It's Raining Cupcakes by Lisa Schroeder Read Free Book Online

Logan? I don’t know why I’m asking you questions. By the time you get this letter, I’ll be on my way to the Grand Canyon, so you can’t write me back. Can’t wait to catch up when I get home.
    Time for campfire. At least there won’t be any singing tonight. Rachel’s guitar somehow tragically lost all its strings. I wonder how that happened?
    Campily yours,
    Sophie
    Thanks to Sophie, my stinky, stinkier, and stinkiest day ended on a happy note. I folded up the letter, tucked the envelope into a desk drawer, and crawled into bed underneath a blanket of turtles, figuring I’d better quit while I was ahead.

Chapter 7
coconut mango cupcakes
A TASTE OF THE TROPICS WITHOUT GETTING ON A PLANE
    T he next day, Mom and I were going through all the boxes that had been delivered, trying to figure out if we still needed to buy anything. Mom didn’t say a word. She just emptied the boxes, took notes on her clipboard, and mumbled to herself every once in a while.
    I wanted to tell her it’d be okay. I wanted her to know I thought it was great that she was trying to make a dream come true. I wanted to say something to make her feel better about everything. But I didn’t know what to say. How many times had I wished I’d been born with the knowing-just-the-right-words-at-the-right-time gene, like Sophie had? More times than there are red-eyed tree frogs in the forests of Costa Rica, that’s how many.
    I decided maybe the best thing to do was to talk about something completely different. “Mom, where did you and Dad go on your honeymoon?”
    She looked up from her clipboard with her left eyebrow raised. “What? Why?”
    I shrugged. “You’ve never told me. And I’m curious.”
    â€œWell, we went to the Oregon coast. Stayed in a cottage for a week. It was very nice.”
    I peeled the packing tape off the top of the box in front of me. “You didn’t go to Hawaii? Or Mexico? Or the Caribbean? Don’t most people go to places like that?”
    â€œSometimes. And your father wanted to, I think.I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t envision myself getting on a plane.”
    My hands stopped moving, and my eyes looked up at her. “What do you mean?”
    She stood up, a pair of wooden spoons in her hand. “I’m afraid, Isabel. I’m afraid to fly.”
    â€œYou never told me that. How come you never told me?”
    She shrugged. “I guess it never came up.”
    I could feel my heart racing. It didn’t come up? All those times I’d rambled on about how I’d love to be like Aunt Christy, flying here and there and everywhere? All those times when I’d asked, “How come we never go anywhere?” Her response had always been brief and generic. “It’s just not in the budget,” or “Maybe someday we’ll be able to.”
    Once again, it was all about her. The anger inside of me grew, like a cupcake expanding in the oven. I gritted my teeth and tried to sound as sweet as a chocolate chip cupcake. “Is that why we’ve never gone anywhere outside of Oregon?”
    She made a checkmark on her clipboard. “Oh I don’t know, Isabel. There are a lot of reasons.Anyway, I know you want to travel. And you can blame me if you want to. But just think, you have the whole world to look forward to when you’re older.”
    I started to respond to that with something I probably would have been sorry about later, but I didn’t get the chance. There was a knock at the door.
    I ran to open it before Mom had even taken a step. As the door flew open, Stan’s big smile greeted me.
    â€œYou’re home!”
    â€œWe just got in,” he said. “And I wanted to bring you these.” He held up a white box. “I thought you might enjoy one of my favorite treats from England. I bought these on the way to the airport and carried them with me the whole way. Judy thought