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

I’d lost my mind. But jam tarts are delicious. And you were so kind to share your cupcakes with us.”
    I took the box from his hand. By now Mom was standing behind me. “Please, Stan, come in. But you’ll have to excuse the mess. We’re just going through the equipment for the shop. Not long until we open, you know.”
    He nodded as he stepped inside. “Yes, I know. August fifteenth, right? Those carrot cake cupcakes were wonderful, Caroline. Very moist and tasty. If your shop had been open, I’m sure Judy would have run downstairs and bought a half dozen more. I predict you are going to have more business than you can handle.” He rubbed his belly. “And I predict my already large waistline will be getting even larger.”
    I looked at Mom, and she was all smiles.
    â€œI got your postcard,” I told him. “Thanks for sending it. Did you like the castle?”
    â€œWe sure did,” he said. “That was actually one of many we saw. We had a great time. I’ll have to show you the pictures one of these days.”
    â€œI’d love that,” I said.
    He looked around at the clutter on the floor. “Well, I don’t want to keep you. Let me know how you like those tarts, Isabel.”
    He opened the door and stepped back into the hall.
    â€œKnock-knock.”
    â€œWho’s there?”
    â€œJam.”
    â€œJam who?”
    â€œJamind? I’m trying to get outta here!”
    â€œBye, Stan,” I said.
    I skipped to the kitchen, carrying the box of tarts.
    â€œMom, come try a jam tart,” I called, the anger I’d felt earlier now set aside on the cooling rack.
    â€œNo, thanks,” she said. “I’m not really hungry.” She paused, then called out, “Hey, I just remembered, how is that cupcake recipe coming along for the contest?”
    I pulled a slightly squished but sweet-smelling jam tart from the box and took a bite. It was the most delicious thing I’d ever tasted.
    â€œI’m, uh, still working on it.”
    â€œDo you need some help?”
    That was pretty much the last thing I needed. “You can’t help, Mom. That’s one of the rules, remember?”
    Besides, I thought, as I took another bite of the scrumptious tart, I don’t think you’ll want to help me onceyou find out I’m submitting a jam tart recipe instead of a cupcake recipe.
    I pulled out my notebook.
    Cupcakes are popular.
    So is Disneyland.
    Popular is good,
    but it doesn’t always mean
    the best.
    â€”IB

Chapter 8
root beer float cupcakes
A GOOD CHOICE EVERY TIME
    A t the library, I found hundreds of recipes for jam tarts. The basic recipe was pretty simple. But that didn’t mean anything. I needed to make something different. Something all my own.
    The tricky part was going to be baking jam tarts without Mom knowing what I was up to. If she found out, I knew her feelings would be hurt.
    One afternoon I finally had the apartment to myself while Mom was running some errands and Dad was working downstairs. I’d just finished baking a batch of tarts that I’d made with some fresh lemon juice squeezed into the pastry crust. They were good, but still not something really different or totally fantastic.
    I was racking my brain as I drank my second can of root beer, trying to figure out how I could make the world’s greatest jam tarts, when I heard voices outside the apartment. As keys jingled, I heard Dad. And then Mom!
    I grabbed the pan of tarts and ran to the family room, and without really thinking, I threw open the door that leads to the fire escape. And just like that, I was standing on the platform, looking down at the street below, with a pan of tarts in my hand.
    I swear, sometimes I am not the sharpest knife in the drawer, as Mom likes to say. Why didn’t I just go to my room and throw the pan under my bed? Now I was stuck out there until they left, unless I wanted to suddenly appear