“Oh. Hi,” I say.
He gives me a concerned look. “Hi. Are you okay?”
I try to smile. “Yeah. Fine. Are you all set up?”
“Almost. I forgot an extension cord and wondered if you might have one we could borrow.”
I could be mean and say no and slam the door in his face, after everything that’s happened. But I’m not going to do that. It’s not his fault that I’ve messed up so badly with my bandmates. “Sure. Come in. I think my dad has some extras in his studio.”
He steps into the entryway and I point him to the kitchen and tell him he can get a glass of water if he’s thirsty, while I go down to the studio.
“I smell chocolate,” he says when I come back. I watch as he surveys the kitchen, which is a mess right now. “Is it those cake pops you were talking about?”
I hand him the cord. “Yeah. They’re in the freezer right now. I need to finish them. Abigail was supposed to help me but . . . she left.”
He leans up against the counter. “I saw her leave. She didn’t look very happy. Was she mad about something?”
“You could say that.”
“Let me guess,” he says, sweeping the bangs out of his eyes. “She’s mad you guys aren’t playing tonight?”
I look down at my shoes and nod. It’s so embarrassing, talking to him about this.
“I’m sorry,” he says. And the way he says it, I know he means it. “Is there anything I can do? Want me to stay and help you?”
I jerk my head up, surprised by his offer. “Really? You’d do that?”
He shrugs. “Sure. Let me finish in the garage and then I’ll tell my dad I’ll walk home when we’re done.”
After he leaves, I go to work cleaning off the counters and making room for the next part of the process: icing and decorating the pops. The whole time I’m thinking how nice Bryan is to offer to stay and help me. I’m kind of nervous about him seeing me fumble around in the kitchen, but I know the extra set of hands will be worth it.
I get out the double boiler, fill the bottom of the pan with water, and put it on the stove. While I wait for the water to boil, I take the cake pops out of the freezer and put the sticks in them. When Bryan knocks on the door again, I run to let him in and then lead him to the kitchen and show him what we’ll be doing.
After the water boils, I put the white-chocolate candy pieces in the pan that sits on top of the pan of hot water. The heat from the hot water below is what will melt the chocolate.
“Can you stir while I add in the food coloring?” I ask.
He takes the wooden spoon from me and I pick up the little bottle with a red cap. I squirt in a few drops while he stirs. It becomes a pretty pink color.
“So now what?” he asks.
“Now we roll each ball of cake in the melted chocolate and then in some sprinkles. Oh, wait, I need to put the decorations in bowls.”
“Where do we set the cake pops to dry?” he asks, still stirring. “If we lay them down on the counter, one side will be smooshed, you know? I’m guessing smooshed isn’t the look you’re going for.”
He’s right. I remember the lady in the video stuck the cake pops in a piece of Styrofoam so they could stand straight up as they dried. I’m looking around the kitchen as I’m pouring sprinkles into bowls, trying to think of something that would work as well as a piece of Styrofoam. But I can’t think of anything.
“This chocolate is getting pretty hot,” he says. “Should I turn off the heat?”
“Um, I don’t think so,” I say, opening a cupboard door full of bowls. “We don’t want the chocolate to harden. Maybe turn it down a little bit?”
I’m staring into the cupboard when he says, “What about that thing?”
“What thing?” I ask.
He points at the top shelf. “I don’t know what it’s called. You put spaghetti noodles in it so the water drains? Here, let me get it.”
He reaches up and takes out the silver colander. By turning it upside down, he’s created a dome of holes and I realize it’s perfect. “You are a genius, Bryan.”
A smile spreads across his face. “Well, thanks. Pretty sure that’s the first time I’ve heard my name and the word ‘genius’ in the same sentence.”
“Come on,” I say. “Help me roll the balls in the chocolate.”
“I’ll watch you do it first,” he says. “To make sure I do it right.”
“I’ve never made them before, so I’m not really an expert,” I tell him as I pick up a cake pop. “Cross your fingers it works!”
