Chapter One

Olivia Greer took a lick of her ice cream, closing her eyes to appreciate the vanilla bean flavor. Michael Bellemare laughed.

“You do enjoy a good ice cream cone,” he said, glancing over his shoulder to add, “and it’s a pleasure to watch your enjoyment.”

“Ice cream is a favorite,” she admitted, taking another lick. “Having an ice cream feels more decadent before lunch. Better get to yours or it will melt.” She pointed to his strawberry double scoop on an oversized waffle cone.

He took a large bite, licking his lips. She watched him, transfixed by what she saw. He stood in front of her with his easy smile. I’m so happy we finally got together.

“Here, let me get that,” she offered, dabbing at a drip at the corner of his mouth. When she was done she offered a quick kiss.

“What’s going on over there?” Michael pointed down the street where a bulldozer had been parked on the side of the road.

“Let’s take a look,” suggested Olivia.

We’ve been together every minute, so much so that I’ve lost touch with the comings and goings of Lily Rock.

With her spare hand she took his, pulling him toward the opposite side of the street. After another lick of his ice cream, Michael spoke. “I’ve been kind of tuned out, not keeping track of Cookie’s new bakery and the new nursery next door,” he said sheepishly. “If you remember, we had our first date and then things got a bit more interesting, and frankly, it was all I could think about. You know, when I’d see you again.”

“And now you’re less preoccupied?” she asked, her voice teasing.

“I’m totally locked into you licking that ice cream, if you must know.” Michael stopped on the boardwalk in front of a gate. “So this is Mother Earth…” The gate had been constructed with horizontal redwood boards set with sturdy posts. On each side more fence had been built with a bit of light showing through each board, but not enough of a gap to actually see what lay behind the barrier. “I like this design.” Michael ran his hand over the wood. “Very professional,” he added.

“And not your idea for once,” Olivia said.

“You’re right. I had nothing to do with this place. Check out the signage.” Right over the gate, “Mother Earth” had been etched into a board that looked like a slice of a tree trunk. Michael examined it more closely. “It looks as if the bulldozer finished its work and Mother Earth is ready to open her doors to the public.”

Olivia appreciated her last lick of the ice cream cone. She also appreciated Michael, who shoved his hands into the back pockets of worn jeans, his lean body and broad shoulders inviting her scrutiny. When he turned around he smiled, and her heart took an extra beat.

That smile gets me every time.

She stepped forward to take the napkin from his hand, then deposited her napkin and his in the trash receptacle. When she turned back around, Michael had moved down the street toward another storefront. He gestured with his head for her to follow.

“Look,” he said, staring into the window. “Cookie told us he was up and running and sure enough, he’s holding a baking class.”

Olivia glanced into the window of the storefront. Several people sat in folding chairs, paying close attention to Charles Kravitz, aka Cookie, who stood behind a counter, his mixing bowl in his hand.

Next to the bowl was a canister labeled “Flour”. Next to that, freshly cut herbs lay on a paper towel. A wooden spoon and a whisk looked like props in a baking show.

Cookie stood behind the counter. Keen ice-blue eyes stared at his class, pausing to assess each student individually. He wore jeans and a very white apron over a chambray button-up shirt. A chalkboard rested on an easel at the end of the counter. Scratchy writing told the name of the class: Baking with Thyme—A Cookie for All Seasons.

“I guess that’s the class he’s teaching today,” Olivia said. “The vibe is playful and cute.”

“I don’t think Cookie plays. He’s all business when it comes to his craft,” Michael said. “His audience is a bit older, not that there’s anything wrong with that. I wonder if they even bake in a kitchen or if they just needed a day out?”

“I bet some of those people were already excellent home bakers. That’s why they came to the class. Not so much to learn but to share ideas.” It’s good to include the retired and elderly. Otherwise they get stuck in some back corner waiting to die. Olivia’s thought went immediately to her mother. She wanted to be active until the very end.

“Hey, isn’t that one of your Tone Rangers?” Michael tapped his finger on the window. Olivia had coached the Tone Rangers a cappella group at the music academy a few months ago.

