Read Online Close to Famous by Joan Bauer - Free Book Online

open. “Going in?” he asked me.
    I nodded and walked inside.
    Three men and a lady sat at the counter; not one of them looked happy. Stuffed fish hung on the wall. They didn’t look happy either. There wasn’t much to this long, thin place. The sausages on the grill looked good, though.
    â€œYou know what they did now, Wayne?” one of the men asked.
    A man with red hair was standing at the grill. “Can my heart take it, Clay?”
    â€œThe prison’s putting Tommy out of business. All those promises they were going to buy from him—just a pack of lies.”
    Wayne’s face got pink and splotchy. He reached down, got a rubber ball, and threw it at a buzzer on the wall that buzzed loud. The ball dropped into a net below. “They can’t do that!”
    â€œThey’re doing it, boy.”
    â€œThey’re doing it,” the men and lady said.
    I stepped forward, tried to have stage presence like Mama taught me. “Excuse me.”
    They all turned to look. Angry Wayne flipped the sausages. “You lost?”
    Sure feels that way, mister. I missed Marietta Morningstar and her little pink bake shop.
    â€œI’m new in town and I’m a baker and I was wondering, sir, if I could help you in the kitchen. You wouldn’t have to pay me or anything. I’d just like to learn. I did this in Memphis.”
    â€œDon’t hire children,” he said.
    â€œI understand. I just want to help.”
    â€œDon’t need no help.”
    I looked around at the dead fish hanging on the wall. This seemed to be a popular decorating choice in Culpepper. My eyes stopped on a scratched, plastic box with boring sweet rolls inside. I’d say you need help, sir.
    â€œI brought some samples. I’ve got chocolate chip muffins and vanilla cupcakes.” I opened the Bake and Take. “Would you like to try one, Mr. Wayne?”
    He sniffed, which might mean yes. The lady’s eyes popped. “I haven’t had a cupcake in I don’t know when,” she said. “Are these free?”
    â€œThey’re free today, but Mr. Wayne, I don’t want to be a bother.” I figured he wasn’t a cupcake man, so I handed him a muffin.
    He held it up and studied it. This is what food people do.
    â€œI use a touch of corn flour,” I told him. “Makes it chewy.”
    He took a bite, and I saw a little sparkle in his eyes. He took his time chewing it—it was like he was moving it from side to side in his mouth. I’ve seen people tasting wine like that on the Food Network. He took a gulp of coffee, took another bite.
    â€œYou made this?”
    I nodded. “It’s got butter and—”
    â€œI know what it’s got. What else you make?”
    â€œI make pumpkin muffins, apple cinnamon ones, banana bread, pineapple upside-down cake, cupcakes—”
    â€œVanilla cupcakes,” the woman whispered.
    â€œI ain’t deaf, Betty.”
    â€œI need a cupcake.” Betty grabbed one and took a bite. “Oh, now I’m in heaven!”
    The two men at the counter each took a muffin and gobbled it down. Betty licked every last bit of frosting off the paper liner like a little kid and put her hand over her heart. Wayne turned back to the grill and fried up some onions.
    A man who looked like a policeman came in and sat at the counter. “What’s good today?”
    â€œCupcakes,” Betty told him.
    â€œReally?” He looked at what I’d brought. “How much?”
    â€œDollar,” Wayne said.
    I coughed and motioned Wayne over. “You should charge more, sir.”
    â€œDollar fifty, Sheriff. Not a penny less for fresh baked.”
    â€œGimme two.”
    I handed him two. They were gone fast. “This is a fine cupcake.” He brushed crumbs off his pants. “Heard Zeke got jumped at the prison. Wasn’t paying attention.”
    â€œGotta pay attention,” the others