to test out a few recipes. Nothing major. I just don’t want to mess up at the party tomorrow. Here –’ She pushed one of the aprons into Ivy’s hands. ‘This one’s for you.’
‘Wow . . .’ Ivy looked down at the apron she’d been given, made of black denim with studs running along the hem. ‘It’s perfect!’ Then she looked up and frowned at the apron Olivia was fastening around herself, which had a pink gingham ruffle around the hem and a sweetheart-shaped pocket. ‘Actually, so is yours.’
‘It really is, isn’t it?’ Olivia tied the straps with a bow. Neat and tidy and perfect. If only my life could be the same ! She brushed her hands together. ‘Now –’
‘Just a minute,’ Ivy said. ‘First, tell me how come we have two perfectly suited aprons just lying about in my kitchen, when we’ve never done any baking here before? How do I know you’re really my sister, and not some body-snatched doppelganger?’
Olivia felt her skin heat up in a blush as she gave a nervous giggle. She knelt down quickly to hide her face as she rummaged through the pots and pans. ‘Lillian’s mom came to stay for a weekend and brought her sewing machine. That’s where the aprons came from. No big deal. I mean, she is going to be our step-grandmother.’
‘Aha . . .’ Olivia could tell Ivy hadn’t missed the blush. ‘Talking of Lillian, it’s time for you to come clean about those cakes you made.’
Oops ! ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Olivia said. But she already had a guilty grin tugging at her lips.
‘Come on,’ Ivy said. ‘I don’t care what Holly claimed – you did not make those cupcakes on your own. I’ve seen you in the kitchen – you look more lost than me in an organic food store!’
Olivia grinned. ‘OK, I confess,’ she said, and stood up, holding a stack of measuring cups in her hands. ‘Lillian may have spent some time in the kitchen with me and Holly. But that’s why Holly was being so nice about my baking – she knows how bad I was to start with.’ Seeing Ivy’s face twitch, she rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, come on, Ivy! Give the girl a break. She was just trying to be kind.’
‘Whatever.’ Ivy gave an unconvincing smile. ‘You know, I’m still feeling pretty tired and frazzled after everything that happened at the Academy. I guess it must be making me grumpier than usual.’
Olivia opened her mouth to joke: Do you really think that’s possible ? But on seeing Ivy’s face, she stopped herself.
If anyone had the right to be cranky at the moment, it was Ivy.
By the time their bio-dad came home an hour later, both girls were covered in flour and licking out the bowls as they waited for their cakes to finish baking. When he stepped into the kitchen, Olivia winced, expecting him to sigh and complain about the mess. Charles Vega was nothing if not immaculate at all times.
‘Don’t worry . . .’ she began.
But he was too busy muttering to himself to hear her. ‘Butter icing or cream-cheese icing? Butter icing or cream-cheese icing ?’
‘Um . . .’ Olivia turned to Ivy, her eyebrows raised. Ivy had grown up with Charles. Maybe she understood the question.
Ivy only shrugged. ‘Dad? We were just making –’
‘Fantastic!’ Charles’s eyes lit up as he spotted the cupcakes in the oven. ‘You girls are thinking about the wedding catering already!’
This time it was Ivy’s turn to say, ‘Um . . .?’
‘Why, you’re almost as organised as I am.’ He beamed proudly at them both, not even seeming aware of the mess.
‘Dad, we need to talk to you,’ Ivy said, and from the look in her eye Olivia knew she was going to tell him about the blogger. ‘We have a big problem.’
‘Not any more.’ Charles shook his head wonderingly as he gazed at the baking cupcakes. ‘This is perfect. We can do tiers of fairy cakes instead of one huge cake. You girls are so forward-thinking!’ He dug a small notebook and tiny gold pen out of his jacket pocket and began scribbling. ‘Lillian will love it.’
‘Actually, Dad,’ Olivia said, ‘it’s really important that we –’
‘But what about the flower arrangements!’ said Charles. ‘How will they be affected by the fairy cakes?’
Shaking his head and mumbling to himself, he wandered out of the kitchen, leaving Olivia and Ivy to exchange a hopeless glance.
‘It’s nice that he’s so happy,’ Olivia said dubiously.
‘I guess,’ Ivy said. ‘I mean, I didn’t expect my dad to morph into Groomzilla!’
Both girls laughed, but Olivia caught a glimpse of sadness on Ivy’s face. ‘What’s wrong?’
Ivy grimaced. ‘I never thought I’d say this, but . . . I kind of miss “Old Dad”.’
Olivia thought of the slightly strict, wise man she’d met a year ago. ‘He was certainly different.’
‘He’s happier now,’ Ivy said. ‘And I’m happy for him, but . . . “Old Dad” would have listened to us about the blogger. He might even have given us some advice.’
Olivia sighed, understanding exactly what Ivy meant. They would have to deal with this problem on their own.
She jumped as the front door opened again.
‘There you both are!’ Lillian breezed in, stylish as always in a simple but elegant black dress. ‘I was just parking the car up in the garage, but I hoped I wouldn’t be too late to see both of you. Something smells good!’
‘We’re making cupcakes,’ Olivia said. ‘Just the way you showed me.’
‘And let’s hope you like them,’ Ivy added, ‘because Dad’s thinking cupcakes for the wedding.’
‘Oh, well . . .’ Lillian waved one graceful hand in the air and smiled as she pulled a book out of her sleek black bag. ‘Whatever everyone else wants. I don’t mind.’
As Lillian opened her book, the twins shared a meaningful glance. Olivia could see her own reaction mirrored in Ivy’s face. Were brides really meant to be this relaxed? She decided to test the waters with another question.
‘Have you organised your wedding dress yet?’
‘Mmm? What was that?’ Lillian looked up from her book, smiling ruefully. ‘Sorry, I know it’s terribly rude to read while we talk, but I just can’t help myself. This novel is amazing! Have you girls read it yet?’
As she held it out to show them, Olivia heard Ivy groan. Bare Throats at Sunset. Why was everyone suddenly reading that book? Luckily, Lillian was too busy gushing to have noticed Ivy’s reaction.
‘I’ve been telling all my friends back in California about it. You have to try it! But, um . . . sorry, what was it you asked?’
‘The wedding dress,’ Olivia prompted.
‘Oh,
