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Vickie scoffed. “He’d be waiting a long time if he expected any more than that from Connie.”
Connie Phelps’s husband left her years ago, and it had taken alongtime for her to get over it. But if she was dating, things were definitely turning around for her.
“Stan’s a decent guy,” Vickie said, earning a surprised look from Rick. “What? You think I don’t know every ma... I mean,personin this town? Stan owned a little variety shop on Main Street for years—souvenirs and stuff. He was active on the festival committee, and supported St. Vincent’s children’s drive with a truckful of new toys every year.”
“Well, now he’s boinking Connie Phelps.” Rick sipped his ice tea and winked at Vickie.
“Oh, please. They’re both in their seventies. I think they’re a little too old for boinking, don’t you?”
“Victoria Pendergast.” Cecile set her glass down, her eyes wide. “You’re seventy yourself! Are you suggestingyou’retoo old for sex?”
If nothing else, she was old enough toworryabout being too old for sex. The porch was oddly silent. Vickie looked around and found several other patrons staring at their table. Her eyes narrowed on Cecile.
“Gee, why don’t you shout that a little louder? I don’t think the people in the next town heard you.”
Rick laughed, pushing his chair back from the table. “I’m not quite as ancient as you ladies, but I can tell you I’m not planning on slowing down my sex life...” He stood. “Although finding a good man is taking longer than I’d like. I have to run. I’m meeting with a contractor about remodeling the kitchen.”
As the other diners resumed their conversations, Cecile put her hand on Vickie’s arm, her voice dropping to a whisper.
“Sweetie, I know it’s been...a while...since you’ve had a relationship, but trust me, you don’t have to age out of enjoying sex. It just gets...different.” Cecile sat back. “Wait...whyareyou worried about this? Are you seeing someone?”
Her thoughts strayed to Gordy just long enough to pique her friends’ interest. Now it was Maura who was on the edge of her seat.
“Ooh... Cecile, I think you’re onto something. That’s definitely Vickie’sI’ve got a secretface. What have you been up to, and why haven’t you told me about it? I’m your bestie, remember?” Vickie kicked herself, because Maura’s voice was teasing, but there was a flash of hurt in her eyes. They’d been best friends since their school days.
“I’mnotseeing anyone.” Her eyes closed. Why was she talking about this? “You both know that Gordy Lexiter is building a new deck at my place, right?”
Maura’s and Cecile’s expressions were identical—mouths open, eyes round. Before they could say anything, Iris Taggart walked over and took a seat at the table. She was in what Vickie called hersweet old ladygarb, complete with ruffled apron. She’d smiled at all the other tables, greeting them as the charming elderly innkeeper, chitchatting about the big storm and suggesting places for her guests to visit. But once Iris sat, she took in the scene and started laughing.
“Spill it, girls. What’s going on? What has Vickie done now?”
Maura’s mouth finally closed and slid into a smirk. “The question iswhoVickie’s doing.”
“Oh, hot damn,” Iris rested her chin in her hand. “Do tell.”
“I’m not doinganyone,” Vickie hissed, looking around to make sure no one was listening. “We just kissed, for God’s sake.”
The three women sucked in deep gasps at once.
“Youkissedhim?” Maura clamped her hand over her mouth, realizing how loud she’d just spoken. Her voice dropped. “YoukissedGordy? Didn’t you two have a little thing in high school?”
“What?” Cecile shook her head, as if she hadn’t heard right. “You and Gordy back in high school? Are we talking first base or home run?”
Iris’s eyes widened. “Well, good for you!”
“How was it?” Maura’s voice turned tender.
“The kiss? Amazing.” She couldn’t help smiling a little. “He said he wants more, but...” She glanced at Iris and lifted her shoulder. “He reallyisn’tmy type. And it’s been a long time since I was with anyone...that way.”
The three women stared at each other, then looked back to Vickie. Maura spoke first.
“I agree with Iris—good for you. I know you care about your image or whatever, but we all know the real Vickie.” Maura reached out and took Vickie’s hand. “The one who didn’t exactly grow up in a waterfront mansion.”
That was true enough. Her mom raised her in a humble bungalow on the edge of town—it wasn’t a Victorian, and it definitely never made it onto any historic home tours.
“I don’t live in a mansion...”
“You have one of the grandest homes in Rendezvous Falls,” Iris pointed out, “and you live there alone. It’s okay to let another man into your life, especially a decent one like Gordy. And he’s a hot silver fox, too.”
