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Zara seems even more relieved than I am, her smile wider than before.
Delores and two other elderly women approach the table and put their coffee mugs on it.
One of the other women leans down and kisses Simone on the cheek. Then the three older women grab chairs from the empty table next to us and move them over to our table. We scoot our chairs over to make space, and they take a seat.
“Jess. This is my grandmother, Rose.” Simone nods at the woman who shares her hazel eyes. The one who’d kissed her. “And her two friends, Samantha and Delores.”
Delores grins at me, deep, knowing creases forming at the corners of her eyes. “We’ve met. Jess is my new neighbor.”
“Oh,you’rethe new neighbor,” Samantha gushes, her voice cheery and crinkly with age. “We’ve heard all about you. You’re the poor soul who has to go through all those magazines Iris held on to for too many years.”
“It probably would have been worse if she hadn’t waited until Lizzie got married before she started collecting them,” Rose points out, and I give a silentThank Godto that.
“Lizzie?” I ask.
“She was Iris’s niece,” Rose explains. “Lizzie’s parents died when she was little, and Iris became her guardian. Lizzie was Anne’s mother. She died about twenty years ago.”
Silence falls over the group for a beat. The chatter from the customers sitting at the other tables chips away at Rose’s news.
“Jessica is writing a thriller. Isn’t that exciting?” Delores says, doing a complete turn-around in topics, and ignoring how I told her last week the novel is on hold for the time being. She swivels her shoulders to me. “What’s it about?”
Zara picks up her coffee mug. “You’re writing a thriller? You never mentioned that the other day. And you really don’t know Garrett Carson?”
“To be honest, I didn’t know his name until Anne mentioned him.” I already told Zara and Troy how I knew Garrett’s name, but I guess if I’m writing a thriller, it must seem weird I’m not familiar with aNew York Timesbestselling author in my genre. An author whose books are placed on the table at the front of the bookstore. “I’ve put the novel on the back burner for a bit. I’m doing research for the story, and I’m going to be busy for a while renovating my house.” Sounds like a good enough excuse. It’s halfway correct, at least. “I’m not ready to talk about the story yet because…because I don’t want to jinx myself.”
The first part is mostly true. As for the jinxing, who knows if that’s a thing when it comes to writing books. But it sounds like a good reason for not talking about the story prematurely. The story that I don’t plan to write.
“Well, I can’t wait to hear more about it once you can share details with us.” Delores pats my hand and turns to Simone. “The girls and I”—she nods at Rose and Samantha—“have given some thought to the main attraction for Troy’s charity festival idea.”
“Charity festival?” I ask, my inner journalist getting the better of me.
Zara and Delores fill me in on the details. The more they tell me, the more an impressed warmth fills my chest at what Troy wants to accomplish.
“So the main attraction should be…” Delores gives a dramatic pause and looks at each of us in turn.
Her two friends eagerly nod. And I try not to giggle at how much they remind me of Granny, with their warm smiles and that sense of camaraderie—like they’re all in it together. I bet she would’ve loved these three women.
“Well, it’s more like one idea,” Delores says. “They could auction off dates with hot men—”
“Of all ages,” Samantha pipes in.
“Right, of all ages,” Delores echoes.
Yep, Granny would have been besties with these women and called them a hoot. And she would’ve been all for their suggestion.
Zara and Emily exchange grinning glances and crack up laughing. I can’t contain my laughter either. And it feels good. Freeing. I can’t remember the last time I laughed…or had a reason to laugh.
“You can guarantee Katelyn Bell will be all over that if Troy’s part of the auction.” Still grinning, Emily picks up her coffee.
“Katelyn and quite a few other women, too, no doubt,” Simone says with the look of someone who has done the mental math of what it means and is impressed with the results.
Delores rubs her hands together, clearly excited about this. “Even better. The demand for him will drive up the bidding price. And it won’t be any different for Lucas, Garrett, and Kellan.”
That comment seems to sober Simone, Zara, and Emily, and they stop laughing. Zara and Emily stare at the contents of their coffee mugs.
Simone’s eyes widen, and her mouth goes momentarily slack. “Wait, my husband’s going to be auctioned off for a date with another woman?”
Samantha rolls her eyes like a girl six decades younger but with a little extra sass. “It’s not like he’s expected to kiss her. This is just a fun date. And Rose is okay with it if John is one of the bachelors.”
