Last Chance Book Club(7)
Author: Hope Ramsay

“Oooh, I forgot that Arlene was responsible for refreshments this time,” Rocky said. “She always buys cupcakes at the bakery over in Allenberg.”

Rocky pulled Savannah into the knot of women by the table and started making introductions. Someone handed Savannah a paper plate with a red velvet cupcake. She taste-tested it. The icing was excellent, but the cake was a skosh dry. Granny’s cake recipe was better.

“Come meet Jenny,” Rocky said as she dragged Savannah away from her thoughts.

Jenny wore one of those shapeless flowered dresses that came down below her knees. Her brown hair sat atop her head in a messy bun, and she wore a pair of big eyeglasses.

“Savannah was just telling me how much she enjoyed the pies you baked for Harry’s wake, Jenny,” Rocky said.

Jenny gave Savannah a shy smile. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t make Mr. Randall’s funeral. We had school that day.”

“The pies were much appreciated,” Savannah replied, stunned that this wallflower of a woman had captured the male population of Last Chance by their taste buds. Heaven help the female population if Jenny ever got a makeover. Because despite the specks, bun, and dress, she was attractive—with golden skin and amber eyes.

Savannah was about to ask Jenny about her piecrust recipe when Rocky grabbed her by the arm and pulled her away. “C’mon, you need to meet Molly Canaday, her momma runs the yarn shop and her daddy is the coach of the football team. She wasn’t at the funeral either, because she’s a mechanic at the Grease Pit.”

“Really?”

“Yup. You shouldn’t ever take your car any other place, because Molly and Bubba are the best mechanics in Allenberg County. And if you ever decide to take up knitting and need a teacher, go to Molly, not her mother. Molly has a gift with yarn and cars.”

Molly had a beautiful mane of curly black hair that had to be the envy of everyone in that room. But her hair was her only concession to her gender. She wore no makeup, her jeans had holes in the knees, and her gray T-shirt said, “I love the smell of gasoline in the morning.”

Jane Rhodes, Rocky’s sister-in-law, was standing next to Molly. Savannah remembered the pregnant woman from the funeral. Jane worked at the Cut ’n Curl and was married to Rocky’s older brother, Clay.

On the desk in front of them, Jane had spread out the ugliest, most misshapen sweater-in-progress Savannah had ever seen. The yarn was a pretty shade of pink, but the stitches were a mess.

“Well,” Molly was saying to Jane as Savannah and Rocky approached, “you clearly lost count of the decreases for the raglan sleeves.”

“I did?” Jane said.

“You’ll have to frog it back to here.” Molly pointed to a place in the knitting.

“I’m never going to figure this out. If the baby wasn’t due so soon, I would start something new.” Jane looked up. “Oh hi, Rocky, Savannah.”

Rocky snorted a laugh. “Jane, honey, how many unfinished sweaters do you have now?”

“A few,” Jane said, and then turned toward Savannah. “I think what you’re planning to do with the theater is really great.”

Savannah gritted her teeth. How on earth was she going to tell everyone that she’d abandoned her plans for the theater? Her stomach felt queasy. There were too many new people here.

One of them came up carrying a Vera Bradley bag. She dropped it on the table and pulled out a knitting project. “Molly, honey, you have to help me. Where have I gone wrong?”

Molly sighed. “Cathy, why don’t you take your knitting to Momma? She’s the one who owns the shop.”

“I do, but her instructions never make much sense to me. On the other hand, you are a natural-born teacher, not to mention that you’re a yarn whisperer if I ever saw one. Now, how exactly do I do that three-needle bind-off you were telling me about?”

The newcomer was introduced as Cathy Niles, and within a few minutes Cathy and Molly were bent over the project in deep consultation. Rocky pulled Savannah away, and in the space of the next few minutes Savannah was introduced to half a dozen other women whose names went right out of her head.

Hettie Marshall was the last to arrive. She strolled in ten minutes late dressed in a royal blue knit ensemble that might have been Armani. She had all the élan of a movie star at the Oscars, and her arrival seemed to signal the beginning of the meeting. The book club members took seats around one of the tables. Almost half of them, not including Molly the yarn whisperer or Hettie the fashion plate, had brought knitting projects with them.

The meeting was called to order by Nita Wills, the librarian. “So, what did y’all think about our book this time?” she asked.

The silence was so deep that Savannah could hear the clicking of knitting needles. Nita didn’t look pleased. “Did any of y’all read it?”

“I did,” Jenny whispered, a blush rising to her face.

“And?”

“Well, I thought it was sad.”

“All the books we read are sad,” Cathy grumbled.

“But what about—”

“Cathy and Jenny are right, you know,” Molly interrupted. “Every book you choose is a complete bummer. I read most of this one, and to be honest, I hated the hero. He was pathetic. I mean, how many times is he going to talk himself out of doing something about his situation? He could have had love and freedom and a good life. All he had to do was quit his job. The fact that he ultimately dies at the end is only what he deserved for being such a wimp.”

