Novel & Cerita Mrs Muffins

At the counter, a woman with tired grace and mischief in her eyes rearranged jars of preserves. “Welcome to St. James,” she said. “I’m Ruth. Kitchen’s in prayer over the shrimp. You here to eat or to confess?” “Both,” Mabel said. “She’s here to investigate.” Ruth sized them up with the efficiency of a woman who had watched dreams invest and walk out before dessert. “You must be kin to Mr. du Prée.” “His mother,” Marvella said. Ruth’s smile softened. “Then we’ll put you where you can see everything.”

"So, which muffins should I try?" Ashley replied enthusiastically, "All of them! We usually bake cookies for the New Year, but Mommy and I want to bake something new this year!" I bit my inner lip when I saw there were six muffin cakes on the tray, each topped with colorful decorations, sprinkles, fruit, and a generous dollop of whipped cream. Too many calories. "Well, I don’t think I can eat them all at once," I said with a smile, "but I’ll try them all. Which one is your favorite, Ashley?"

She was in her mid-thirties, and the man looked like he was in his forties. "What are your names," I asked nicely, and they relaxed a bit. They must have thought I was like Stacy. "Michelle Wilson and Jacob Wilson. We live down the road, Luna," The woman said, and I smiled at them. "Nice to meet you two. So what are you doing?" I asked her, and she smiled at me. " I am making fresh pastries. Danish puff pastry. Cinnamon rolls, croissants and fresh bread," she said, and I opened my eyes.

Hazel eyes, green with brown flecks that remind me of the forest for some reason, with a pleasant, non-terrifying smile, asked, “Actually, how are the muffins?” All black gives him a questioning look as he steps aside. With a shrug, he states, “What? I’m hungry all of a sudden.” Paityn takes that moment to calm herself down enough to answer, grateful for the interruption. “Actually, they are delicious. A friend of mine bakes them fresh everyday. Come to think of it, she makes pretty much everything here but the coffee.” “Really, that seems like a lot of work.” Paityn noticed the overly muscular man, at least in her opinion, go join his friends at the table as hazel eyes continued to order.

He laughed as I looked at him like he was crazy. I peeled the plastic it was wrapped in away and the smell of apples and cinnamon filled the hallway. Eddie smiled to me as he nodded his head and I took a huge bite. When the light breaded treat hit my mouth it was like an explosion of flavors burst into my mouth, and the more I chewed, the more flavors came to the surface. There were chunks of sweet apples, and chunks of a crunchy sweet cinnamon in the muffin that you only noticed the more you chewed. It was a heavenly mixture of flavors and I could help the moan of enjoyment that came out as I swallowed the bite. "Apple crunch muffins. Amazing aren't they? Nova is the pack's pastry chef. Hon

So that when her test results came out a week later, she was caught off guard. "Mrs Thane, I appreciate you coming in today. We have your test results back, and I want us to go through them together. "That sounds ominous" she joked and when the doctor only smiled, her stomach dropped. "What did you find? Is it bad?" "There are some concerns, yes..." **********************************************

“Having a shower then going to the dining room getting us both something to eat. He's bringing it up here.” “Tell him to come straight here, I'll get someone to bring you both food up.” Oscar joined us just a couple minutes later, and his backside hadn’t even touched the chair yet when someone knocked on the door. Paula was a close friend of my mum’s, and was easily my favourite member of the kitchen staff because it’s her recipe that is used for the chocolate muffins, and she’d brought up not only breakfast for the boys and coffee, but she’d brought me up a tray of sweet snacks too.

At some point I must have slept because I wake with a start in the early hours of the morning. I realise the faint noise I hear must be Andreas starting up for the morning, so I lie in bed listening to the sounds, feeling less alone. When it is clear that I am not going to be able to go back to sleep, I get up and make a coffee. I am tired but antsy, so I do what I always do when my life spirals out of control: I bake. Muffins are my friend this morning, so I find myself making several batches. I know I make mean apple and cinnamon muffins, but this morning I go further, adding lemon and poppy seed, carrot and pecan and savoury bran to my repertoire. I also make a couple of chocolate fudge c

“Well, nothing that butter and sugar can’t fix. Now move, woman. Let’s get inside before the universe gives me another parking ticket for standing here too long.” She shifted the box in her hands and gestured dramatically toward the entrance. “Your humble servant awaits entry.” The glass doors reflected us both, her in her oversized cream sweater and jeans dusted with flour, and me in my sleek black coat and fragile calm. Two women on opposite ends of the emotional spectrum, bound by chaos and caffeine. I pulled open the door. “After you, Your Majesty of Muffins.” “Thank you, Your Majesty of Melodrama,” she replied, brushing past with mock regality.

Camila Nothing tastes better right now than peanut butter and yogurt on top of a blueberry muffin. I didn’t have this epiphany until this morning, but I’m confident I’m right. Why else would I be slathering my third muffin in thick white yogurt, licking chunky peanut butter off my thumb while hovering over the sink in the kitchen? Because you’re a crazy pregnant woman. Well, okay. That probably factors in.