I roll the ball through the melted chocolate and then roll it around in some green sprinkles. When I turn the cake pop upright so I can put it in the colander to cool, the whole ball slides down the stick.
“Oh no,” I say. “What’d I do wrong?”
“Maybe you need to work faster,” he says. He does one and goes through the motions much faster, but this time the cake ball falls apart before he even rolls it in the sprinkles.
I can’t believe this is happening. My chest tightens and it takes every ounce of strength I have not to burst into tears in front of him.
“I think the chocolate may be too hot,” he says as he turns the burner off. “Let’s keep trying.”
Again and again, the cake balls either fall apart or slide down the stick. I wash my hands before I sink into the kitchen chair, checking the clock on the microwave. It’s just after four o’clock. We have less than an hour to pull some amazing dessert out of thin air.
Bryan pops one of the cake balls into his mouth. “They taste pretty good,” he says. I can tell he’s trying to make me feel better, but it’s not working.
“I’m such an idiot,” I say, putting my face into my hands. “Why did I think I could pull this off?”
Bryan comes over and sits across from me. “Lily? Are you okay?”
I shake my head.
“Do you have any other food?”
I look up at him. “I made chocolate-chip cookies last night. But this is a birthday party. A surprise birthday party! I should have an amazing dessert for Sophie, and I have . . . nothing.”
With a crooked smile he says, “At least you have an amazing band, right?”
Before I can tell him it’s so funny I forgot to laugh, the doorbell rings. I get up and Bryan follows me.
When I open the door, the situation goes from bad to worse.
Isabel, Katie, and Dharsanaa are on my porch. The silver balloons they brought float above them.
“Hi, Lily,” Isabel says, holding a giant shopping bag in one hand and a big bowl of caramel corn in the other. “Are you ready to make Sophie over-the-moon happy with the best surprise party ever?”
Chapter 24
caramel corn
A PERFECT ADDITION TO ANY PARTY
I stand there with my mouth open, unable to speak.
“I know we’re early,” Isabel says, “but I wanted to make sure we had plenty of time to get things ready. Oh, and I hope it’s okay that I brought a couple of helpers along. And some homemade caramel corn.”
I think I might be sick. And not because of the caramel corn, which I love. Somehow I manage to say, “Yeah, it’s fine.”
We stand there a few seconds, looking at each other, and it feels like my heart is going to pop right out of my chest, it’s beating so hard. All I can think is, What am I going to do? What am I going to do?
“So, can we come in?” Katie asks with a nervous giggle.
“Oh, sorry. Yes, please.”
Once they’re inside, I take the bowl from Isabel and introduce them to Bryan. I explain that he came over early to set up the band equipment and then stayed to help me with the cake pops.
“Can we see them?” Isabel asks. She looks at Bryan as she says, “I bet they’re perfect!”
He doesn’t say anything, just raises his eyebrows and looks at me to answer.
My brain is scrambling, trying to figure out how I can get out of this awful situation. But there’s no way out. The Baking Bookworms
are here and the kitchen looks like a tornado has hit, and I know I have to tell them the truth.
“Follow me,” I say.
When we get into the kitchen, I set the bowl down on the counter and watch the three girls as they take in the sight of abandoned cake balls and empty sticks all over the countertops.
Isabel’s mouth drops to the floor. “What happened?”
“Something went wrong,” I tell them. “I’m not sure what I did. All I know is the cake pops didn’t turn out. I should have practiced making them first. I’m so sorry, you guys. I wasn’t honest with you. I’m a terrible baker. I try and I try, and every time, something like this happens.”
They look horrified. It’s like I’ve told them there are zombies trying to break down the front door. “So, we have no food?” Isabel asks.
“There’s still time,” Bryan says. “We can run to the bakery.” He looks at me. “Can’t we? Is your mom or dad here?”
“My dad’s out of town and my mom’s upstairs, sick with the flu.”
