Icing on the Cake Page 6

  “Bring us back some snacks,” Sadie called after them.

  “Pizza!” Delaney added. “Extra cheese and pepperoni. And some garlic knots…and meatballs! Gosh, I love Venice!”

  They borrowed flour from an Italian pizzeria, sugar from a gelato shop, and bananas from an Italian bakery. They could barely carry all the ingredients and the two large pizzas back to the kitchen.

  When they returned, the mixer was whirring and there were already two batches of tres leches cupcakes baking in the oven.

  “It smells like heaven in here!” Kylie exclaimed.

  Sadie grabbed a pizza out of her hands. “No, this smells like heaven! I’m starving.”

  They gobbled up the slices and started on the batter for the Elvis show.

  “I think we should do our signature banana cake and top it with peanut butter frosting and a little marshmallow fluff,” Lexi suggested. “I can start right away coloring the fondant to make the toppers.”

  Delaney searched the albums on her iPod until she found her fave Elvis tune. “You ain’t nothing but a hound dog, cryin’ all the time!” she sang, strumming her spoon like a guitar.

  “You ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog,” Jenna chimed in. But the mention of the word dog made her suddenly sad as she remembered her little Dulce puppy at the shelter. Was the little dog waiting for her every day at the window? Was she wondering where and why Jenna had disappeared for the past several days? Jenna felt so guilty—Dulce always looked forward to her visits and greeted her with wet puppy kisses.

  Kylie read her friend’s mind. “I’m sure she’s fine, and you can see her when you get home.”

  Jenna nodded. “Yes, but that doesn’t make me miss her any less right now.”

  “You know what I think?” Lexi told her, expertly piping a purple G clef on one of the cupcakes. “It was love at first sight. You saw Dulce, and you were struck by lightning—just like Juliette and Rodney, and your mom and Leo.”

  Jenna thought about it. Maybe it wasn’t so crazy after all. She couldn’t get the tiny puppy out of her mind or her heart.

  “You think that’s how my mami feels about Leo?” she asked. She’d never considered that. She thought her mom had just rushed into the relationship without giving it much thought.

  “For sure!” Kylie said. “Do you see how her face lights up every time Leo walks in the room? It’s so sweet. They really love each other. They want to be together. It’s just like you feel about Dulce.”

  “Done!” Lexi declared, placing the last sprinkling of luster dust on the cupcakes to make them glitter. “You guys can go take these to Elvis. Sadie, Delaney, and I will start frosting and stacking the wedding tower.”

  Lexi had arranged the cupcakes on a rolling cart to spell out ELVIS.

  “We better hurry,” Kylie said, checking the time. “We have only five minutes ’til curtain!”

  They raced through the hotel lobby, weaving in and out of guests until they reached the stage door. A man was peering out, looking anxious.

  “Finally!” he shouted when he saw them. “Do you know what time it is? He’s been waiting for these. Go right out onstage.”

  Jenna gulped. “Onstage? You want us to go onstage?”

  “Yes, yes,” he said, pushing them and the cart in the direction of the wings. “Hurry up. Show’s starting!”

  Jenna and Kylie looked at each other. “He didn’t say anything about us being part of his act,” Kylie whispered. “I’m a mess! There’s peanut butter stuck to my hair!”

  But it was too late. A loud voice boomed across the theater: “Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for the one, the only, the King of Rock and Roll, Elvis Presley!”

  A trapdoor in the stage opened and smoke rolled out. Elvis rose out of the floor dressed in a white jumpsuit studded with gold. On the back of his white cape was an eagle, beaded in sequins. As the crowd went wild, he began singing, “Bright light city gonna set my soul, gonna set my soul on fire!” Fireworks suddenly exploded behind him spelling out “ELVIS” in balls of fire.

  “OMG!” Kylie gasped. “This is crazy!”

  “Get out there! Get out there!” the stage manager barked at them. “What are you waiting for?”

  “A fire extinguisher?” Jenna quipped.

  He pushed the cart of cupcakes, sending it speeding toward the center of the stage. Jenna and Kylie chased after it and stopped it just before it ran Elvis over.

  “Viva Las Vegas! Viva Las Vegas!” Elvis sang, dancing around them.

