Vickie was facing the window, but she watched Zoey out of the corner of her eye, looking for any hidden spark of chemistry at the mention of dating Mike. But there was nothing. Too bad. She would have liked to see two of her favorite people together, but you couldn’t force chemistry.

“And what about you? Are you ready for another match? Rick said there’s a very nice associate professor at the college this semester. I hear he’s a looker.”

“And Rick couldn’t get a date with him himself?”

“Apparently not.” Vickie chuckled. “But he thinks the man might be open to female companionship.”

Zoey hesitated. “I don’t think so. Not yet, anyway. I made a vow to Hazel that this year would be about her needs. And...lay off Mike for a while, okay?”

Vickie held up her hands in surrender. She couldn’t help wondering why Zoey was saying this instead of Mike, but maybe he’d asked her to.

“I’ll tell the book club when we meet. If he’s not ready, he’s not ready.”

Zoey looked at her phone and turned. “I gotta run. There’s a washing machine in Penn Yan that needs my healing hands, and I have two vacuum cleaners at the shop to repair this afternoon. Thanks for recommending me to Jack Nelson, by the way. He was skeptical at first, but I think I won him over.”

“I’m glad. Jack’s a little crusty, but he’s a good guy. He and his wife help me out once in a while.”

“Help you with what? You know you can always call me if you need help.”

“The Nelsons have been helping me for years, honey. If they can’t help, I hire someone.” She looked out at the crushed corner of the deck. She needed to call Gordon and put a fire under his ass. Again. “Although some hires are more reliable than others.”

MIKE STARED ACROSS his desk at his two o’clock appointment. Who was also his grandmother. God save him from all the meddling old ladies in his life.

“Nana, why are you really here? We just redid your will last summer, and nothing has changed that I’m aware of.”

Maura McKinnon’s eyes narrowed on him. “What’s changed, Michael, is that I apparently need to make an appointment if I want to see my grandson these days. How are you?”

He sat back in his chair. “I work at the pub every Friday night, Nana.”

The Purple Shamrock was originally owned by Mike’s great-grandfather, then Nana’s husband took it on, and then her son, Patrick. And now Patrick’s daughter, Bridget, and her husband Finn were running the place.

“And is your poor old grandmother supposed to go to the pub to see her grandson?”