Bakers on Board

Bakers on Board Read Free Page B

Book: Bakers on Board Read Free
Author: Sheryl Berk
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capacity,” Kylie said. “Let’s box ’em up and get them loaded.”
    There was only enough room for two passengers in each car: Kylie and her dad, and Marisol and Jenna.
    â€œI win Father of the Year for this,” Mr. Carson said, getting his keys. “And you’re lucky it’s not a school night. It’ll take us at least an hour to get there—if there’s no traffic, but there will be on a Friday night.”
    â€œI’ll make it up to you,” Kylie promised. “You can sleep late tomorrow morning, and I’ll make you pancakes.”
    â€œWith some of those leftover blueberries?” he asked, turning on the ignition. “Now you’re talkin’!”
    The trip took them longer than expected. When they finally arrived at the library, it was eight thirty. Kylie knocked on the door, but it was locked and no one answered. She peered through the window and saw that everything was dark and quiet inside.
    â€œI thought Ms. Cushman said she would wait for us,” Jenna said, carrying a stack of boxes out of the car.
    â€œShe also said she never misses an episode of History Chronicles ,” Kylie recalled. “Which started a half hour ago.”
    â€œNow what?” Marisol grumped. “It’s freezing out here, and we’ve got three hundred cupcakes and no one to accept them.”
    â€œI suggest we drive down the road and find a neighbor willing to hold them for Ms. Cushman till tomorrow morning,” Mr. Carson suggested. “Or it won’t be just the cupcakes that freeze.”
    They all piled back in and drove to a small house just down the street from the library. Kylie rang the doorbell and crossed her fingers.
    A gray-haired man opened the door a crack and peeked outside. “May I help you?” he asked.
    â€œI hope so!” Kylie exclaimed. “We have to deliver these cupcakes to the library but it took longer than we thought to mix the batter and Jenna had to buy berries and then we hit traffic and Ms. Cushman left to go watch her TV show.”
    The man scratched his bearded chin. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” he said. “But if you’re selling cupcakes, I’ll take one.”
    â€œNo.” Kylie tried to explain better. “They’re for the library’s annual fund-raiser tomorrow night. We’re not selling any, but if you can hold on to them for Ms. Cushman to pick up tomorrow, we’ll gladly give you one.”
    The man opened the door the rest of the way. “I know Ms. Cushman very well, and I’ll let her know I have them,” he said. “You can bring them into the kitchen and leave them there for her.”
    He motioned to a room down the hall. “It’s right through there, past the photos on the wall.”
    As they all piled past him carrying box after box, his eyes grew wide. “I thought it was a dozen or so cupcakes…not enough for General Washington’s army!”
    â€œSorry,” Kylie apologized. “Ms. Cushman asked us to double the amount at the last minute, so I’m afraid there’s a whole carload more.”
    â€œYou might want to stack those in the living room,” he suggested. “It’s a pretty small kitchen.”
    As Marisol walked by, she couldn’t help noticing all the amazing framed pictures. “Wow, did you take these?” she asked.
    â€œI did,” the man said. “I used to be a professional photographer. In fact, the library has a few of my shots on display.”
    She put the boxes down and walked back to get a better look. “They’re amazing. Like something out of National Geographic magazine.”
    â€œYou have a good eye. I used to shoot for National Geographic .” He pointed to the signature in the corner of the print. “That’s me. Harold Hammond.”
    Marisol continued to study the pictures. There were several of a desert at

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