  Jenna and Kylie froze. The audience was on its feet, clapping and singing along.

  “Thank you, thank you very much,” Elvis said, mopping the sweat from his forehead with a silk scarf. He threw it to Jenna.

  “Eww!” she screamed. “Gross!”

  “You know when I started in this business, I was an itty-bitty guy with an itty-bitty guitar and itty-bitty sideburns. Then the Venice Hotel put me onstage,” he said. “And tonight, I am celebrating my hundredth performance!”

  The crowd screamed again.

  “And to help me celebrate with all of you tonight, these lovely ladies have made me some amazing cupcakes in my favorite flavor: peanut butter banana. My helpers are gonna hand these out to everyone in the audience.” Two Vegas showgirls dressed in sequins and feathers appeared from the wings with silver platters.

  “Give it up for Peace, Love, and Cupcakes!” Elvis shouted.

  “Woo-hoo!” the crowd roared. “We love you!”

  “Do they mean us…or Elvis?” Jenna joked.

  “Take a bow, ladies, take a bow!” Elvis said. “You deserve it!”

  •••

  When they got back to the kitchen, Lexi was standing on a ladder, trying to stack cupcakes on each of the tiers.

  “You guys won’t believe what happened to us!” Kylie reported. “Elvis dragged us out onstage with him…and there was fire…and smoke…and sequins.”

  “Shhh!” Lexi hushed her. “This takes complete concentration and silence.” She was delicately piping lines on each cupcake ’til the frosting on top looked like lace. “Hand me the candy pearls, Delaney,” she whispered. “Carefully!”

  “Don’t breathe,” Sadie instructed Kylie and Jenna. “The artist is at work.”

  Lexi frowned. “Did you see that sculptor working on that bust in the palazzo? He would not stand for any distractions.”

  “Like I said,” Sadie whispered. “She’s in the zone. Shhh…”

  “What can we do?” Jenna asked.

  Delaney handed her a rolling pin. “Roll fondant. My hands are killing me.”

  By 11:30 p.m., the tower was complete, all except for the giant cupcake on top.

  “My eyes are closing,” Lexi groaned. “I can’t pipe one more drop line or I’ll drop.”

  “We could get up early tomorrow, say six a.m., before we have to get dressed for the wedding,” Kylie suggested.

  Jenna nodded. “I think we take a break.” There were bits and pieces of gum paste stuck to her face, her hands, even her sneakers, and frosting, flour, and sugar coated her shirt and jeans. “A little more fondant, and I could be the giant cupcake on top.”

  Jenna’s wake-up call rang at exactly 5 a.m.

  “Good morning!” said a chipper voice from the reception desk. “This is your five o’clock wake-up call.”

  “Ugh,” Jenna yawned. “Could ya not be so happy about it?”

  “It’s a beautiful day!” the woman continued. “Lots of bright sunshine and temperatures in the 90s.”

  “Did you say 90s?” Jenna was suddenly wide awake.

  “Yes, we’re expecting a bit of a heat wave for April—103 degrees by noon.”

  “Dios mío!” Jenna slammed the receiver down. “We have a huge problema!”

  She raced through the suite and into the other bedroom
where the girls were fast asleep. “Kylie, Sadie, Lexi, Delaney—despierta! Wake up!”

  Kylie rubbed her eyes. “What’s the matter?”

  “It’s supposed to be over 100 degrees today! Our cupcakes are gonna be soup in that sun!” Jenna said, tugging off their comforters. “We need a Plan B, fast!”

  “Why didn’t you think about the cupcakes melting before?” Lexi complained.

  “Who knew we were gonna have a heat wave?” Jenna cried.

  “Calm down.” Kylie tried to be the voice of reason. “We can keep the cupcake tower indoors until dessert, in the air-conditioned lobby. Maybe set up some fans to blow on it outside when we wheel it into the garden?”

  “Okay, okay.” Jenna tried to steady her nerves. “Maybe that will work.”

  Delaney raised her hand. “Guys. Just one question: Didn’t we shut off all the power in the kitchen last night when we left?”

  “Yes,” Kylie said. “We turned off all the power like we were supposed to.”

  “Including the air conditioner!” Jenna screamed. “Double dios mio!” The girls raced through the lobby, still in their pj’s, and unlocked the door to the kitchen.

