“Sure thing. Whatever you say.” He bent to kiss me, then opened the door.
The sun was just coming up, the sky pink and orange to the east, still violet to the west. Birds were starting to sing in the surrounding trees and the air was just a little bit cool, with only a hint of the warmth that would come later in the day.
We said good morning to Bastien, standing with the hose in front of Bramble House, and continued on to Main Street where Clara waved from Petals on Main.
The morning felt special, like a secret shared between Beck and me, and I felt a pang of sadness at the idea of leaving it allbehind for my rushed mornings in the city, a paper cup of coffee in hand while I dodged other pedestrians and cars ignoring the traffic lights.
Good gravy, I was really confused.
I was relieved to get to the bakery where I could put my hands to work, and I set about stocking the glass case with the pastries Beck had made the night before while he got started making fresh croissants, scones, and muffins for the morning customers.
Malcolm would be in by ten, which was perfect since that was when I’d be leaving for the town clerk’s office.
We opened at seven a.m. and the bakery immediately filled with customers: students on their way to school, Blackwell Hollow commuters on their way to work, and a few people I didn’t recognize.
Rosie came in with Mayor Biscuit as the rush was winding down and grinned knowingly when she saw me working the counter.
I tried to be professional even though my cheeks heated at the memory of her walking in on Dane and me in the courtroom, but she wasn’t about to let me off the hook.
“That was some meeting the other night!” She pushed her pink glasses up on her nose. “And after! That was something too. Especially for you I imagine!”
“Um… yeah. What can I get you, Rosie?” I kept a nervous eye on Mayor Biscuit, whose doggie gaze was locked on a bag full of muffins I’d handed the customer I’d just served.
I didn’t breathe a sigh of relief until she was out of the store.
“Just throw in whatever you have for the Ground,” she said. “I’m not picky. Just like to offer something sweet for my customers to pair with their caffeine. And speaking of something sweet, Dane Calder must be?— ”
“Jiminy cricket, Rosie! Stop!” I wanted to cover my ears but I started throwing pastries into a box like my life depended on it, desperate to get her out of the shop.
“Okay, okay!” She held up her hands in surrender. “Just thought you might want a little girl talk.”
“No, thank you.” I closed the box and taped it shut. “Should I put this on your tab?”
“Yes, please.” Now Rosie seemed miffed, put off by my rejection of her offer of girl talk, but that was her problem. Like I’d ever share girl talk with Rosie, the biggest — and most unreliable — gossip in town.
I shoved the box her way and forced the biggest smile I could manage. “Have a great day!”
“Come on, Mayor Biscuit.” She sniffed and took the box. “I know when we’re not wanted.”
I didn’t have it in me to make her feel better. I had a lot on my plate. I’d deal with her later.
“What’s wrong with Rosie?” Malcolm said, breezing into the shop a minute later.
“I have no idea,” I said. “Why?”
He set down his bag and reached inside for a silk scarf printed with unicorns. “I just ran into her on the sidewalk and she told me she’d never felt so ‘unwelcome’ at the Crumb.”
I sighed. “That was me. I’ll make nice with her later.”
He started tying the scarf around his dark curls. “Is it because she caught you and Dane doing the nasty in the courtroom after the last town meeting?”
“Oh my gravy!” I covered my face with my hands. “Is there nothing she won’t tell the whole town?!”
Malcolm seemed to think about it. “Nope, she pretty much blabs about everything and gets it wrong half the time besides.”
The last part might be my only saving grace. Maybe everyone in town would think she was exaggerating.
“Don’t worry, girl,” Malcolm said, walking past me into the kitchen. “We’ve all been victims of Rosie at one time or another.”