“No, I will not hold on. This is fraud and tampering and whatever else you can think of. I want her arrested.” She jabbed a finger toward my Nana.
Nana lifted her hands. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Oh yes, you did. It had to be you. You’re the only one with the key to the Elks fridge.”
My stomach cramped. The appliance was locked up like a gold vault with just one key, ever since Tommy Maloney had been caught sneaking out vodka bottles for his family reunion two years previous.
Nana blinked. “Well, yes, but only because I was the last one to put my pie in last night. I didn’t sabotage anything.”
I winced.
“Was anybody with you?” the sheriff asked.
Nana hesitated. “No.”
Gloria planted her hands on her hips. “My pie was just fine when I dropped it off. I passed you going in. Nobody else entered after you, did they? Did you give the key to anybody?”
“No,” Nana said, “I’m definitely the last person to have visited the kitchen before today when we all retrieved our pies, but I wouldn’t put lotion in your pie. You know that.”
“I do not know that. I think you’ve been cheating for years.”
A sharp gasp ran through the crowd like a ripple across water.
“Now, that’s enough,” Nonna Albertini, my other grandmother, said. She strode toward us from the Elks’ ladies float, where she’d been wiring on extra clovers.
I blinked. Nonna Albertini and Nana O’Shea didn’t like each other. Ever. Nobody knew why, or at least, nobody in the know would tell. They’d created a détente when my parents got married, but they couldn’t be more different. Yet here Nonna was, defending Nana.
Nana’s rosy mouth dropped open and then snapped shut again.
Nonna Albertini crossed her arms. “Listen, I think pie contests are stupid, as you all know.” Her Italian accent thickened with every syllable. “I do not have an Irish pie in this, but I tell you now, Fiona would never cheat.”
My eyes flew to my sister Tessa. Her brows nearly touched her hairline. She gave me the smallest shake of her head. I shrugged. None of this made sense.
Tessa stood a few feet away, her reddish-blond hair glowing under the weak March sunlight, those unmistakable Irish-green eyes wide with disbelief. She wore jeans and a soft green sweater that matched her eyes perfectly. If anyone could blend casual comfort with quiet beauty, it was Tessa. She looked like she’d stepped out of a Celtic postcard, minus the harp.
“I don’t care what you say, Elda,” Gloria snapped. “The only person who could have sabotaged this pie is Fiona. No one else had the chance, unless you use lotion to cook, of course.”
Nana’s green eyes flared. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. You think I’d waste good lotion on you?”
My breath caught. Nana was going to battle for herself, and soon she’d start spitting curses. I edged back as Tessa did the same. No way did I want to get caught in a thrown curse.
Even the sheriff hesitated. His hand hovered near his belt buckle, and he shifted his weight as if preparing to dive for cover. In his black-checked flannel and faded jeans, he looked like he could move fast. “Now, listen. Everyone just take a deep breath.” His badge gleamed at his belt.
I looked around for my boyfriend, but Aiden must still be working on one of the family floats with my cousins. So I took a deep breath and eyed my grandmothers.
Nana O’Shea stood petite and pale, all soft curls and Irish fire. Nonna Albertini was her opposite, tall and striking, dark hair pinned back, eyes flashing like polished brown marble. Gloria, tall and broad in her good spring dress with pink ribbons, glared at them both.
The crowd collectively held its breath, waiting for the fireworks.
Donna, my oldest sister, moved toward me from the other side of the crowd. She had the same elegant features as Nonna with deep brown eyes, strong cheekbones, and a natural grace that turned heads without her even trying. Her beauty was classic and calm. “What is happening?” she whispered.
“I have no idea,” I whispered back, not looking like either of my sisters with my brown hair and greenish-gray eyes. Tessa took after the Irish side, Donna the Italian, and me? Who knew? Shaking my head, my attention returned to the drama. “Where are our parents?”
“They’re still by the float, getting it ready for the parade. They have no idea this is going on.” Tessa’s voice was low.
I hesitated. “I’m not sure what to do.”
“Don’t do anything,” Tessa murmured. “Either Nana is going to issue a curse, or Nonna is going to get out her wooden spoon and start smacking people. Let’s stay here.”
