“That sounds fun,” I said. “When is it?”

“I usually do them monthly. I’m right down the street from you. A few blocks down, so not too far. You can easily stumble back to your bed if you drink too much.”

“You’re in Ivy Woods?” Beth turned to me. Seeing the envy in other people’s eyes when they talked about Ivy Woods hadn’t gotten old yet.

“She’s right there on the cul-de-sac,” Maggie said.

“You’re so lucky! I just love it there. Beautiful houses, beautiful people. My friend Alice lives there, and she just adores it.”

“I know Alice,” I said.

“She’s a doll.” Beth directed one of those claws at me. “But don’t get on her bad side. She might seem like a pushover, but nope. She can be fierce when needed, especially if someone messes with her kids.”

“Really?” I tried to envision Alice telling someone off, but the image was comical. She seemed more like the type who avoided conflict at all costs—to a fault.

“Oh yeah,” Beth said. “Maggie, don’t you remember when that Connor kid was bullying Greta a few years ago? She marched right over to that kid’s house and chewed out the mom. And the mom got all defensive. It was a big thing. And then Kendra McCaul and all them got involved.”

Maggie smirked. “You don’t want the Ivy Hive on your bad side.” I remembered Georgeann mentioning that name at Adam’s welcome event.

Beth laughed. “Do they still call themselves that?”

“I think it’s five,” I said. “The Ivy Five.”

“Right, but there’s a reason there aren’t five of them anymore,” Maggie said mischievously.

A customer arrived before I could ask what that reason was.

“Oh my god. That. I’d forgotten,” I heard Beth say as she shifted behind the table now, dipping into her bag to sample the sweets. “I was in that mommy group with Bettina Price, remember? At the hospital. Sloane was born like two weeks before my Jenny.”

I tried to eavesdrop on their conversation, but my customer had a lot of annoying questions.

“How much are those?” She gestured at the pumpkin streusels.

Maggie said something I couldn’t hear, and Beth answered, “No! She wouldn’t even speak of her.”

“Fifty cents?” I guessed.

“Hmm. Did you make them?”

I shook my head as Maggie said, “She was too good-looking for them. It was a threat.”

“I honestly don’t know that I’d recognize her if she walked in here right now,” said Beth, walking over to a tray farther down that had caught her attention. My tarts. “But I remember when she had too many wine coolers during Casino Night and they had to call a taxi to send her home.”