looked like a waiter.
âYouâre up!â Rose exclaimed. âAnd youâreâwhatâs wrong with you?â
Ty looked around nervously. âNothing. Iâm cleaning up.â
âSince when do you even know how to use a mop?â
âIâm just trying to help the new lady of the house,â he said.
Rose wondered if she should have tried harder to look slick that morning. Unlike most of the girls at school, who wore brand-name jeans and fancy jackets with rhinestones on them and expensive-looking tops in bright colors, Rose never much cared about what she wore. For one thing, anything on her body eventually got dirtyâwith butter or grease or flour or whatever other ingredients were lurking in the Bliss kitchen. And anyway, a new blouse wouldnât make her look like a movie star. It wouldnât make Devin Stetson notice her. It would just make her look like she was trying too hard.
But standing next to Aunt Lily, with all her fabulous clothes, Rose felt like a dirty street urchin and wondered if she shouldnât run out to a store and buy herself something bedazzled.
Rose pushed through the saloon doors that separated the front room from the kitchen and found Chip standing in the corner of the kitchen, beating egg whites in the stand mixer. âThe marines!â said Lily, fanning her fingertips in front of her mouth. She was standing at the counter kneading some dough, and had exchanged her black leather for a red sundress with white polka dots. âYou know, I was a pastry chef on a cruise ship for a year!â
Chip looked up from the mixer and strode toward Rose. âMorning, Rosie!â
Lily touched his shoulder. âChip, darling, Rose and I need some girl time. Go have a cup of coffee and relax!â
Chip sighed deeply and happily, then skipped out.
Rose stood with her mouth agape. What exactly had this Aunt Lily done to smooth the gruff crankiness of Chip? Why was her older brother cleaning ? There was something electric about Aunt Lily, something that made you want to dress your best and wear a smile, but Rose couldnât put her finger on it.
âHelp me with these?â Lily asked, removing the bowl of whipped egg whites from the stand mixer and offering Rose a spoon.
The two of them plopped heaping spoonfuls of egg white onto a lined baking sheet. Lily worked quickly but effortlessly, like a twirling ballerina. Her face was a picture of easy concentration: lips pressed together, brow slightly furrowed.
âSo, Rose. What is it youâd like to do with your life?â asked Lily.
Rose stared at the ceiling. No one had ever asked her that before. Sometimes all she wanted to do was bake, and sometimes she thought sheâd scream if she ever saw a muffin again. Sometimes all she wanted to do was run away from Calamity Falls, and sometimes she thought that if she ever left, her heart would shrivel into a black nut inside her and stop beating altogether.
âIâm not sure,â she answered finally.
Lily set the tray of meringues in the oven. âI want to go everywhere and meet everyone in the world. I just donât see how a person can do the same thing day after day, go to the same places, see the same people. I would just die .â
Rose bristled. Aunt Lily had just summed up her entire existence.
âWell, thereâs something comforting about doing the same things and seeing the same people,â Rose said, peering over the saloon doors into the front room. Ty was just changing the front sign from CLOSED TO OPEN , and there was already a line around the block. âSee those people? I know all of them.â
âTell me about them,â said Lily gently.
âOkay, see the man in the frog sweatshirt, standing at the counter? The first one in line?â Lily nodded. âThatâs Mr. Bastable, the cabinetmaker.â Mr. Bastable had stringy white hair and a black moustache, and had always looked to Rose