And yet, where had love gotten the Blisses? These days the streets of Calamity Falls felt cold and grey, even in the springtime. Mrs Havegood’s fibs had become far less inventive, the League of Lady Librarians had retired their tour bus, and Mr Bastable and Mrs Thistle-Bastable had lost their burning passion for each other. There was no laughter, no magic. The soul of Calamity Falls had shrivelled like a dead leaf, and it was all her fault.
Even Devin Stetson had lost his lustre. Since Lily had stolen the book, Rose had worked up the courage to speak to Devin Stetson on five separate occasions, about two things: twice in the hallway about the difficulty of algebra, twice at the counter of Stetson’s Doughnuts and Automotive Repair about the difficulty of algebra again, and once at the counter of the Bliss Bakery.
“How are you?” she’d said, her right eye twitching nervously, as it always did in his presence.
“Oh, fine, I guess.” Devin sighed. His floppy bangs, formerly the colour of spun gold, were now just pale, dull blond. “The Calamity Falls Community Chorus disbanded. No one felt like singing any more.”
“I’m sorry,” Rose had replied. She had wanted to reach out and touch his sullen cheek, but she was too afraid, and too guilty.
Rose sighed at the memory, and glared out at Lily. As much as Rose hated her aunt, the person she was most angry with was herself. If she had just been a little wiser, if she hadn’t trusted Aunt Lily and fallen for her flattery, everyone she loved in her town would be happy and healthy. But as it stood, every time Rose traipsed down the grey streets of Calamity Falls, she was reminded of the grim mess she’d caused.
“This beard itches,” Ty whined, tugging at the long, grey beard their father, Albert, had glued to his face hours before. “And the beard glue smells like a chemical-processing plant. I might pass out.” Ty shifted in his white linen robe. “Why did I have to wear the skirt?”
“It’ll be over soon,” Rose said, patting him on the shoulder. “I’m pretty sure the Question-and-Answer portion is next.”
Rose spoke as calmly as she could, but her hands were shaking. Appearing on television for the first time was nerve-racking enough, but Rose was about to appear on television for the first time and do something crazy.
“OK, sit, sit!” Lily called. “Let’s move on to Question-and-Answer. And while we do, I’m going to dig into one of these Pump-Me-Up Pumpkin Muffins – if you all don’t mind. All this talk of cinnamon has me very hungry.”
She winked coyly as she unwrapped the accordion of aluminium foil from the bottom half of one of the hot muffins and sank her gleaming teeth in. She wiped the corner of her mouth. There was never a crumb on Lily’s lip, never a hair out of place. She was perfection.
Rose knew this was her chance to strike. She raised her hand high and waved it back and forth until Lily noticed her in the back row. “You, sweet thing in the back with the blonde curls!”
Ty wasn’t the only one wearing a disguise. Rose had pulled back her long, black hair and pinned it under a wig of blonde ringlets that Purdy had bought at the Halloween Haven in Calamity Falls. Rose was wearing a dress of pale-blue satin with poofy sleeves and an even poofier skirt that sat atop layer after layer of itchy blue crinoline.
“Are the disguises really necessary?” Rose had asked her mother before they’d left for the studio. “If I had a shepherd’s staff, I would look just like Little Bo Peep.”
“You’ll need the disguises to ask your question,” Purdy had warned her. “If Lily recognises you, she’ll never call on you.”
A bearded man with a headset handed Rose a microphone as Rose stood. It took all her strength not to collapse. This was the moment of truth.
Rose raised the microphone to her trembling lips and spoke in a whisper. “Testing? Testing?” The microphone squealed with feedback.
“The microphones work!” Lily said. She was chuckling, but her eyes were narrowed. It was the same look of impatience that Rose had seen on her aunt’s face those times in the Bliss Bakery kitchen, the same look that Rose had chosen to ignore.
Look where ignoring my instincts has gotten me, Rose thought. Wearing a wig on TV.
But Rose knew – and her family agreed – that this was the only way to right the wrong that had been done.
Rose cleared her throat. “I think your Pump-Me-Up Pumpkin Muffins are bland and dry,” Rose said, pushing the words past the arid bubble of fear that squatted in her throat. She took a deep breath. “I could make a better pumpkin muffin.”
Everyone in the audience gasped and turned to look at her.
Lily glared at Rose. Then, for just an instant, Lily’s eyes went wide, and Rose knew that Lily had recognised her.
“Ha! We have a comedian in the audience!” Lily said, giggling and clapping. “That’s so cute! Next question!”
Before the next person could stand, Ty bounded up from his seat and pointed a finger in the air. In his grey beard and red cloak, he looked like Santa Claus. “This young lady, whom I have never seen before and am not related to, deserves a chance to bake!”
The studio fell silent. Scattered applause fluttered up from the audience.
Rose raised the microphone once more. “I challenge you, Lily Le Fay, to compete against me in the Gala des Gâteaux Grands in Paris, France.”
Rose handed the microphone back to the young man with the headset and plopped into her seat, her arms folded across her chest.
The audience gasped once more, looking back and forth between their idol and the curly-haired little girl who had just challenged her to a duel at the world’s most prestigious televised pastry competition – back and forth, back and forth, like they were watching a tennis match.
Lily stood frozen in the centre of her studio kitchen, wobbling on the points of her high-heeled shoes. Lily had no choice but to accept the challenge. If she didn’t, it would look like she was afraid of being outdone by an adolescent.
Suddenly Lily’s face transformed, her glare replaced by a sweet smile. “I accept the challenge! I will compete against this brave young thing at the Gala des Gâteaux Grands!”
The audience went wild, clapping and hooting and hollering.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” Lily asked.
Rose stood and pulled off the blonde wig, letting her long, black hair cascade down to her shoulders. “My name is Rosemary,” she said. “Rosemary Bliss.”
Beside her, Ty discreetly pumped his fist. “Yes!” he said.
“Well, Rosemary Bliss.” Lily spat out the name as if it were another term for a skin disease. “Just because you’re little doesn’t mean I’m going to go easy on you. You know that, right?”
“Yup,” Rose said defiantly. And she curtsied to her Aunt Lily, who steadied herself by leaning up against the kitchen counter.
I can’t believe I just did that, thought Rose.
* * *
At the end of the show, while the rest of the audience was filing out, the bearded man in the headset plucked Rose and Ty from the line. “Lily wants to see both of you,” he said. “This is huge! She never wants to see anyone!
“I’m Bruno,” he went on, leading Rose and Ty down a back hallway of the studio. “But Lily still doesn’t know my name. She calls me Bill. But hey, she’s Lily! She could call me Armpit for all I care.”
Rose scowled. It seemed Lily had everyone in the country wrapped around her elegant pinkie finger.
At the end of