She stared at the back of the class once again. All I see are older people, no one young enough to be a Tone Ranger. “I don’t know who you mean,” she told Michael, still looking through the window.

A movement behind Cookie caught Olivia’s attention. Sure enough, a young teen, dressed in a baggy shirt over a flowered prairie-style skirt, stacked measuring spoons and cups. They watched Cookie as if waiting for directions.

“I think that’s Raleigh,” Olivia said.

“I had forgotten the name, but I think he sang tenor.” Michael paused, then he grinned. “I mean they sang tenor. Raleigh is non-binary, right?”

“They do sing tenor,” she said with certainty. “A bit tricky to remember they and them when my eyes tell me he and him. Anyway, let’s step inside and say hello.”

She reached for the door, pausing when she heard a large vehicle rumble from the street. She turned briefly to see a bus pull up next to the curb in front of the bakery.

Michael whispered in her ear, “I think that’s the transportation for Cookie’s class.” He pointed to the print on the bus. “This must be the bus that transports residents from Lily Rock’s Hello Age retirement community.”

“I think you’re right. So this probably is a baking class arranged for the people who live there. I’ve heard the fancy retirement communities make all kinds of opportunities for their high-paying clients to be entertained.”

The door to the bus swung open, revealing a bald-headed bus driver behind the wheel. Olivia squinted in the sun. “Do you know the driver?”

“I don’t know him. Let’s go introduce ourselves, shall we?” He walked toward the open door of the bus and then stopped. “Well look who it is.”

The first seat on the passenger side was occupied by none other than Mayor Maguire. He sat on his back haunches, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. As soon as he saw Olivia and Michael he greeted them with a bark.

Olivia walked up the two steps to ask the driver, “May we talk to the mayor?”

“Do what you need to do,” the man said, sitting back in his seat. She felt his eyes following her from behind.

Before she could greet the dog, he asked, “Actually I have to take a break, would you watch the bus?”

She glanced around at him to find that his smile revealed a broken front tooth.

“Sure, go ahead.” Olivia turned to the dog sitting in the front passenger seat.

“Hi, M&M.” She reached to pat the labradoodle’s ears. “Haven’t seen you in a day or two. What have you been up to, silly doggo?”

The dog leaned his head into her fingers, lifting his chin for more pets as Michael watched from the boardwalk.

Olivia heard him call to the driver. “How long until the class is over? You’re here to pick up the seniors, right?”

“Yah, I’m here for them. Just a waste of time if you ask me. Nobody I brought has a kitchen, so they can’t bake cookies. Want to help with the wheelchairs when I get back?”

“Sure,” said Michael. “How long will it be?”

The driver looked down at his cell phone. “Only about ten more minutes. We gotta load them quick because they eat at noon and you don’t want to get in the way of a resident’s midday meal.”

“Midday meal, not lunch?” asked Michael.

“That’s what the old folks call it.” The man shrugged. “These seniors appreciate good gossip and lots of food in the middle of their day.”

Olivia gave Mayor Maguire a goodbye pat. She walked to the steps, moving onto the boardwalk. The bus driver and Michael were still talking. She took Michael’s arm, nodding at the bus driver. He paused mid-sentence to look at Olivia, his eyes lingering. “I gotta go, if you know what I mean. Be back in five. Thanks for watching the bus.” He hurried away, disappearing through the partially constructed entrance to Mother Earth.

Olivia and Michael were staring at their phones when the bus driver returned. She didn’t look up right away. Scrolling on her phone, she pretended to be preoccupied with her texts. If I look busy, I won’t have to talk to him. Maybe Michael can handle this.

“I read upside down,” the man commented, watching Olivia closely. “It’s a gift of mine. Looks like you’ve got a few texts there.”

Michael took over. “I see the Lily Rock mayor is riding with you. If you’re new to town, you probably don’t know about him.”

The driver dragged his eyes away from Olivia and her phone. He offered up his hand to shake with Michael. “I know the dog, but I don’t know you.”

