I watched the mixer spin around and around. I was making madeleines, a delicious french treat, perfect for the Patisserie. The ingredients were swirling around smoothly and soon I would have the perfect madeleine dough.

After a few minutes of being hypnotized, I realized that someone was at the counter. Well, actually, they made me come to my senses when they cleared their throat, a little loudly, at that.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” I exclaimed. I rushed to the counter, but not before glancing at my beautiful batter. The girl at the counter looked almost my age, and also looked oddly familiar. “Bethany?” I cried, “Why are you wearing your hat so low? Can you even see?” She looked a little weird with her hat over her eyes. It was a wonder she even crossed the street.

The girl’s grin vanished, replaced by a frown. “I am not the Bethany you speak of.” She simply stated. “My name is Abigail.” Her accent was British, but it sounded very fake. I wondered what was going on. I heard someone giggle outside the Patisserie, but I focused on my customer.

“Well.” I said slowly, “Abigail, what would you like today. We have a wonderful  array of treats to choose from.”

The girl looked at the treats on display. “I don’t have a clue, do you have a menu or something of the sort?” There was that faux accent again. Yes, something was definitely up.

“Ur, yes. This is a menu.” I pointed the piece of paper that was right in front of her face, but then again, I doubted she could see anything. The girl, I mean, Abigail, took the menu off the holder and looked over it.

She looked up at me. “I’ll have the Eiffel Tower sugar cookies, please.” I nodded and reached under the counter to grab the bag of cookies, but when I stood up again, ‘Abigail’ had disappeared!

“Um, Abigail?” I scratched my head uncertainly. She couldn’t have just vanished, people don’t do that. The Patisserie was quiet and empty.

“BOO!!!” A voice yelled from the windowsill. At that moment I literally jumped out of my skin, shrieked as loud as I could and I even managed to throw the cookies up in the air, all at the same time. (Impressive, is it not?) :P

I hugged the cake stand, ready to throw it at the source of the voice, but it was just Abigail. She was chuckling, and it sounded a lot like Bethany whenever she plays a practical joke.

Abigail pulled the hat out from over her eyes. There were those familiar sparkling brown eyes. Yep, it was Bethany. “Gotcha!” She shouted, all trace of an accent gone. “I got you good. You really thought I was someone named Abigail, didn’t you? Well, I got you good.” She was giddy with her success.

I stared at her. This was really weird, but a little funny too. Bethany grabbed my arm. “Pretty good, huh? Huh?”

“Sure, Bethany. Great joke.” I said. I had the admit, it was pretty good, popping out from the windowsill like that. “Just let my nerves quiet down, and then maybe I’ll laugh about this later.”

Bethany smiled even wider. “You don’t even know the best part!” I looked at her. “Yes! Yes! We got the whole thing on tape! Now you can watch it as many times as you want!”

“We?” I asked. I was pretty sure Bethany didn’t have a mouse in her pocket.

Jessica walked into Patisserie, grinning almost as big as Bethany was. “We! Surprise! I video-taped it!”

“That’s…. Great.” I said, not knowing what to think.

“Come on, let’s go watch it on my laptop!” Jessica insisted, pushing through the door and back to our house. “You have to see the look on your face when Bethany yelled. I almost fainted myself!”

We ended up watching it about, say 20 times, before it was time for lunch.

Grace, what about your madeleine batter?

Oops. He he. I wonder if my batter is ready. I’d better go check. Bye, and be on the lookout for crazy sisters!

– Grace