#5 Icing on the Cake (10 page)

I was so happy there was only one week of school left before the Christmas break. I so needed to get away from so much, but I realized I was blessed. We had finally gotten home from the hospital, and although I couldn't sleep, I was certainly more at ease knowing my dad was downstairs resting.

There was a knock on my door, and then it opened. “It's me, Sloan. You up?”

Inside there was a serious battle going on within me. I wanted to tell her, no! Get the heck out, jerk! But I knew we needed to talk. And if
she had felt some type of way that she couldn't sleep, obviously she'd realized she'd crossed the line. Maybe resolving it now was a good thing.

“Yeah, I'm up,” she came over and sat on my bed. Usually she never needed an invitation for such an action, but cutting the fool and acting crazy with me as she had, I said, “Excuse you?”

“This is hard, Yuri. I don't know what came over me,” Sloan said.

“You made it pretty clear that you don't really think I'm your sister.”

“But you know that's not true.”

Shaking my head, I said, “Actions speak louder than words, Sloan. I was already beating myself up, and you came and made it way worse. I don't know if you trying to pay me back for everything that happened last month. I mean, I don't know.”

“Maybe internally I was acting out a little because of that. I thought you should have believed me when I said I didn't take the picture of myself. I certainly didn't send a naked picture to Reese.”

“I get that, and I apologize, but please don't forget I was also the one that helped you find out what really happened. I never said anything to make you feel like you weren't related. To say I wanted your parents dead like mine, I just don't get that. Obviously it's bothering me because I can't even sleep.”

“Well, it's bothering me too. That's why I'm in here.”

“I see that, but how do we get past such harsh words?”

“You've always been the bigger person, Yuri. You've always had a big heart. I guess I came in here to ask you to find some way to forgive me. Just the thought of losing my father—
our
father …” she said, correcting her own words, “… is scary. Thinking on it, you, Shelby, and Mom, made a good point. If Dad asked me to keep his secret, I probably would have done the same thing.”

I was glad she was coming around, but I still had bigger issues with what she'd said. “Even though you were mad at me, how could you take it to the level you did? You hurt me, Sloan.”

“I was stupid to say that mean stuff. I thought I learned something last month that I don't know it all, you know? But, Yuri, we're about to turn sixteen. We're both growing. We're both changing, and I'm learning I'm not perfect. I know you hate me,” Sloan uttered, looking sad.

“I love you, Sloan,” I let slip from the depths of my soul.

“You still do?” she said, getting a little emotional. “Because I love you too. You're my best friend, and I need some grace.” We hugged.

“Well you will be proud of me on this, Yuri. I know the baking contest is coming up tomorrow, and I got a ton of people who're ready to taste your cupcakes and vote for you.”

“That's right, that thing is tomorrow. Why can't it just be Christmas break already?” I squealed, placing the covers over my head.

Sloan pulled the covers back. “What's wrong with you? You love baking, and how's it going with Ms. Pinky, anyway? It was too cool to see Paris all in your corner at the hospital.” I just smiled.

“Get some rest,” she said as she kissed me on my cheek and tucked me in the bed.

She used to love doing that when we were little. We're just a couple days apart, but she liked pretending like she was the big, big sister. Now that that was settled, I went to sleep with ease. Forgiveness is a great thing. Even when you don't think you have it in your heart to be able to forgive, once you try—I mean really want to mend the relationship—love makes it easy.

Nine hours later it was twelve o'clock in the afternoon, and I was in the cafeteria with my red velvet cupcakes. My sisters had come through. My line was the longest. There were six contestants. We each had to bake one hundred cupcakes and whosever were gone first, based on word of mouth or by marketing, was the contest winner. As soon as Ms. Newton said go, my cupcakes were gone first. Everybody was talking about how delicious they were. I won. It felt good being victorious in something I loved. As soon as I felt on top of the world, I spotted Logan looking dejected. Though I was out of
the hundred cupcakes I brought, I had two extras that I was going to eat for myself. I took them both and went over to her.

“Here, you want one?” I said, handing one to her.

She shook her head. “Please don't tempt me. I come to school, and I can't really eat anything, and I certainly don't need any cupcakes. Look at me; I'm a slob.”

“You're beautiful,” I said to her. “What's wrong with a few curves here and there?” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

“I'm just tired of getting picked on. I'm tired of my own battle. I hate my whole life.”

I scooted my chair closer to her and leaned in and said, “Logan, I'm worried about you. Your life is valuable, but you gotta know that.”

“I'm trying to believe that. You being nice to me has meant a lot. But sometimes I just can't see any reason to go on.”

My heart was so heavy at that moment. “Logan, you have so much to live for.”

“I'm trying to believe you, but who am I?”

I placed my hand on her shoulder and said,
“You're a girl who deserves a chance in this life. A chance to reach your hopes and dreams. A chance to achieve anything. A chance at happiness. I'm working on my own weaknesses. You can do the same. Just don't give up on you. You've still got so much to do.”

“Just you taking the time to say that to me, Yuri, gives me hope. I am worthy of living. Thank you so much.”

“There you are,” Rhonda said as I entered Ms. Pinky's for another lesson.

I was going to have to get a backbone. My parents needed to understand this lady had nothing to teach me, but because I didn't want to upset my dad while he was recuperating or bother my mom while she was into her case, I followed instructions.

My sister Slade dropped me off. I so wish Ansli was off punishment and driving again. I missed our talks. Unfortunately, back in September she skipped school with the car and lost her privileges until further notice, and my
parents hadn't given her notice that she could start driving again.