Now Isabel is the one who looks sick. “Lily, you have to do something. I’ve worked so hard to get people here, get a band, and all you had to do was make a dessert. Sophie’s party is ruined unless you think of something fast.”
The way she says it, like I had the easy part, makes me upset. “You asked me to cohost this party. To have it here, at my house. You’ve barely let me have a say in anything. I would have bought a nice cake and some other treats at the bakery, but you didn’t think that was special enough. And then there’s the band. Did you ever think about what it would be like for me to have to listen to another band play at my house? My friends are mad at me because you just had to have the New Pirates play at this party.” I take a deep breath. “I’ve worked so hard to make this party the best it could be. And you’re saying it’s going to be a failure because one thing didn’t go right? Well, it’s not going to be a failure. Sophie is going to have a great birthday party. Just wait and see.”
It’s quiet for a few awkward seconds before Bryan claps his hands together and says, “Okay, you know what I want to do? I want to hang some streamers. It’s, like, my favorite thing in the world. Come on, Isabel. You must have brought some streamers, right? Let’s go. Everything’s going to be fine. Streamers will help. You’ll see.”
I turn around and go to work cleaning the kitchen. Bryan’s chatting up a storm with the other girls, trying to lighten the mood, as they go through the decorations Isabel brought along. We become robots, doing what we need to do to get the place ready. As I clean, I try to think if there’s anything I can make quickly with the ingredients on hand. I check the flour and sugar containers and remember I used the last of our supply when I baked the cookies last night. And we don’t have any cake mixes in the pantry, so whipping up a cake isn’t a possibility.
As I pull out the containers of chocolate-chip cookies, I spy the pan of brownies Dad made last night. I have four dozen cookies and probably a dozen brownies. There’s got to be something I can do with them to turn them into some kind of fun dessert. I think and I think, and then an idea comes to me. The question is, can I make it work?
I run upstairs to Mom’s office and get a huge cardboard box she folded up and put in the closet. Before I go downstairs, I peek in and check on her. She’s awake and so I take a minute to tell her what happened, along with my latest and greatest idea.
“I’m proud of you, Lily,” she says. “I think it sounds fabulous.”
I run downstairs and cut one of the sides off of the box. Then I cover the large piece of cardboard with aluminum foil and set it in the middle of the dining room table. I line up the brownies from top to bottom to make a gigantic number one. Next to it, I put the cookies in the shape of a number three.
“Wow,” Isabel says behind me. “A sweet thirteen. It looks amazing, Lily.”
“Yeah. I made the chocolate-chip cookies last night, since they’re Sophie’s favorite dessert. It’s kind of a fun creation, right?”
She softly says, “They’re Sophie’s favorite? Really? I don’t think I knew that.”
I shrug. “One of them, yeah.” I continue. “We have lots of vanilla ice cream and hot fudge sauce. After Sophie blows out her candles, everyone can make a brownie or cookie sundae. Does that sound okay?”
She nods, and I see tears forming in her eyes. “I’m really sorry. About everything. I wanted to show Sophie how much she means to me, you know?” She looks down and picks at her thumbnail. “I was afraid I was losing her to you. That’s why I got the New Pirates to play and not your band.”
I stand there, my mouth gaping open. I can’t believe she was worried about losing her best friend to me. I’m the one who’s the outsider. The one who wants so badly to fit in with the Baking Bookworms.
“And I’m sorry I didn’t say anything about my horrible baking skills,” I say. “I didn’t want you guys to kick me out of the book club. I really want to be a part of it.”
“So, can we start over?” Isabel asks. “Put the stupid jealousy behind us and just be friends?”
I point to the number thirteen made out of brownies and cookies. “That’s one thing I’m really good at,” I say, smiling. “Starting over.”
Chapter 25
brownie sundaes
A GREAT WAY TO SAY “SURPRISE!”
Purple streamers twist and turn through the air, to the center of the dining room, where they gather at the sparkly chandelier. A dozen silver balloons, filled with helium, bob across the ceiling, with long, curly ribbons in a variety of colors streaming down from each one. We also hung strips of streamers in the doorways and other spaces throughout the bottom floor of the house, like curtains. It looks really cool.
