“Well, I’d have to be exceptionally hungry.”
“The rumors of a girlfriend, silly. I heard she’s from Nebraska, I heard she’s super tall, and I heard she sent your mom the sweetest text message, saying she was praying for your aunt. How is she, by the way. Any updates on the surgery? It’s today, right?”
“No word yet. They said it could take several hours. Back up a second. McKenna sent my mom a text message?”
“Is that her name? Funny. For some reason I had it in my mind her name was Wendy.”
The way news traveled in this town was almost scary. “She’s definitely not my girlfriend.”
“McKenna?”
“Wendy. Both. Anybody.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he could snuff them out like a candle. But Brenda had already picked up on the scent. Her pupils dilated like a cat rolling in catnip. “So you’re still single?”
“Well—”
“Wonderful. Because I have the perfect girl in mind for you. Great cook. You’ll never go hungry. Let me give you her number. I was thinking with the Dominoes Dance coming up next Saturday, what better opportunity than to—”
“Don’t listen to a word she’s saying, Nate Lambert.” Great. Another voice he knew. This one belonged to Eileen, another friend of his mom’s. She was the same height as Brenda, but double the girth. She paused next to the display of dill pickle–flavored popcorn long enough to drop a package into her basket, then scurried over to them waving an arm covered in beaded bracelets at Brenda. “She’s trying to set you up with her elderly cousin who’s been divorced four times.”
“Only because she hasn’t found the right guy yet. And what do you mean by elderly? She’s my age.”
“That’s what I mean by elderly. No way Nate’s dating someone in their early sixties.”
“Early fifties, thank you.”
“Mid, and that’s being generous. Now my niece on the other hand—”
“Who, Tori?” Brenda smacked Eileen on the shoulder with her cat sign. “You said she’s dating some slacker in Knoxville.”
“Sheisdating some slacker in Knoxville. Which is why I need Nate to sweep her off her feet so she’ll forget all about the slacker in Knoxville.”
“Nate,” another voice hollered as the door to the store jingled open. Lovely. Mrs. Zeigler. His former middle school principal. Apparently Marty’s Mercantile wastheplace to be this morning. “Glad I spotted you through the window,” she said, swaggering inside wearing a long flowery dress and a wide-brimmed straw hat. She tugged off her sunglasses. “Lottie says your momma’s bed and breakfast is in trouble. Is that true?”
“What?” Brenda squeezed Nate’s arm even tighter. “I hadn’t heard that. What’s wrong with The Happy Hiccup?”
“The B&B is fine,” Nate said.
“Good,” Mrs. Zeigler said, sounding relieved as she slipped her sunglasses onto her dress, making the front droop and reveal more cleavage than any man should see on their former middle schoolprincipal. “Now tell me what you know about the celebrity Georgie keeps grinning about.”
“Lottie says it’s the beekeeper,” said Eileen, popping a handful of popcorn into her mouth. Had she paid for that?
“Can’t be,” said Mrs. Zeigler. “The name starts with ane.”
“I thought it ended with ane,” said a guy Nate didn’t know holding two lightbulbs and a package of white socks. Those better not be the last of the ankle socks.
“Then why did I overhear Gus saying Jeff Goldblum might be coming to town?” said Eileen.
“Really?” Brenda’s grip was starting to cut off all feeling to Nate’s fingers. “I love him. He’s kooky. Will he be staying at the bed and breakfast?”
“Nobody is staying at the bed and breakfast,” said Nate.
“I thought I heard your girlfriend was staying at the bed and breakfast,” said Mrs. Zeigler.
“She’s not his girlfriend,” said Brenda, Eileen, and Lightbulb Man.
“So then why can’t Jeff stay there? I bet Nancy would let him stay at her Airbnb,” said Mrs. Zeigler.
