Countdown

Best to forget about the Big Trip, Olive felt, by keeping busy. Maybe Mrs. Claus wanted some muffins taken to the hospital.

She headed for the bakery.

Lovely smells drifted from it: mincemeat tarts, chocolate cakes, jelly doughnuts, date squares, brownies, buns, bread, all kinds of muffins and cookies.

"Hi, Olive. That nose of yours sure works mighty fine," Mrs. Claus said. "Here’s a nice warm raisin and oatmeal cookie just for you."

"No thank you, Mrs. Claus," Olive said. "I’m not hungry. I just came over to see if you wanted some muffins taken over to the hospital."

"I’m sorry, we made the muffin delivery this afternoon when you were at the toy factory."

"Oh."

Mrs. Claus gave Olive a close look. "What’s the matter, Olive? Why the glum looking face?"

Olive pawed at the ground. "Well — it’s nothing. Nothing."

Mrs. Claus fixed Olive’s blue bow. It was crooked. "Something is bothering you. Tell me, Olive, don’t be shy with me. We girls have to stick together. What is it?"

"It’s nothing, Mrs. Claus. I’d better go now and see if they need me one last time at the toy factory."

Olive trotted off.

"You’re my favorite reindeer you know. I’m always around if you need me," Mrs. Claus called after her.