“I never got all the way through it,” Arlene said. “I kept falling asleep when the hero would start talking to himself.”

“Didn’t any of you get the theme?” Nita asked.

“You mean that losers always lose?” Molly asked.

Nita glowered. “No. The book is a statement on how big corporations grind the average man into a fine pulp.”

Arlene cleared her throat. “Right, and that message is so uplifting.”

“It’s not supposed to uplift. It’s supposed to be a warning. Just look at what corporations are doing to our culture. Have you watched any reality TV lately?” Nita said.

Arlene met Nita’s stare without a blink. “Nita, honey, you need to get a life. Have you even watched Real Housewives? It’s entertaining.”

“No, I haven’t watched that show,” Nita said. “You realize it’s not really reality. And this book we’ve just read is a social commentary on that.”

“Right,” Cathy said, “but could we, for once, read a book without any social commentary in it? Could we maybe read a romance. I’m a particular fan of June Moring.”

“Oh, my God, yes,” Arlene said. “Did you read Destiny? I swear that pirate made my heart sing. I just love her heroes.”

“Ladies, this is a literary book club. We don’t read romance here.” Nita glared at the women around the table.

“But couldn’t we just once?” Cathy asked in a small voice.

A muscle ticked along Nita’s jaw, and Savannah worried that she might be about to stroke out. In fact, aside from the color of her skin, Nita looked exactly like Savannah’s ex-mother-in-law when Claire was about to blow a fuse. And when Claire blew, you didn’t want to be in the same room.

So Savannah stepped right into the breach. The way she always did when Claire looked like she was ready to explode. “Uh, I know I’m a guest here, but couldn’t you read a literary romance? You know, like Pride and Prejudice or something?”

Everyone turned to look at her. And then they turned to look at Nita. It was sort of like being at a tennis match, only with knitting needles and no rackets or balls. Savannah’s palms began to sweat, the same way they always did when she found the gumption to stand up to Claire. Only this wasn’t Claire. Nita was the local librarian, and while she was clearly the leader of the book club, she seemed like a pretty reasonable person. Way more reasonable than Claire had ever been.

Nita smiled. “Thanks for that suggestion, Savannah, but I’m sure everyone has already read that book.”

“I haven’t,” Savannah blurted. “Of course, I have seen every version of the movie. I think the BBC television series is the best one.”

“Oh, I completely agree with you there,” Rocky said. “Colin Firth is the best Darcy, bar none.”

“You’re only saying that because your husband looks and sounds like Colin Firth,” Cathy commented.

“Am not. Hugh is nothing like Colin Firth.”

“Much,” Arlene said, batting her mascara-laden eyelashes.

Nita looked down her nose at Savannah. “You really haven’t read Pride and Prejudice?”

“Well, don’t get up on your high horse, Nita,” Molly said, “I haven’t read it either.”

“Neither have I,” Hettie said.

Everyone looked down the table at Hettie.

She smiled. “Don’t y’all look at me that way. I haven’t read it. And I haven’t even seen the movie. Let’s have a show of hands. How many of y’all have read the book?”

Only Rocky and Nita raised their hands, and Rocky punctuated the point by saying, “I’ve read it, but I wouldn’t mind reading it again. It’s a particular favorite of mine.”

“Well then, that settles it, girls,” Hettie said. “We’re going to read Pride and Prejudice next.”

“Now, Hettie, I’m sure that we can—”

Hettie cut Nita off. “Nita, honey, I know you love the idea of having a literary book club. But that doesn’t mean light comedy or happy love stories can’t ever get onto our reading list. To be honest, I’m tired of having my mind improved. I just want to read something fun. With a happy ending. And besides, I think reading Pride and Prejudice would be a wonderful way of welcoming Savannah to our group. That was a very good book suggestion, Savannah. I’m so glad you’re here. I’m sure we’re going to be great friends.”

Savannah stared at Hettie. There was an avid look on Hettie’s face that made a shiver of warning skip up Savannah’s spine. Hettie wanted something from her.

Chapter 4

Dash sat in the rocking chair, trying not to worry about Aunt Mim. And the more he tried to push his worry aside, the more annoyed he got at the kid. Todd was sitting on the porch swing with his video game and his earphones.

The kid was not his problem. Miriam was. But every time he glanced Todd’s way, something jolted through him. He recognized that kid. He knew him inside and out. And having to sit here and watch him was driving Dash right up a wall. He wanted to escape to Dottie’s place, but she’d made it clear that he was no longer welcome there.

He ground his teeth together and glanced at the kid again. Jeez, he looked pasty white. He needed to get out in the sun. Too bad it wasn’t quite warm enough to take him down to the river for a swim.

Maybe he could put the kid to work mucking out stalls. He smiled at the thought. Then he checked himself. What the hell did he know about kids anyway?