Free Bliss by Kathryn Littlewood Page A

oven, and for the time of eight songs became an awkward half-hour or so of singing through all of the Christmas carols they knew.
    After they made it through eight songs, Rose and Ty removed a dozen finely puffed brown-and-green-flecked muffins from the oven and set two off to cool.
    â€œWhat do we do with the rest?” Rose asked.
    â€œI’ll get rid of them,” Ty said, carrying the rest of the muffins out of the kitchen.
    Rose peered over the saloon doors into the front room and saw Mr. Bastable at the front of a long, rowdy line. He shuffled up to the counter, his white hair puffed up like the head of a dandelion. He was wearing a shirt that said I’M A FROG PRINCE. KISS ME.
    Rose rushed through the door, holding the hot muffins, and practically shoved Chip off to the side. “Mr. Bastable! Good morning! How can I help you?”
    Mr. Bastable stared back at her, confused. “Good morning,” he stuttered, making a show of choosing among the pastries. “I’ll have … a carrot-bran muffin.”
    Mr. Bastable turned around and noticed Miss Thistle next in line behind him, wearing a brightly colored jogging outfit.
    â€œMiss Thistle!” Rose shouted. “Step right up!”
    Miss Thistle looked around and then pointed to herself. “Me?”
    â€œYes, you!” Rose said. “Step right up to the counter! We’re serving two at a time this morning!” Miss Thistle shuffled up to the counter and stood beside Mr. Bastable. They looked at each other for a moment and smiled, then both turned away, red faced.
    Rose had seen the same thing at the sixth-grade dances. The pairs that liked each other stood at opposite ends of the room, smiling at each other, then looking at the floor. She was surprised to find that adults did the same thing.
    Miss Thistle tried to speak, but it seemed like her throat had closed. “I’d like a carrot-bran muffin,” she managed to squeeze out.
    â€œFunny you should both ask for carrot bran, because we’re out of those!” Rose fibbed. Her palms were sweating, and her voice felt weak and unsteady. “But we made a batch of zucchini muffins that are dynamite! Just out of the oven!”
    She held up the two muffins, steam still piping out of the tops like chimneys. Mr. Bastable and Miss Thistle both looked at the muffins, wide-eyed, then nodded in tandem.
    â€œGood,” Rose said, plopping the muffins into separate white paper bags and handing them off to Mr. Bastable and Miss Thistle. “It’s on the house!”
    Both walked mechanically out of the shop, then rushed off down the sidewalk in opposite directions, just as Leigh rushed back inside. She zigzagged among the legs of the rest of the customers, who at this point were tapping their feet impatiently and miffed that Mr. Bastable and Miss Thistle had been offered free muffins.
    Aunt Lily and Sage came rushing in after Leigh, who had already escaped up the stairs. Rose didn’t mind the chaos in the bakery. She was having too much fun with her big brother.
    â€œRose! Come here!” called Ty from the kitchen.
    When Rose popped through the saloon doors, she saw Ty holding a faded pink index card covered with grease stains and their mother’s ornate handwriting. “Look at this,” he said. “It’s a conversion chart. I found it in the freezer.”
    It read:
    Fist = half cup
    Flame = 55 degrees Fahrenheit
    Song = 4 minutes
    Acorn = teaspoon
    Walnut = tablespoon
    Rose winced. “This means, when it said one fist of flour, it meant one-half cup, not a full cup!”
    â€œWell, it sure seemed like it was working. If anything, they’ll just love each other more.” Ty cringed and shivered at the thought of it. “Gross.”
    Rose winked. “Well, there’s only one way to find out.”
    Three hours later, Rose and Ty sat crouched behind some shrubs on the lawn of Calamity Falls Elementary School, peering into