  “It’s like an oven in here,” Jenna said. “It must be 100 degrees!” She flipped on the light, and there was the cupcake tower, looking wilted.

  Lexi climbed the ladder and inspected each tier. “Oh, no! All the icing is mush!” she said. “It all melted.” She handed Jenna a cupcake with a sad little puddle of royal icing on top.

  “Let’s not panic,” Kylie said.

  Lexi nodded. “Fondant is gum paste. It will hold up better than icing. We can put a layer of buttercream under it.”

  “And we rolled out tons of it last night and put it in the fridge,” Delaney said.

  Kylie held up her cell phone. “Check this out. This is called the giant granadilla flower, and it’s native to Ecuador.” She showed her friends a large, white and purple blossom with intricate fringe petals. “That would cover each cupcake and look really pretty.”

  “Sí,” Jenna said. “I saw those in Ecuador. “They’re called the passion flower because they give off passion fruit. That would be perfect for a wedding.”

  “We could do a passion fruit buttercream under the fondant,” Sadie added. “That would be delicious with the tres leches cake.”

  Kylie looked at the clock on the oven. “Guys, I don’t want to scare you, but we have only three hours ’til we have to be dressed and ready for photos in the garden.”

  “Move! Move!” Jenna shouted. “Sadie and Kylie, you’re on the buttercream; Lexi and Delaney, you do the granadillas, and I’ll scrape off the mess on all these cupcakes!” They set the kitchen table up like an assembly line in a factory: Jenna scraped; Sadie spread on a thin layer of buttercream; Lexi and Delaney decorated. Kylie stood at the end and stacked each cupcake on the tower tiers. “Keep it comin,’” she called. “Only about 150 more to go!”

  “Qué desastre!” Jenna panted, scraping the cupcakes as fast as she could with a flat knife. “What a mess!”

  It took them two hours, but by 7:30 a.m., all of the cupcakes were done except the giant one on top.

  “Let’s cover it in white fondant and figure out what to place on top as a decoration,” Lexi said.

  Delaney rolled the gum paste smooth and thin, and Kylie helped her lower it gently over the cupcake.

  “It’s a big blank cupcake,” Jenna said. “Now what?”

  “I’m thinking! I’m thinking!” Lexi replied, frazzled. “I was going to do the monogram on a white chocolate plaque, but that would melt in the heat.”

  “We can’t just have a big white cupcake—it’ll look awful in pictures,” Delaney said.

  “Pictures! Delaney, that’s it! You’re a genius!” Jenna cried.

  She dug in her purse and pulled out the wedding invitation with a photo of her mother and Leo on it.

  “What won’t melt in the heat? A sculpture! You watched that artist sculpt a figure in the palazzo yesterday that was amazing. Let’s go find him and see if he’ll do one of my mom and Leo fast!”

  “That’s brilliant,” Lexi said. “We can put a dowel through the center of the cupcake to support it on top, and it will be an amazing keepsake for your mom and stepdad.”

  Jenna and Kylie were already out the door, racing through the Venice streets in search of the Italian sculptor. They found him setting up his wares on a table next to the gondola ride.

  “Sir! Sir!” Jenna cried. “Can you come with me—and bring your tools and some plaster? We need you to sculpt a bride and groom for a wedding cake!”

  “Che cosa?” the man asked.

  “Oh, no!” Jenna replied. “Do you speak English? Habla español?”

  “Non capisco,” the man tried to explain.

  “I don’t speak Italian, but I’m pretty sure that means, ‘I have no idea what you are saying,’” Kylie said.

  “Wait! I know someone who does speak Italian!” Jenna said. “Stay here!” she told the artist. “Don’t move!”

  She raced upstairs to the penthouse bridal suite and banged on the door. “Leo, Leo! Come quick! We need you!” she shouted.

  Leo came to the door, already in his tuxedo. “What’s up, Jenna? Everything okay? Your mom went to get ready with your sisters and brothers…”

  “That’s great—we don’t want them to see,” Kylie added.

  “See what?” Leo asked.

  Jenna grabbed his hand. “Don’t ask questions. Just come with us!” They ran back to the artist who looked frightened that they had returned.

