Fudging the Books by Daryl Wood Gerber

Author:Daryl Wood Gerber
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780698187566
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2015-08-10T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

COCO, BAILEY, AND I batted around theories for quite a while. We ended our discussion when Coco’s assistant begged for Coco to return to the counter. The crowd had swelled. All were clamoring for more of the Pirate’s Booty fudge. By Valentine’s Day, Sweet Sensations was bound to be overwrought with orders.

Bailey and I headed back to the shop, and throughout the remainder of the day, we continued theorizing. By the time I entered my aunt’s house for dinner, my mind was awhirl with possibilities.

“Cupcakes,” I announced as I moved through the foyer of her one-story beach home, past the marble-topped console table, to the hall. Tigger trotted in behind me. He didn’t embrace the outdoors like most cats, but he could make his way from my cottage to my aunt’s without panicking. Quickly he found his favorite velveteen footstool in the adjoining living room and leaped onto it for a nap.

My aunt exited the kitchen and met me halfway down the hall, arms extended. She bussed me on the cheek then eyed my works of art and smiled. “I think you’re getting the hang of this.”

“I used a pastry tube fitted with a starburst tip to pipe the chocolate frosting.”

“Very pretty. Nearly professional.” She chuckled. “However, perhaps you were heavy-handed with the sprinkles.”

I glanced at the tray of cupcakes and had to agree. “It’s a carryover from yesterday. The kids loved pouring glitter on their creations.”

Aunt Vera took the tray and jutted her chin toward the back of the house. “Your father and Lola are on the deck. I’ve put out some Caribbean-themed appetizers. All are easy enough for you to make.”

A crisp wind off the ocean hit me as I opened the exterior door and walked outside. I was glad I’d donned the ribbed sweater and not something flimsier. The sun, a stunning ball of orange, was halfway submerged over the horizon.

I drew in a deep calming breath. “Hi, Dad. Hi, Lola.”

The porch was set up in a cozy conversation style, with a wicker settee and a half dozen matching chairs, all facing one another. My father and Lola were sitting on the settee. On the coffee table in front of them sat platters of colorful appetizers, including a spicy dip encircled with chips, shrimp-stuffed mushrooms, and chicken-pineapple kebabs. Aunt Vera could whip up a gourmet meal almost as fast as Katie could. On a side cart stood wineglasses and a bottle of white wine in an icer. My father and Lola each held a glass of wine.

“Jenna, welcome,” Lola said. She was a vision in a silver sweater, silver leggings, and silver sandals. “You look peaked.” She rose from the settee and embraced me. “Aren’t you getting any sleep?”

“Not really. This thing with Alison . . .” I sidled to my father and pecked his cheek.

“Dear Alison,” Lola murmured. “She was a lovely woman. I had nothing but utmost respect for her. She had a talent. She knew exactly what to pare from the cookbooks she published on my behalf.

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