Page 33 of Claim to Fame

“The filthier the better,” Mrs. Kemp added with a wink.

“I bet you’d like this week’s book, Ethan,” Mrs. White said.

“I’m not sure I would,” he said, the hair on the back of his neck prickling.

He should have known better. He should have sensed the old woman knew something. Hadn’t she already said she knew everything that happened in Aster Bay? Not that he really believed it, except…well, maybe he believed it a little.

“It’s a lovely medieval romance,” Mrs. Kemp offered. “The Lady’s Knights. That’s ‘knights’ with a ‘k,’ you see—and there’s more than one of them.” She bobbed her white eyebrows suggestively and Ethan felt all the blood drain from his face.

“Not sure why you’d think I’d be interested in something like that,” Ethan said carefully.

Mrs. White ran an assessing eye over him, like she could see right through him but was choosing to let him keep his secret for now. “My mistake,” she said at last.

“We should host a book club meeting at this year’s Reader Fest,” Mrs. Blumenthal said.

“It’s the least they could do to give us a space for a meeting since we’re practically planning the whole thing,” Mrs. Greene said.

“You’re planning Reader Fest?” Gavin asked. “I thought the library was in charge of that event.”

“Time to shake it up, don’t you think?” Mrs. Kemp said.

“Tell your lady friend she has a standing invitation to join us,” Mrs. White said.

He definitely wouldn’t be doing that. “I definitely will.”

“What was that about?” Jamie asked after the grandma gang had finally left.

Ethan shuffled the papers on his desk, avoiding his friend’s eye. “I have no idea.”

Chapter Nine

“Then I said to my Ricky, I said, ‘Ricky, you get out of that tree!’” The woman broke off another piece of the giant chocolate chip cookie she held in its wax paper wrapping and handed it to the preschooler at her feet without missing a beat in her story. Hannah watched as the child accepted the treat with a chubby hand and a toothy smile. “I said, ‘Jamie needs all your best Macomber turnips and he needs them now.’ And wouldn’t you know it, he didn’thaveany Macomber turnips and that’s how Jamie got into this mess!”

Ethan shot a secret smile at Hannah. “Cheryl, have you met Hannah?”

“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” the woman said, dusting cookie crumbs off her fingers by brushing them against her pant leg before extending her hand to Hannah. “Cheryl DaSilva. My husband Ricky and I run the farm around the corner from Ethan’s vineyard. We’re practically neighbors.”

“Oh, you’re the one with the rooster,” Hannah said as she shook Cheryl’s hand.

Cheryl beamed. “Terrence.”

“The rooster’s name is Terrence?” Hannah asked.

“Terrence McFancyCock,” Cheryl said seriously. “He’s new. Still settling in. Like you, I imagine?”

“Hannah’s staying with me for a bit,” Ethan supplied.

Cheryl’s smile spread, her eyes bouncing between Ethan and Hannah where they sat in the diner booth as she handed another piece of cookie to her son. “Well, I just love that for you! About time, if you ask me,” Cheryl said. “We’ve all be wondering how long it would take before you settled down.”

“Oh, we’re not—” Hannah said.

“Though, of course, I wouldn’t have minded if you waited another few months. Then Ricky and I would have won in the pool.”

“Excuse me?” Ethan said, his eyes narrowing at lightning speed.

“You know, the little wager some of us have going about when you’ll finally meet your Mrs. Right. Don’t tell me you didn’t know about it? Mrs. Kemp mentions it in her weekly newsletter all the time.”

Ethan scrubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t really do email.”