment Leo Winters came into the dry cleaning store where she worked as a seamstress and remarked how beautiful and neat her stitches were, she was practically head over heels.
“We have so much in common,” she told Jenna. “We both love fashion and the Yankees and food! Leo loves my cooking!”
Well, that was clear. He made himself a guest in their house every other Friday night for dinner—whenever it was his ex-wife’s turn to take their daughter.
“He’s such a devoted papi to his little girl,” her mother cooed.
Jenna’s dad was anything but devoted. He had packed his bags suddenly one day when she was only five years old and the twins were babies. She remembered that he simply kissed her on both cheeks and walked out the door. No explanation, no good-bye. Most of the other details were fuzzy: her mom crying, her sister Marisol standing at the door and waiting for him to return.
But he never did. It was like he simply vanished off the face of the Earth. She knew Marisol pretended he was in heaven—at least that’s what she told her friends. But Jenna knew the truth—he was alive and well and living in Ecuador with his new family. Her abuela talked about it with Jenna when she went to visit her relatives in Ecuador last summer.
“Do you want to talk to him?” her grandmother asked her one day. “I can call.”
Jenna shook her head. “No. He’s gone.” She could never forgive him, and she didn’t need him. The Medinas stood by each other and they survived. Jenna’s mom got a job at Dress 4 Success Dry Cleaning, and her two sisters worked there on weekends and in the summers once they were in high school. They didn’t have a lot of money or a lot of “stuff,” but they had each other, and that’s all they ever needed.
Until he came along.
“Leo’s a really nice guy,” Marisol told Jenna. “He makes Mami happy.”
Jenna wanted to see her mother happy. But she wasn’t convinced that Leo was the answer. He tried too hard—and it got on her nerves.
On her eleventh birthday in January, he showed up with an extravagant present. “I hear you’re a Yankees fan like your mother,” he said. He tossed her an autographed ball. “That’s Derek Jeter’s signature.”
Jenna caught it and rolled it between her fingers. “Wonder how much I can get for this on eBay.”
“Jenna!” her mother scolded her in Spanish. “Dar las gracias!”
But Jenna wasn’t about to say “Thank you” or apologize for how she felt. Nothing he could do or say would ever change that. But Leo kept pushing.
Today, he was determined to show his expertise in the kitchen. This should be good for a laugh, Jenna smirked. He tied on one of her mother’s aprons and stuck a finger in the vanilla frosting.
“Hmmm, delicioso!” he said, taking a lick. He then kissed her mother on the lips. Jenna wrinkled her nose and turned away.
“I see where you get your baking talent from, Jenna,” he added. “You know my daughter, Maggie, is your age. I told her about your cupcake club, and she said it sounded—I quote—‘awesome.’ Maybe she could help you guys out sometime?”
First Ricky wanted to join PLC…now Maggie? Things were getting worse by the moment! Jenna ignored the question and sat down on a stool to watch her mother frost the cake.
“You like my cake?” her mom asked Leo.
“It’s bonita, Betty…just like you.”
If they kiss again I’m going to scream! Jenna thought.
“It’s a wedding cake,” Ricky piped up.
“No, not a wedding cake. An engagement cake,” her mother corrected him.
“Why are you baking an engagement cake? Who’s engaged?” Jenna asked.
Her mother smiled and held out her hand. On it was a sparkly pear-shaped diamond ring. “I am!”
Jenna stared at the ring…then at her mother…then at the ring again.
This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be! She didn’t want a stepfather or a stepsister. She didn’t want a wedding or an engagement or anything in their lives to change. She liked things the way they were, even if they were crowded
and a little chaotic.
Just then, Gabby and Marisol came bounding into the kitchen in their pj’s. “Manny told us…let me see the ring!” Gabby gushed, grabbing her mother’s hand. “OMG, it’s gorgeous!”
“And huge!” Marisol added. She turned to Leo. “Tell me all the deets—how did you pop the question? Did you surprise her?”
Leo blushed. “It was nothing…”
“Oh, yes it was!” Jenna’s mother insisted. “It was the most romantic night of my entire life!” She kissed Leo and Jenna’s sisters cheered: “Beso! Beso! Kiss! Kiss!” Her mother obliged, flinging her arms around Leo’s neck.
Jenna rolled her eyes. Her madre was behaving like a lovesick teenager. In fact, she was worse. Marisol’s idea of romance with her boyfriend, Wyatt, was a Knicks game on TV and a frozen pizza in the oven. Couldn’t her mom be content with that? Why did she have to go and ruin everything and get married?
“How did you propose?” Marisol pumped Leo for information. “Did you get down on one knee?”
Leo nodded. “I did. I said, ‘¿Quieres casarte conmigo?’ and my beautiful Betty said yes.”
Jenna winced. She hated when Leo spoke in Spanish. He usually confused the tenses or pronounced things wrong. Just because he worked for Ralph Warren’s international sales division did not make him an expert on languages—though he liked to brag that he spoke Spanish, French, Italian, Mandarin, and Japanese fluently.
Everything about Leo irritated her. His ties were hideous (his favorite was blue with red ladybugs on it), and he wore polka-dot socks with his business suits. He thought he was a gourmet chef but had burned the lasagna last Friday. And then there was his taste in music.
Jenna would never forget how Leo’s attempt at a gourmet dinner had nearly set their kitchen on fire.
“O sole mio!” his voice had boomed as he sprinkled shredded mozzarella on a pile of noodles for the lasagna.
“You sing good,” Ricky remarked, scooping a handful of cheese out of the bowl.
“You sing well,” Jenna corrected him.
