Confectionately Yours #4: Something New by Lisa Papademetriou Page B

Frosting
    INGREDIENTS:
    1/2 cup butter, softened
    1/2 cup cream cheese, room temperature
    4 cups confectioners’ sugar
    1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
    1/2 teaspoon lemon extract
    2 teaspoons finely grated pomelo zest
    INSTRUCTIONS:
In a large bowl, with an electric mixer, cream together the butter and cream cheese until they are fully combined and a lighter color, about 2–3 minutes.
Slowly beat in the confectioners’ sugar in 1/2-cup batches, adding the vanilla extract, lemon extract, and pomelo zest toward the end.
Continue mixing the frosting on high speed for about 3–7 minutes, until the frosting is light and fluffy.

“U m … what flavor is this again?” Artie asks as she dumps a half teaspoon of baking powder onto the mix of flour and sugar in the large white bowl.
    “Grapefruit,” I tell her.
    She purses her lips in a way that says “cool” and “interesting” at the same time, only without words. I’m still getting used to having her here, in Gran’s tiny kitchen, on a Saturday night. Game Night used to happen in my basement. That was back when I lived in a house, and Marco was my next-door neighbor, and Artie lived in the house behind ours. Back when our parents were friends.
    Now our parents don’t really talk anymore. And my friendships with Artie and Marco are all messed up. That’sthe thing that nobody tells you about some divorces — for a while, it can feel like nuclear fallout. Nothing survives.
    And then, after a while, things start to grow back.
    I guess that sounds depressing, but I don’t really mean it that way. Things do grow back. And sometimes you even get a new species in the mix.
    “Hey, hey, hey!” Meghan says as she walks into the kitchen. She stops up short when she sees Artie. “Oh! I just — I was just walking past the Tea Room, and your Gran said you were upstairs —”
    “Hey, Meg. Artie and I are just making some cupcakes.” I look at Artie, unsure how she’ll react. She can be kind of possessive with her friends — she’s one of those people who likes to have one-on-one time. But she’s just mixing the batter and smiling, like it’s no big deal.
    “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Meghan says.
    “You’re not interrupting,” Artie tells her. “We were just about to put these in the oven and start a movie. Want to join?”
    “Oh. Sure!” Meghan plops into a chair at the tiny table and watches as I use an ice cream scoop to fill the cupcake liners. “So — are these going to be for the barbecue?” she asks.
    “Just a test run.” My voice is a murmur … like I’m on tiptoe. Inwardly, I’m cringing. I don’t want to talk about the barbecue in front of Artie.
    “What time are you guys showing up for that?” Artie asks.
    “I’ll have to get there early to set up,” Meghan says.
    “I’ll be there a little early, too,” I put in.
    “Okay. I hate being the first person to show up at a party,” Artie says.
    Meghan looks at me evenly, as if she’s waiting for me to say something. I do not say, “Marco will be there, too.” I don’t want to get into it.
    Meghan nods slowly, then looks over at Artie. Then back at me. “I think a few people will be there early, Artie. Don’t worry.” She drops her elbows onto the table and rests her chin on her palms. “So — what movie are we watching?”
    “Well, I brought a few for us to choose from,” Artie says. “Do you like Miyazaki?”
    “Love him!” Meghan says. “Which ones have you got?”
    “Back in a second, Hayley.” Artie motions for Meghan to follow her, and they wander off toward the living room as I pull open the oven. Heat ruffles my hair as I put the tray of cupcakes on the top rack. Then I close the door with a clangand set the timer. I do all of these things without even realizing. They’re automatic to me now.
    Instead, all the time, I’m thinking about Artie, and how I missed my chance to tell her about Marco. I’ve missed it twice now.
    I don’t know how she’ll react