Oh. Right. The pregnant woman who’d handed her a decrepit binder yesterday, announced she was in labor, and vanished like she’d won an argument.
“Please tell me you’re calling from a morphine haze.”
Silence.
“No, from the Bahamas.”
Frankierolled her eyes.
“Of course I’m calling from the hospital,” Vivian added. “Where else would I be after evicting two tiny humans from my body?”
Frankie shuddered. “You had twobabies?”
“Identical twins.”
She’d always thought having a twin might’ve made life a little more tolerable. Someone to share long evenings while Mom worked. Or even just a sibling she actually knew. Unlike the one she’d learned about last year. “And you’re calling me because…?”
“Because my business doesn’t vanish just because I’m recovering. I’m still running things from my hospital bed.”
Frankie didn’t hate the woman’s work ethic. Or her ability to throw shade while on postpartum painkillers. “Fine. Impress me.”
“The Book Club Festival Committee meets tonight,” Vivian said. “Since I can’t exactly waddle in with an IV drip, you’ll be taking charge.”
“Yeah, about that. No. I’m allergic to committees.”
“Well, that’s…crushing news. I’ll alert the town to lower their expectations.”
“I’m sure someone else is dying to prove their worth,” Frankie said, already scanning the counter for aspirin.
Papers rustled on the other end, like Vivian kept a backup store binder in her hospital go bag. “Moving on. If Rae Mathers shows up, march her straight back to school.”
“Who?”
“Gi Gi’s Crossing’s fourteen-year-old menace. Thinks school is optional. She hides out in local businesses like she’s starring in a small-townMission Impossible.”
Frankie’s headache bloomed. “And she’s targeting you because…you’re the cool, understanding type?”
“She’ll show up because you’re new and she’ll assume you’re a sucker.”
“How would she sucker me, exactly?”
“She’ll claim she’s researching Fourth Wing for a school project. Or shadowing business owners for a made-up Girl Scout badge. She’s inventive.”
“Got it. Rae equals liar until proven otherwise.”
“You’ll have to do more than that. You escort her to the school. No detours, no distractions.”
Frankie propped a hand on her hip. “Not happening. You’re not paying me enough to wrangle the town’s rogue teenager.” On second thought, she had no idea if she was being paid at all. Knowing Mr. Uptight, this was probably a volunteer gig disguised as community integration.
“Honey, small towns are one big family. We all pitch in. I’m letting you off the festival hook, but with Rae? No wiggle room,” Vivian said breezily.
“This town is exhausting.”
“You’ll be fine,” Vivian chirped. “Gotta run. Gatsby’s screaming, Daisy’s glaring, and oh…nope, yep…gotta go.”
The line clicked.
Frankie hung up and glanced out the window. The woman had named her children afterThe Great Gatsby. The theme of this year’s book festival. She shuddered to think what they’d be called if the theme had beenFifty Shades. Nothing like shouting “Christian!” across a playground and making every mom within earshot think of handcuffs.