The garage is decorated with streamers and balloons as well. And we moved an area rug from the basement to the garage, to make it feel more comfortable—less like a garage and more like a bonus room.
Mom came downstairs in her pink bathrobe to refill her water cup just as I was getting ready to go and change out of my grubby clothes and into my purple and black striped dress. The look on her face as she scanned the decorations and treats told me we had done a fantastic job.
Now Isabel and I are greeting kids as they arrive, taking their gifts and putting them on the coffee table in the family room. I totally forgot to get Sophie a gift. When I ran upstairs to ask Mom, who’d gone back to bed, if we had anything fun tucked away for emergencies like this, she told me the party is the best gift I could give her.
Bryan ran home to get ready and then returned with the rest of his band a little before seven. They’re hanging out in the garage until we’re ready to move the party out there. Zola hasn’t shown up, so I figure Abigail must have called her and now I’m in double trouble. There’s no time to worry about it, though. I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to figure out how to fix that mess.
As Sophie’s friends arrive, Isabel is great about introducing me as she greets each person. One of her friends, Dennis, comes in carrying the biggest gift bag I think I’ve ever seen.
After she introduces us, Isabel asks him, “What’d you get her? A new television?”
He laughs. “No.” He looks around, then leans in and whispers, “It’s this really awesome picture I took of her dog, Daisy. I blew it up and made it into a poster. Wait until you see it. It’s the best gift ever, if I do say so myself.”
“Can I see it now?” she asks him.
“No, you cannot. The birthday girl has to be the first one to see it. She’s particular about those kinds of things, you know.”
“She is?” Isabel asks.
“No,” Dennis says. “I just like saying that word. Particular. Don’t I sound really mature when I say it?”
She points Dennis to the family room so he can put his gift with the others, and after he’s gone, she whispers, “That’s Sophie’s almost-boyfriend.”
“Almost-boyfriend? As in, she likes him but he doesn’t like her?”
“No, they both like
each other, and they hang out all the time and talk on the phone and stuff.”
“So . . . they’re basically friends?”
“Yeah. But the way she talks, sometimes I think she wants to be more, you know? So, he’s her almost-boyfriend in my mind.”
I nod like I understand, but I’m not sure I really do.
Five minutes before seven thirty, I go through the house and shut off the lights. Then we all gather in the entryway.
“After Sophie rings the bell, Lily will go to the door,” Isabel explains to everyone. “She’s going to open the door really wide, and when she does, I’m going to flip on the light. As soon as the light goes on, you all yell, ‘Surprise!’ Until then, we have to be super quiet, so she doesn’t suspect anything.”
“I don’t think most of the girls here know what super quiet means,” I hear Dennis say.
A few people hush him.
We stand there quietly, waiting. My heart is pounding. Will she be surprised? Happy? Excited to see all of her friends in one place? Thrilled to see all the colorful packages and the delicious food?
I hope so, I hope so, I hope so.
When the doorbell finally rings, I’m shaking so bad, I can hardly make myself move. It’s even worse than when I got called up to be Chef Smiley’s assistant. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. As I reach for the doorknob, I take a deep breath. And then I swing the door open quickly, and as I do, the lights come on and everyone yells, “Surprise!”
Sophie squeals. Isabel and I jump out and we both say, “Happy birthday,” like we’d planned it, even though we hadn’t. It makes us laugh and then Sophie is inside, hugging us and bouncing up and down because she’s so excited.
I peek outside and see her mom wave. I wave back before I shut the door.
“I can’t believe you guys did this,” Sophie says, her eyes taking in the curtains of streamers and all the smiling faces.
“So, you’re surprised?” Isabel asks.
Sophie laughs. “More like shocked!”
We take her into the dining room and show her my special brownie and cookie creation. “That’s so clever,” she says. “How did you come up with that?”