#5 Icing on the Cake
Stephanie Perry Moore
Text copyright © 2014 by Stephanie Perry Moore
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Moore, Stephanie Perry.
Icing on the cake / Stephanie Perry Moore.
pages cm. — (The Sharp sisters; #5)
Summary: Feeling like the untalented one in a family of five sisters, soon-to-be-sixteen-year-old Yuri, the adopted daughter of newly elected mayor Stanley Sharp, pursues her love of baking and grows in self-esteem when she takes a courageous stand.
ISBN 978–1–4677–3728–9 (lib. bdg. : alk. paper)
ISBN 978–1–4677–4656–4 (eBook)
[1. Sisters—Fiction. 2. Self-esteem—Fiction. 3. Baking—Fiction. 4. Adoption—Fiction. 5. African Americans—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.M788125Ic 2014
[Fic]—dc23
2014003172
Manufactured in the United States of America
1 – SB – 7/15/14
eISBN: 978-1-46774-656-4 (pdf)
eISBN: 978-1-46777-446-8 (ePub)
eISBN: 978-1-46777-447-5 (mobi)
Oprah Winfrey
You are the epitome of what an
entrepreneur should be.
Thank you for going after what you
want with class and vigor.
You inspire me to reach for greatness
and OWN my choices.
The icing you put of the cake of your
life motivates many to strive to be
stellar.
May all who reads this series be the
cream of the crop too.
You are amazing. I am so grateful for
your example … you shine!
CHAPTER ONE
YOUNG
What do you say when all is going right in your world, but you still feel empty? What do you do when you should be so happy, but you feel a little melancholy? How do you act when you’re so thankful things have worked out for others, but inwardly you’re struggling because you feel worthless? These were my current big questions.
My situation looked like a cupcake that had just come out of the oven, topped with some icing. But as soon as you go to bite into it, because it’s a little too hot, the icing slides off. Yeah, the cupcake is still yummy and you can taste the icing, but something about it just isn’t right anymore. You can never put that icing back on top of the cupcake. Actually, that’s probably why I felt so gloomy. I didn’t feel any way to fix my sadness.
“Come on!” Sloan said to me. “Dad wants us to do the electric slide with him.”
We were at an anniversary party for my parents that my dad had given my mom as a surprise. They were two of the sweetest people I knew, and I loved them so much. I knew they weren’t my biological parents, but I was so young when they adopted me, you couldn’t tell me any different.
There were five of us Sharp girls. I had a biological sister, Ansli, who was older by two years. There were also three girls that the Sharps birthed, Shelby, Slade, and Sloan. Sloan and I were the same age. Our house was a zoo with five girls between the ages of soon-to-be-sixteen and eighteen. Sloan and I will turn the big one-six at the end of December. Thankfully, we all get along good.
I encouraged Sloan to go on. She had really been going through it with my father, thinking he was cheating on my mom. Actually, Sloan had her own issues too. A girl in school made Sloan’s life miserable because she felt Sloan was a threat with this boy they both admired. The insane girl nearly damaged Sloan’s reputation with a sexting scandal. However, my sister not only came through it stronger, but now my dad was going to help her pursue her writing dreams. I overheard him tell her he wanted to start a magazine with her. While I should have been jumping up and down for my sister, I plopped down in the seat with a massive headache.
“Why aren’t you out there dancing?” I heard my mother’s calming, yet concerned, voice ask.
I looked up at my mom’s pretty face. I just shrugged my shoulders. I tried to smile, but I could never fake it. So I looked away.
As my eyes started to water, she placed her arm around my shoulders, turned my face towards hers, wiped a tear, and said, “Sweetheart, you can talk to me.”
“But it’s your anniversary party. I don’t want to ruin it by bringing you down. You look so happy.”
“Well hey, I’m a mother, and if any of my girls aren’t happy, how can I be? Share,” she said, stroking my hair.
“It’s frizzy isn’t it?” I said, having a pity party.
“No, your hair is beautiful.”
I hated having Indian-type hair. It got so frizzy at times. Most of the time when people stroked my hair it was because I had fly away strands.
“Yuri, talk to me,” my mom said as she gripped both my hands and squeezed them tight.
Opening up, I said, “I know I’m just the baby in the family and nobody really expects me to do much, but I want to do something. Shelby has her fashion. Ansli is over there snapping pictures. Slade is about to take the mic, and now Sloan is getting a magazine. Dad is about to be the mayor, and you’ve been working on this case day and night. I don’t want to be angry at them because I am really happy, Mom, but everybody is busy. I have no skills, no talents, and no dreams.”
“I actually need some help on my case.”
“You do?” I said, as my eyes widened. “What skills do I have that could help you?”
“Yuri, you cook better than me,” she encouraged.
“That’s because you don’t really cook, Mom. But I’m not complaining. Our cooks Ms. Helen and Ms. Susan are wonderful.”
My mom winked and said, “And you cook better than them.”
