a royal blue knit ensemble that might have been Armani. She had all the élan of a movie star at the Oscars, and her arrival seemed to signal the beginning of the meeting. The book club members took seats around one of the tables. Almost half of them, not including Molly the yarn whisperer or Hettie the fashion plate, had brought knitting projects with them.
The meeting was called to order by Nita Wills, the librarian. “So, what did y’all think about our book this time?” she asked.
The silence was so deep that Savannah could hear the clicking of knitting needles. Nita didn’t look pleased. “Did any of y’all read it?”
“I did,” Jenny whispered, a blush rising to her face.
“And?”
“Well, I thought it was sad.”
“All the books we read are sad,” Cathy grumbled.
“But what about—”
“Cathy and Jenny are right, you know,” Molly interrupted. “Every book you choose is a complete bummer. I read most of this one, and to be honest, I hated the hero. He was pathetic. I mean, how many times is he going to talk himself out of doing something about his situation? He could have had love and freedom and a good life. All he had to do was quit his job. The fact that he ultimately dies at the end is only what he deserved for being such a wimp.”
“I never got all the way through it,” Arlene said. “I kept falling asleep when the hero would start talking to himself.”
“Didn’t any of you get the theme?” Nita asked.
“You mean that losers always lose?” Molly asked.
Nita glowered. “No. The book is a statement on how big corporations grind the average man into a fine pulp.”
Arlene cleared her throat. “Right, and that message is so uplifting.”
“It’s not supposed to uplift. It’s supposed to be a warning. Just look at what corporations are doing to our culture. Have you watched any reality TV lately?” Nita said.
Arlene met Nita’s stare without a blink. “Nita, honey, you need to get a life. Have you even watched Real Housewives? It’s entertaining.”
“No, I haven’t watched that show,” Nita said. “You realize it’s not really reality. And this book we’ve just read is a social commentary on that.”
“Right,” Cathy said, “but could we, for once, read a book without any social commentary in it? Could we maybe read a romance. I’m a particular fan of June Moring.”
“Oh, my God, yes,” Arlene said. “Did you read Destiny? I swear that pirate made my heart sing. I just love her heroes.”
“Ladies, this is a literary book club. We don’t read romance here.” Nita glared at the women around the table.
“But couldn’t we just once?” Cathy asked in a small voice.
A muscle ticked along Nita’s jaw, and Savannah worried that she might be about to stroke out. In fact, aside from the color of her skin, Nita looked exactly like Savannah’s ex-mother-in-law when Claire was about to blow a fuse. And when Claire blew, you didn’t want to be in the same room.
So Savannah stepped right into the breach. The way she always did when Claire looked like she was ready to explode. “Uh, I know I’m a guest here, but couldn’t you read a literary romance? You know, like Pride and Prejudice or something?”
Everyone turned to look at her. And then they turned to look at Nita. It was sort of like being at a tennis match, only with knitting needles and no rackets or balls. Savannah’s palms began to sweat, the same way they always did when she found the gumption to stand up to Claire. Only this wasn’t Claire. Nita was the local librarian, and while she was clearly the leader of the book club, she seemed like a pretty reasonable person. Way more reasonable than Claire had ever been.
Nita smiled. “Thanks for that suggestion, Savannah, but I’m sure everyone has already read that book.”
“I haven’t,” Savannah blurted. “Of course, I have seen every version of the movie. I think the BBC television series is the best one.”
“Oh, I completely agree with you there,” Rocky said. “Colin Firth is the best Darcy, bar none.”
“You’re only saying that because your husband looks and sounds like Colin Firth,” Cathy commented.
“Am not. Hugh is nothing like Colin Firth.”
“Much,” Arlene said, batting her mascara-laden eyelashes.
Nita looked down her nose at Savannah. “You really haven’t read Pride and Prejudice?”
“Well, don’t get up on your high horse, Nita,” Molly said, “I haven’t read it either.”