Was that why she’d asked me in for tea? To ply me for gossip? I said, “Only rumors.”
“Well, it’s a shame, you ask me. That sweet Ipo Ho and his Quail Ridge Honeybee Farm won’t be able to compete.”
“Why not?”
“First off, Kaitlyn will update everything. Then she’ll produce twice as much honey at half the price. I’ve heard that’s what she does.”
Not following, I said, “She owns other honeybee farms?”
“And cattle farms, goat farms, wineries, and more.” Lois bobbed her head in rhythm. “I overheard her talking when she was staying here. She loves to update everything. She hates to let things remain behind the times.”
“Kaitlyn was a guest here?”
“For one night. She moved to Violet’s across town. Good riddance.” Lois swatted the air.
Violet’s Victoriana Inn was Lois’s competition, and Lois was quite vocal about not liking Violet’s sense of style. The inn was less homey than Lavender and Lace and a heap more expensive, although it did have a number of perks. Violet had hired a full-time masseuse and hairdresser. From what I could tell, Violet’s place was more Kaitlyn Clydesdale’s style—brash and aloof.
Lois clucked her tongue. “She’s not to be trusted.”
“Violet?”
“Kaitlyn Clydesdale. Mark my words. I knew her years ago. She’ll eat up this town.” Lois looked at least five years older than Kaitlyn. Had their age difference colored her view? “She was a terror as a girl. Willful.”
I knew a lot of willful people, but that didn’t make any of them a terror.
“Willful,” Lois repeated, and left it at that.
* * *
The sugary aroma of freshly made toffee in the Igloo Ice Cream Parlor snaked its way up the stairways, beneath the doors, and into the brightly lit yoga studio where my girlfriends and I were attending class. My stomach grumbled like a volcano. Sitting in the butterfly pose invariably made me hungry—don’t ask me why. My pal Freckles, a button of a woman dressed in neon orange workout clothes, giggled at the noise. Meredith, Delilah, and Jacky joined in. I hushed them all with a glare. Freckles stuck out her tongue.
“Real mature,” I whispered.
“Lie flat on your mats,” the stick-thin yoga instructor said.
All of us un-pretzled our bodies and obeyed.
“Hands beneath your buttocks and lift your right leg. Inhale up, exhale down. Now, the left leg. Inhale up . . .”
I breathed out my earlier frustration with Chip, and focused on Jordan’s winning smile and gentle hands and delicious kisses. I wondered if he would be free later. Would it be too brazen if I called?
“Plow pose. Raise your hips over your head. Touch your toes to the ground.”
Jacky, Jordan’s darkly elegant sister who glowed with new mommy joy even though, for the first time in her life, she was battling tummy bulge, only made it halfway in the plow pose. She moaned with frustration and tried harder. Freckles, who had recently given birth to a second daughter, moaned as well.
“Psst.” Despite the odd position, Meredith turned her head sideways. Her flexibility had something to do with regular exercise, I was pretty sure—something I needed to do more of. “Ipo will have to work things out for himself regarding the new competition with Clydesdale Enterprises, I’m afraid.”
“She’s right,” Freckles chimed in.
Before entering the classroom, I had told my friends about my chat with Lois.
“Does Ipo have any recourse?” Jacky asked.
“There’s nothing in the town’s bylaws that states someone can’t have a competing business,” Delilah said. She would know. A number of competitors had tried to lure customers away from the Country Kitchen.
“Ladies, quiet,” the yoga instructor said. “Silence is good for the soul.”
“But silence won’t solve the world’s problems,” I whispered.
Freckles tittered. “You’re bad.”
Delilah laughed, too. So did Meredith. The instructor gave us the evil eye.
While still attempting to achieve the perfect plow pose, Jacky said, “Meredith, when’s the wedding?”
“We’re thinking autumn. The college will be up and running by then.” Meredith’s enthusiasm was contagious.
“I love fall weddings,” Freckles gushed.
Meredith had hired Freckles and her staff at Sew Inspired Quilt Shoppe to sew all the dresses for the wedding, mine included. But when was the wedding going to be? Autumn was such a nebulous time frame. Did Meredith mean September, October, or November? A girl needed to plan ahead. I didn’t want to lose five pounds in August for nothing.
“Delilah, how are things going with Luigi?” Meredith asked, switching subjects deftly. Luigi Bozzuto was the owner of Providence’s only four-star restaurant, La Bella Ristorante.
“Great. He’s helping me divine some new grilled cheese sandwich recipes.” She made a humming sound as she often did when talking about food. “How does Vella Dry Jack, bacon, red onions, and syrup sound?”
“Decadent,” Meredith said.
“Utterly.” Delilah grinned. “Luigi said I should call it the
I said, “Ig Vella was considered the godfather of American artisan cheese—a term he hated, by the way. His father founded Rogue Creamery with the help of J. L. Kraft.”
“Wow,” Meredith said.
“Luigi is such a card.” Delilah laughed. She hoped to host a grilled cheese contest in Providence someday. In an effort to create the most unique sandwiches imaginable, Delilah had sought Luigi’s advice. Within a week, Luigi and she had started dating. Though Luigi was at least twenty years older than Delilah, he could keep up with her intense pace and he loved to dance. The level of dance ability didn’t matter to Delilah. Good, bad, or indifferent at the skill, a man’s job was to get her out on the dance floor.
“How are things with Urso?” Delilah asked Jacky, who had achieved the plow pose—just barely.
“Unfurl, ladies, and roll onto your stomachs,” the instructor advised. “Arch your back in the cobra pose.”
As we all obeyed the command, Delilah said, “Yoo-hoo, Jacky … Umberto Urso … hello. I asked you a question.”
Jacky drew in a deep breath but kept mute. The day after she found out she was pregnant by insemination, she started dating Providence’s chief of police, who was one of my best friends. Had they broken up? I couldn’t remember having seen them strolling together or holding hands in quite a while. I would hate it if they split up. Urso had seemed so happy. Jacky, too.
“Cat-cow,” the instructor said.
We all drew to our knees, inhaled, and rolled our backs toward the ceiling.
“Fine, don’t talk about Urso,” Delilah said. “Charlotte, where’s Rebecca? Why hasn’t she joined us in this no- talking zone?”
“She’s consoling Ipo,” I answered.
“That’s not what I hear,” Freckles said. “I hear they’re going to do it.”
“Wahoo.” Delilah whistled under her breath.
I groaned. How many people had Rebecca confided in? “Not
That earned laughter and a round of “Uh-huh, right,” from Meredith, Delilah, and Jacky.
“Ladies, please, no talking, or I’ll have to ask you to leave,” the instructor said. “This is a relaxing environment.”
“I’m not talking,” Freckles said. “I’m laughing.”
“No laughing, as well.”
Delilah flat-out guffawed. I couldn’t hold in my chuckles any longer, either.
The five of us scrambled to our feet, gathered our things from the rear of the room, and hustled into the foyer of the yoga studio. Our laughter chorused above the burbling water fountain. Lyrical music, designed to make those who entered the hallowed studio calm, filtered through speakers, but we simply couldn’t be serene.