“Is she here?” I said to Rhonda.

Rhonda pointed her head towards the back. “She wanted to show you how to make some crust, but she needed to get it in the oven an hour ago, and you weren't around, so she's a little upset. She wants to be able to teach you some things, but she's just not trying to go above and beyond so you better let her know you're here.”

I huffed. But before I could step to the back, she stepped to the front. Her mean face showed she detested me.

Frowning she huffed, “I thought I heard someone—you can't call? I didn't know if you were going to stop coming or what. I mean, I'm not here to hold your hand, and while I'm not paying you, I could have other people working with me because I do need extra hands.”

I thought,
You just want free labor. Me doing your work so that you won't have to do it yourself
. Before she got a chance to fuss at me anymore, customers came in, which was exciting. Though I looked at the pretty treats, in my mind I thought,
Don't eat them! Don't want one! Something's wrong!
Maybe she made it with outdated ingredients; maybe she dropped it on the floor, which was hard to accept because, again, everything really looked delicious. Who knows what else could be wrong with her goodies? More than likely something was.

A lady pulling a little girl who looked weak said, “I need to speak to Ms. Pinky.”

She was bent down on the floor getting muffins out of a box. Ms. Pinky stood up after she put the new treats in the display. “Yes, what do you need from me? What do you want?”

Both Rhonda and I looked at her like, why would you talk to your customer that way?

Ms. Pinky continued even harsher. “You're the same lady who called me earlier, right? I can tell by your voice. Now you got your pitiful little child in here, and you want to make me feel bad. I did not make your baby sick.”

“Well, I need to know what you put in your cookies when we were at the ice skating rink. And this isn't even my same daughter. My other baby's at home even more ill. She's allergic to a
lot, and I specifically asked you if you had peanut oil.”

Ms. Pinky rudely stated, “No, I don't put peanut oil in my cookies. Read my lips, I did not make your baby sick. Whatever's going on—she probably got into something at home when you weren't watching.”

The mom continued, “Because my children are allergic to things, I watch them all the time. It's something about her not feeling well from your food that's just got me so stressed because it's something new. She can't hold anything down. It's like a stomach virus, like it was food poisoning or something, and I'm not—”

“Are you saying that I've been trying to make people sick? Get out of my store! Get out of my store!” Ms. Pinky continued to yell.

“No, this is about my child!” the lady stood there and said.

If the one who was with her wasn't the one who was really sick, I'd hate to see the sicker one because the one who was with her looked so limp and helpless.

“She had a bite of her sister's cookie, but she
didn't eat the whole thing, and now this one is sick. I'm not trying to sue you or close you down or anything, but I just need to know so I can help my child.”

“You don't wanna leave? Oh, I'm gonna call the cops.” Ms. Pinky said as she went to pick up the phone, but the lady didn't move.

“Great, that's what you need to do. You know what? I'm not gonna make your job easier for you. You don't wanna call them because you've done something wrong. I will be back. If something happens to my daughter …”

“What? What?” Ms. Pinky said without an ounce of empathy.

When the lady left, Ms. Pinky started screaming. She was pacing back and forth behind the counter. She took one of her root beer mugs and tossed it clear across the store, shattering it into pieces.

“I'm gonna mess up my pies fooling with this lady! I didn't do anything to her daughter. Clean that up, Yuri! And Rhonda come and help me with this!” Ms. Pinky said, walking to the back.

When I got the broom, I immediately started sweeping up the glass and bent down with the dust pail to pick it up, and in a flash, the memory of a couple cupcakes falling to the ground at the ice skating rink immediately came to mind. Maybe that little girl had eaten one of them. I had told Ms. Pinky she needed to throw them out, but she refused. I was with Paris then, and I was so into wanting to say goodbye to him that I never made sure that the items were discarded. Maybe I needed to call the police. Maybe I needed to run after that mother. Maybe I needed to tell my mom. After all, she was working on a case dealing with food.

When the door opened, I was stunned to see Paris. I dashed over to him and said, “You gotta help me figure this out.”

“Yeah, sure anything. What's going on? Your dad okay? Is it Onyx?”

“Nothing about the gang today. My father is resting. It's your aunt.”

His warmth faded. “I don't follow.”

“It's everything about her and this place. It looks like she's the world's best pastry chef, but
that's not the case. When we were at the skating rink, I saw her with my own eyes cut corners.”

“Are you accusing my aunt of doing something illegal with her food?” he asked as he backed up, clearly insulted.

I explained, “Yes, I am, and I wouldn't say it if I didn't have proof. She uses spoiled ingredients. Items that she doesn't sell she keeps for days, and she only puts new frosting on them and then sticks them in the microwave so people will think they're fresh. And she dropped some items on the floor and sold them to people, and a little girl is sick. Maybe deathly ill.”

“Okay, you're exaggerating, Yuri. I know you felt all bad that you didn't help your dad before something drastic happened, but you don't have to try and go overboard in this instance and ruin my aunt.”

“I would never!”

“You clearly are. I just thought you were bigger and better than what you're showing me now.”

“I know she's your aunt, but I surely thought you cared about right and wrong.” I handed
him the broom, took the dustpan, and dumped the whole thing in the trash. I grabbed my coat and purse and left out, heading down the street to the local bookstore to pass my hour before Slade came back to pick me up. Regardless of what Paris thought, something was going to have to be done. This was a yucky situation.