The Blue Door by Christa J. Kinde Page A

of Loafing Around caught JaycePomeroy’s attention. He waved at the figure darkening his doorstep, but finished sliding trays of warm muffins into the bakery case before crossing to undo the lock. “Good morning!” he greeted. “It’s a little earlier than I usually open, but I’ve been known to make exceptions for paperboys.”
    “No, sir, but thank you, sir,” the teen replied, nervously adjusting the strap on his newspaper bag. He cleared his throat, then launched into what had to be a very brief but carefully prepared speech. “Excuse me, sir. My name’s Ransom Pavlos, and I was wondering if you’re looking for part-time help?”
    “Sweeping up and taking out the trash don’t take much time in a shop this size, and I already have someone to run the register,” Jayce answered. Noting the flicker of disappointment on Ransom’s face, he made a quick decision and added, “There are always dishes to do, I suppose.”
    “I don’t mind doing that kind of work,” the young man quickly assured. “But I want to learn the trade. I want to bake.”
    “You’re interested in breads?” Jayce asked curiously.
    “And pastries, yeah,” Ransom replied, holding the older man’s gaze.
    “Why don’t you come in,” Mr. Pomeroy invited, holding the door wide. He waved the teen to one of the tables and took a seat across from him. “
Patisserie
— it’s not the aspiration of every young man.”
    “Was it yours?”
    “It was,” Jayce replied evenly.
    “I want to decorate cakes, too,” Ransom confessed, color rising in his cheeks.
    “No kidding!” the bakery owner replied, nodding approvingly.
    “Yeah, that’d be cool.”
    Jayce grinned broadly. “I think we can work something out. When can you start?”
    Ransom straightened. “Seriously?”
    “Sure,” Mr. Pomeroy replied, chuckling at the young man’s obvious relief.
    “Early mornings or after school,” the teen replied. “If you can match what I get for my morning paper route, my dad won’t put up as much of a stink when I give it up. He’s not exactly pleased about my plans.”
    Jayce nodded and confided, “Mine wasn’t either. He was
very
disappointed that I didn’t want to drive a tractor.”
    “Mine’s set on some kinda office job. I dunno exactly,” Ransom shrugged.
    “Do you want to come back now and explore the kitchen?” Mr. Pomeroy offered.
    For a moment, the teen looked tempted, but he shook his head. “I gotta finish my route.”
    “Fair enough,” Jayce replied. “Come back whenever you can, and we’ll work out the details.”
    “Tomorrow?”
    “Not unless you’re willing to meet me at First Baptist,” Mr. Pomeroy casually invited. “You’re welcome to.”
    “Uhh … not my thing,” Ransom mumbled. “Is Monday good?”
    “Sure. The bakery’s closed, but I’m here all afternoon doing prep. You can lend a hand, and we’ll take it from there.”
    “Yeah,” the teen agreed, smiling crookedly. “Thanks, sir.”
    Prissie twirled, admiring the way her skirt flared out, before taking a seat on one of the benches inside the gazebo in front of town hall. She’d bought the snowy white sundress with its pattern of red poppies to wear to her best friend Margery’s birthday party next week, but couldn’t resist giving it a test run on the off-chance that she would run into Milo. Of course, she didn’t really
want
to see him, but it might be nice to be seen.
    Being angry with someone she cared about made Prissie unhappy, so she’d been relieved when the mailman had acted more like himself when delivering Aunt Ida’s package to Grandma’s. Maybe it
was
possible to pretend nothing had happened, and then everything could go back to normal.
    She’d seen neither hide nor hair of Koji all day, which seemed strange after all his tagging along. It was easy to convince herself that she didn’t miss having him around, but harder to explain why her world suddenly felt off-kilter.
    Even Margery and April hadn’t responded to