Page 45 of Keeping Secrets

Across the circle, a young woman made a sound of frustration. “Not this again.”

“What now?” he asked irritably.

“Sometimes a dog is just a dog.”

“Novels are deeper than that! Things have meaning!”

“Or they’re plot devices. They move things forward or support character development. It’s not all symbolism. Not everything had to mean something else!”

“You’re just bitter about the door in the haunted mansion back in December.”

“Sometimes a door is just a door, Craig!”

Keely laughed and tuned out as they argued about another book club book that she hadn’t read. She looked down at the copy of this week’s book that she held in her lap, enjoying the discussion but feeling too shy to say anything herself. It was enough just to be there, surrounded by people talking about her latest read. It was enough to feel a part of things. More than that, to feel a part of something wholesome and healing.

“Can we get back to Big Island Sunrise?” Ali asked at last.

“Yes, please!” someone else put in. “We’re sick of hearing the same argument.”

“It’s not just a door,” Craig muttered under his breath.

"Okay," one of the younger women said over him, "is anyone else madly in love with Alfred Lord Tennyson Nakamura?"

"Me!" shouted someone on the other side of the circle. There was a wave of laughter as nearly every hand shot up—basically all of the women and one of the men as well.

"Oh my goodness, he is my favorite book boyfriend ever."

"Zero red flags," another woman said.

"Wasn’t that refreshing? It was amazing to have a male lead that was so wholesome and trustworthy."

"Too bad those men only exist in books."

"Hey! That’s not true. I found one in real life."

"Well, you’re one of the lucky ones."

"I’m just saying, they do exist."

The conversation wandered through the book they had just read and its tropical setting to books that they had read in the past and the one that was scheduled for the following week. Finally, when people were on their feet and chatting about local gossip instead of books, Keely slipped out and walked home.

Her phone had been on silent through the book club meeting, and when she stepped outside and turned it back on, she was surprised to find a text message from Sunday asking her to call.

A heavy dread dropped into her gut, and she felt certain that Sunday had decided to go with a professional caterer instead. She took a shaky breath and called her back.

"Keely!" Sunday’s voice was as bright and musical as ever. "How are you?"

"I’m fine, thank you. How are you?”

“I am well, I am well. Keely, I am calling because Guillermo had a request for the event this weekend.”

“Yes?”

“He recalled that his mother’s favorite dessert growing up was lemon meringue pie.”

“Gotcha. So you want me to make that for the event?”

“Not exactly. He does not want a pie, but rather something that can be served to each person. And he specifically said that it should not be tiny pies, but rather something you would see in a fine dining restaurant. It is difficult for his mother to leave the house, you see, and I think he is wanting to bring the fine dining experience to her and the family. What do you think?”

---