“I’m Michael Bellemare and this is my girlfriend, Olivia Greer. We live in Lily Rock. And your name is?” asked Michael.

“Carl Million, but everyone calls me Flex.”

As if to prove ownership of his nickname, Flex held both arms in the air, bending at the elbow. He flexed his exposed biceps in the sleeveless T-shirt. Muscles rippled up and down both arms.

I can’t believe a guy in his fifties would actually flex his muscles for another man. Michael will have an opinion about this later.

She looked over to Mayor Maguire, who continued to stare from the open bus window. She called out, “See you later, M&M, we’re gonna help get people back on the bus.”

On cue the door to the bakery opened, revealing a woman in a wheelchair. Raleigh stood behind her, a smile of surprise on their face. “Olivia!” they called. “Good to see you. Remember me…Raleigh Ulrich?”

Olivia stepped behind the wheelchair to give them a hug. “Of course I remember you, Raleigh. You and your marvelous tenor voice. What are you doing here at the cooking class?”

Raleigh looked around, eyes stopping on the Hello Age bus. “I’ll fill you in as soon as I get Mrs. Green in her seat. Be right back.” They pushed the wheelchair toward the bus. Olivia held the bakery door open as a person with a walker came closer. The elderly woman wore a small waist bag, her gray hair closely cropped.

“Such a nice young girl,” the woman commented, pushing past Olivia.

Michael waited for the woman to roll the walker forward out of the doorway. “I’ll see who else needs help,” he told Olivia over his shoulder.

“I’ll just hold the door,” she added with a grin. I wonder what happened to Flex?

After Michael and Olivia assisted the five remaining seniors onto the bus, he stayed behind to wait for Flex while she walked into the bakery entrance. Cookie Kravitz came around the end of the counter, wiping his hands on the front of his white apron. “Well look who’s here,” he said with a big smile. “I saw you both at the window but didn’t want to abandon my class.”

Olivia heard the bell above the door jingle as it closed behind her. Standing in the middle of the bakery, she examined it, checking out every nook and cranny. The carefully placed tables and chairs, each more distinct than the next, caught her eye first. “You’ve been antiquing,” she commented to Cookie.

He smiled, watching her appreciate his choices.

Olivia kept commenting. “I like the way you took all of these tables and chairs and refinished them in the same oak stain. They look intentional but not the same.” She turned to face him. “Thyme Out is a great name for a bakery.”

“Since I bake with herbs and spices, it felt suitable. I like that play on words. What do you think?”

“It works, especially with the new place next door. Mother Earth and Thyme Out—very Lily Rock.”

“Yeah, about the lady next door,” Cookie started. Then as if thinking better of it, he changed the subject, a vague look coming to his eyes.

Cookie has some opinions about that woman.

Before Olivia could ask, Cookie cleared his throat. “The Mother Earth owner did a lot of work taking out dirt, adding dirt, taking out trees, adding trees. I’m kind of curious how things ended up.”

“I haven’t met her,” said Olivia. “I’d like to know if she’s planning on a nursery or a garden, or a venue that looks like a combination of both. She got her plans past the town council. That’s amazing considering the people here hate any tree being removed.”

“I know, I learned that the hard way.” Cookie nodded. “I got rid of a large overgrown bush in the parking lot behind the kitchen, and you would have thought I’d stolen a puppy from Mayor Maguire and sold her on the black market. Big brouhaha. We finally worked it out. I planted four smaller bushes to replace the ugly old one.”

“I bet Meadow convinced the town council planning committee to let this one go,” Olivia remarked. “She’s often the most rational of the Old Rockers.”

“I believe it was Meadow who helped negotiate the impasse. Funny the old townies call themselves the Old Rockers. They must have been something back in the day.”

A shrill voice interrupted Olivia’s laugh.

“Help me! Come quick.”

A woman stood in the doorway of the bakery, frantically waving her arms in the air. When Olivia and Cookie turned to look at her, her eyes landed on Cookie. “I need a man. There’s a dead…” She burst into tears.

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