  “Tell him we need him to make a sculpture of a bride and groom,” Jenna told Leo.

  “Signore,” Leo began. He explained what the girls needed, and that it was an “emergenza.”

  “Well?” Jenna asked. “Will he do it?”

  “Sì, sì.” The man smiled. He picked up his chisel and a small block of plaster.

  Jenna grabbed the startled gentleman by the arm. “Come with me! Quick!”

  Leo chuckled. “Try ‘Venga subito’ and he’ll understand you better. And I’ll see you at the wedding, girls, in two hours—hopefully out of your pajamas.”

  •••

  The finished sculpture looked exactly like Jenna’s mother and Leo. “It’s amazing,” Jenna said, admiring it. “How can we ever thank you?”

  He held out his hand. “400 dollari.”

  Sadie searched for an Italian translation on her phone. “He just asked you for 400 dollars.”

  “No way! That’s all the profit we made on the Elvis cupcakes!” Kylie said.

  Jenna handed over a stack of twenty-dollar bills. “Here ya go. So much for making money this weekend.”

  “Grazie,” the artist said, tipping his cap. “Buongiorno.”

  “At least we have an amazing cupcake tower for your mom’s wedding,” Kylie said. “And twenty minutes to get dressed and cleaned up.”

  The garden gazebo at the Venice Hotel was decorated with dozens of white roses and swags of lace.

  Jenna stood outside on the balcony of the bridal suite, taking it all in. The guests were already beginning to file in and take their seats. She spotted her grandma and her aunt and uncle from Ecuador, as well as her cousins. There were also tons of fashionable men and women that she assumed were Leo’s Ralph Warren colleagues.

  The suite was abuzz with activity: Gabby and Marisol were arguing over whether to wear their hair up or down; Ricky and Manny were fighting over the TV in the living room; and the PLC girls were primping in the bathroom.

  “What are you doing out here?” Kylie asked, stepping out onto the balcony. She was dressed in the gold taffeta dress Jenna’s mom had sewn for all the junior bridesmaids. It had a sweetheart neck and a puffy skirt with crinoline underneath, and the neckline fell softly around her shoulders
.

  “You look beautiful,” Jenna said.

  “So do you!” Kylie gasped. “Spin! Let me see!”

  Jenna’s dress was extraspecial: a cream-colored taffeta with a gold sash around the waist and pearls adorning the bodice. Her mother had made small cap sleeves out of lace to match the bridal veil.

  “OMG! You’re gorgeous!” Kylie gushed.

  “Of course I am,” Jenna joked. “Gorgeous is my middle name.”

  “Actually, it’s Alanza—which means ‘ready for battle,’” her sister Marisol interrupted. “Very fitting, don’t you think, for my little sis who always has a chip on her shoulder?”

  Marisol’s and Gabby’s gowns were floor-length and strapless but had the same pearl and gold sash detail as Jenna’s. “You should come say hi to Leo’s daughter, Maggie. She’s here,” Marisol told her.

  “Great.” Jenna sighed. “I can hardly wait.”

  Maggie was chatting with Lexi, Sadie, and Delaney—something about Lady Gaga coming in concert in the spring to NYC. Jenna had met her once or twice, but never thought she’d become her stepsister. It felt strange to think of yet another kid in the Medina family.

  “Hey, Jenna!” Delaney called. “We’re all gonna get tix to see Gaga in concert! Maggie’s a big fan too.”

  “I’m not gaga over Gaga,” Jenna replied.

  “You look really nice,” Maggie told her. “Your mom is an amazing dress designer. Our dad says maybe she can come work with him at Ralph Warren.”

  Jenna winced as Maggie said “our dad,” but put it out of her mind. She wouldn’t ruin things for her mom, no matter how she felt.

  A hush suddenly fell over the suite as her mother strolled out in her wedding dress. The top was completely covered in lace and pearls, and the skirt fell in soft ruffled layers to the floor. Her head was covered with a traditional mantilla, a lace shawl that draped gently over her head and shoulders. “This belonged to your abuela,” she said. “It’s something old.”

  “And your earrings are borrowed from me,” Marisol said. “My favorite pearl studs.”

  “And your dress is something new—since you made it,” Gabby chimed in. “So all that’s left is something blue.”