I looked at my mom like, don’t stretch it.
She smiled and clarified, “Okay you bake better than them.”
To that I agreed. I loved making desserts from scratch. Always has been my forte. Guess I never saw it much more than as a hobby. How could my love for baking help my mom?
“And you love to go in the grocery store with me. I need helping looking at the expiration dates on a lot of the dairy products. It looks like some stores are knowingly trying to fade the expiration dates off of some products so they can buy them for a very low price and still sell them as if the merchandise is fresh.”
“Are you serious?” I said to my mom, unable to comprehend why someone would be so cruel.
My mom frowned. “You’re so innocent and precious baby. I don’t want you worrying about any of this, nor do I want you so focused on your future. I can’t believe you’re about to have a birthday.”
“See, I’m not good at anything,” I uttered, displaying a pitiful look on my face.
“We just said you were the best baker around.”
“But how is that a career, Mom?”
“We can figure it out. Now come on, let’s hit the dance floor.” She grabbed my hand, and we ended the night h
aving a ball.
The next day at school felt a little different too. I always walked in with Sloan. We were inseparable for years, but now she had this guy in her life. I didn’t want to stand in the way of that, so I went on about my business. I walked around the corner to go to my Family and Consumer Sciences class. Before I could get there, however, I walked up on a mess.
“Your elephant butt better go down another hall,” this big guy with a wrestling-chiseled body showing through his shirt said to Logan, a classmate of mine.
Admittedly, Logan was a little overweight. She had trouble fitting through the door, and she sat in two chairs, but she was still a person with feelings. Pushing on her, shoving on her, calling her names, and making her cry was downright cruel.
I stepped in between the tough guy and two girls and said, “What are y’all doing? Let her go!”
“You need to stay out of this,” the girl with dreads and a scar across her face said to me.
“Yeah, just let me be,” Logan cried out. “You don’t know this crew.”
“I know they shouldn’t be treating you like this. We’re going on to class, now.” I tugged on Logan’s arm, and we walked away.
“You don’t know who we are!” This other girl got in my face.
“And you don’t know who I am,” I yelled back without flinching.
“Why couldn’t you just mind your own business, pretty girl?” the tough guy said, playing with my hair before I quickly jerked away.
“You made us an enemy, and now you’re going to pay,” the scar-faced girl said, as she pounded her fist into her palm really hard like I was supposed to be terrified.
“Come on. Let’s get to class,” I said to Logan when they were gone.
“You don’t know what you just did. They’re in the gang Oynx. They’ll kill you.” Logan motioned for me to check them out. “Look, their bandanas are their mark.”
I looked down the hall and saw that they all had on black bandanas on different parts of their bodies. This was serious. Though I did what I thought was right, I exhaled, thinking I might have started my own personal war.
Twenty minutes later in class, I was supposed to be cutting carrots. I was almost about to chop my hand off. I was shaking so bad because I was nervous. When my teacher, Ms. Jenson, started to help another student, I picked up my phone and sent a group text to my sisters.
I texted, “Does anybody know who the people wearing the black bandanas are?”
I got several quick replies. Shelby texted me, “That’s the gang Onyx.”
Ansli texted, “Stay away!”
Slade hit me back and wrote, “Yeah, don’t even go near them.”
Inquisitive Sloan texted, “Why’d you ask?”
At that point I started hyperventilating, truly not feeling good at all. How could I stay away from a gang I had already crossed? And what was a gang doing at our upscale Marks High School?
“Answer Sloan’s question, why don’t you already?” Shelby texted back.
“Girrrl, have you said something out of the way to them!?!” Slade asked with a bunch of emphasis. “Yup, that’s it because you’re not texting back. What class are you in?”
I still couldn’t respond. Sloan texted back, “She’s in Jenson’s room … 212.”
That girl had my schedule stored. I did need them because I was in a mess. I must have looked like the color had gone from my face because Ms. Jenson came over.
She put her hand on my shoulder and said, “Yuri, this isn’t like you not to finish preparing a meal. You okay, dear?”
I just shook my head. No way was I anywhere close to being alright. There was a knock on the door, and when all the boys started whistling, I knew Slade was there. Why she dressed so provocatively, I didn’t understand. She was so beautiful. But she showed just enough cleavage that it was acceptable for school. Yet at the same time, she showed just enough that it was appealing to the guys.
“Excuse me, Ms. Jenson, can I see my sister for a second?”
Ms. Jenson walked me over to the door and spoke to Slade. “I don’t think she’s feeling well. Will you let me know if she needs to go to the office?”
“Yes ma’am,” Slade said as Ms. Jenson went back into class and shut the door. “Okay, uh, what’s going on with you? Sloan said to tell me everything too. I know y’all like to keep stuff from me, so I won’t scold you, but this is creepy, you talking about Onyx. Somebody gets a hold of your phone and sees their name in it, you could be in trouble just for that.”
