the bestie.”
Lola grimaced.
“It isn’t always the best friend,” Mims grumbled, tugging down her neon-yellow sweatshirt, which had a perfect pink cupcake on the front. She was frowning and swinging her purse as if warming up to swing it at someone’s head.
Someone who’d ruined the bake sale fund-raiser?
Lola kept her distance.
“It’s not always a friend,” Bitsy said with a faraway look in her eye.
“Sometimes it’s the town floozy.” Clarice leaned on her cane, gray braids hanging down on either side.
Lola didn’t know who the town floozy was, but it wasn’t Avery. She was picky about whom she dated. “I’m sorry about ruining your cupcake recipe,” Lola said to Bitsy, staring at the older woman’s mouth to see whether her teeth were finally clean.
Her lips were sealed.
Darn. “And I apologize for causing a scene. I didn’t mean for it to get so…so…”
“Physical? Dangerous? Deadly?” Gary returned Lola’s purse. His chin jutted, as if he was unhappy Lola had been released without charges being filed.
“Gary,” Drew warned from too close behind Lola.
Lola resisted the urge to turn around, resisted the craving to log Drew’s expression and give it context, like Interested or Just being kind.
“These things happen sometimes.” Bitsy smiled.
And there it was. The chocolate-covered tooth.
Lola gasped. Now was her time to make amends. “Bitsy—”
“We probably should have known.” Clarice cut Lola off. “If it happened to anyone, it would happen to you.”
“Clarice,” Bitsy said. For whatever reason, she always stuck up for Lola. She deserved a save in return.
“Bitsy!” Lola practically shouted before anyone else interrupted. “You have…something in your teeth.” She didn’t say cupcake. After all, it could have been fudge.
Bitsy delicately covered her lips with her fingers.
“Let me see.” Edith moved into Bitsy’s grill, acting as a mirror and rubbing her own tooth. “Golly, yes. This one. I can’t believe none of us saw that.”
Lola wanted to disappear. There was no way that had been fudge.
Mims stood near the door, frowning Lola’s way. Lola wouldn’t be surprised if her invitation to join the Widows Club was rescinded. But she was surprised to realize she’d be disappointed if it was.
Despite everything, Lola was still golden in Edith’s eyes, perhaps because the older woman was an outcast among the widows as well. She returned to Lola’s side. “What are you going to do about Avery?”
“Nothing,” Drew said at the same time as Mims.
“How are you going to make her pay?” Edith added, ignoring the pair.
“She’s not,” Drew and Mims said as a unit.
“I’m not,” Lola agreed. She felt defeated, as unsteady on her feet as Randy and Candy would be when she pulled their plugs.
“Ladies.” Drew took Lola by the arm and led her to the door, smelling of Rosie, whatever that meant. “Lola wants to walk home. She needs time to herself.”
“Walk home?” Edith hurried around them to the door. “Nonsense. She’s one of us. We’ll drive her.”
“I’ve got a plastic drop cloth in the back of my van.” Despite Clarice’s dig about the inevitability of Lola wreaking havoc, she hurried forward, thunking her walking stick on the floor with authority. “She can sit on it as long as she sits still.”
Lola didn’t want to be crowded into the back seat of a minivan. She wanted space and the freedom outside a jail cell. But mostly, she wanted to have friends she trusted and somebody to love.
Frosting smooshed inside her pumps.
And yes, she wanted to be clean.
“I can walk,” Lola said, not wanting to be a bother.
“You shouldn’t be alone just yet,” Mims said in a much gentler voice than Lola had expected given the events of the evening.
Edith put her small hands on Lola’s back and guided her out the door. “That’s our cue to leave.”
Lola climbed into the middle seat of Clarice’s van, sitting on the thin plastic drop cloth. She brushed her black pumps free of white frosting and palmed a quarter from the floor, planning to hand it to Clarice when she got out, assuming it was hers.
Clarice took off with a squeal of tires and an illegal U-turn. Off-road, she may have been an environmentalist and a lover of her fellow man. But on the road, the old woman was a menace.
“About this thing with Avery.” Mims patted Lola’s thigh. “You are not a victim.”
Lola hadn’t been thinking she was, but if the necklace fit…
“Someone told me you used to do hair and makeup on Broadway.” Edith ignored Mims. “What shows did you work on?”
“The most well-known show I did was Chicago.” Those days seemed a