“I’m already in trouble with them. I pushed them off of this girl, Slade,” I said, wiggling my sister’s arm for help.
“You did what? You got in the middle of a fight? Why? You’re the shyest, little wimpiest thing around. Why’d you do that?”
Stomping, I said, “Because they were picking on this girl, Logan, and she’s so sweet. Okay she does have an extra couple pounds that she’s trying to lose, but I had to help her. She was getting picked on, and it reminded me of kindergarten.”
“When you were getting picked on because your chicken pox scars took forever to go away?” Slade squinted and asked me.
“Yes, the scars all over my face just felt like people thought they could laugh at me or something. I hated school and myself after that. I knew how she felt. I didn’t realize they were in a crazy gang. They told me I’m in trouble. Slade, what does that mean?”
My sister just hugged me tight. When I pulled away, she reached out and hugged me again. She squeezed me extra hard.
“So does that mean that I’m really in trouble? Oh my gosh!” I said, pacing. I was not feeling any better physically.
“Okay, you’ve got to calm down.”
“I’m gonna die,” I shouted.
I was a little too loud, and Ms. Jenson came rushing to the door. “Yuri, what is going on?”
“I need to take her to the office, Ms. Jenson. Can we have a pass please?” Slade asked.
Ms. Jenson scribbled on a piece of paper and handed it to Slade.
We headed to see the coolest principal in the world. Dr. Garner happened to be friends with our dad. Usually, I could talk to him, but at that moment, I couldn’t speak for myself. I was looking over my shoulder even though we were in the office. I was so paranoid, but Slade held me up and explained everything that was going on.
“Well, until they do something wrong, I can’t just kick them out of school.”
“But they threatened my sister, sir. You need them to kill her before you take action?” Slade asked, before I gave her a horrified look. “I’m just saying. I’m not saying they’re really going to kill you, but I’m just telling him he needs to do something before that happens.”
I hated being the youngest sister because sometimes I just didn’t think straight. I let everybody else think for me. The one time that I tried to put on my big girl panties and help somebody else out, I might have signed my own death warrant.
“How bad is Onyx?” I asked Dr. Garner.
He shook his head. “I want to get them out of my school, that’s for sure. I suggest you use a buddy system. Don’t go anywhere by yourself. Definitely keep a low profile, and I’ll be watching the situation. I hear your sister, and she raises a good point. I can’t make you a sitting duck, but because there is no recording of them threatening you, hearsay can’t really do anything. But you’re going to be okay.”
Slade looked over at the Keurig machine in Dr. Garner’s office. “Could I get her some hot tea, cocoa, or something?”
And when she said that, I brightened up. Dr. Garner was called out of his office and told us to take a second for me to collect myself.
As Slade fixed me something to drink, I said, “You think everything’s going to be okay right?”
“Yeah, just like my showcase. I’ve got to have one for my music soon. I’m trying to put the whole thing together. When you’re the record company, it’s not just like an artist comes and preforms and goes home. No, I’m in charge of the guest list, g
etting press there, the reception, having some hors d’oeuvres, and I can’t even find a caterer,” she uttered as she handed me a cup.
All of a sudden, I wasn’t caring about Onyx at that point. I was caring about me and my opportunities. Slade had given me cocoa and hope.
“Let me help,” I blurted out.
“Help me how?”
“Let me cater it. Make it a dessert social. Mom was just telling me I make the world’s best cupcakes. They’re pretty and yummy. It’ll save you a ton of money,” I said to her.
“Hmm, I might need to get you stressed out more often,” Slade teased. “What you gonna charge me to make it?”
“I’ll work within your budget,” I said, before I knew I needed to up the ante. “I’ll go under budget.”
“You’re hired.”
I put down my cup and embraced her. “Thank you, Slade. Obviously, I need something positive to channel all of this crazy energy.”
“We’re not a match for a gang,” Slade said as she put her hands on my shoulders, “but we are your sisters, and for someone to mess with the baby of the family, they’re going to have to come through the rest of us. And to add insult to their injury, we’re the last girls they might want to be thinking about messing with. Particularly, if they want to stay in operation. You know what I’m saying? Don’t worry. But don’t mess with them again. Alright?”
I nodded, as I picked up the cup and drunk up. She didn’t have to worry. I was the baby of the group, but I learned quick, fast, and in a hurry. No more messing with Onyx, and I just prayed that they would not mess with me. But no need to focus on that. Now I had my first catering gig. I was excited. I was growing up. I was proud of me.
The day that I had been waiting for—the chance to allow many to taste my cupcakes—was here. I had been baking for two days straight, getting ready to feed the hundreds of guests coming to Slade’s new artist’s release party. Shelby and Ansli couldn’t help me. Shelby was helping the artist’s dress. She was the stylist for the day. Ansli was setting up to photograph the important players who were coming to the event, as well as get pictures backstage.
Thankfully, my mom and Sloan were there for me. I think I was getting on their nerves though. I was obsessing about everything.
