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Eileen speed walks to me and squeezes my arm. “Princess Charlotte, was it?”

“Yes, but my real name is Elle.”

She smiles. “Great. So, Elle, you’ve got to give us all the dirt about that stud.”

“Prince Charming?”

“No, I’m talking about that bald janitor over there and those pimpled guys queuing at the hot dog cart.” She rolls her eyes at me. “Of course, I mean Prince Charming. He’s as hot as a lasagna that’s been in the oven for an hour.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Hot lasagna, really?”

“Don’t give me that look,” she says. “Just because we’re old doesn’t mean we’re blind.”

Janine catches up with us and chimes in. “Have you been fortunate enough to taste his kisses?”

“What?” These ladies don’t know subtlety, that’s for sure.

Eileen tuts at her friend. “Maybe we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. What if she’s like you and she doesn’t fancy guys?”

“Please, I could cut the sexual tension between those two with my fabric scissors.”

I frown. “Really? But you only met us five minutes ago.”

Another knitting club member joins us. She’s wearing wide-rimmed glasses and a shirt with a skull on it. Her nails are all painted in different colors and she’s the only one with long hair that doesn’t have that blue shade. In short, not your typical grandma.

“Are we talking about these two young lovers?” she inquires.

“Why are you all so interested in my love life?”

The rainbow nail polish lady shrugs. “Because half of us have lost our partner. We want to live vicariously through you. Our bodies may have aged, but our…” She taps her chin, visibly mulling over the right word. “Our desires haven’t changed one bit. Right, ladies?”

“Oh, you bet,” Eileen says with a twinkle in her eye.

“Especially those of us who are single, but wish their ex-husband would leave this planet,” Kathleen comments.

I gasp. Wishing death upon her husband—albeit her former one—seems a bit harsh.

“Don’t act all dramatic,” she says. “It’s not like I’m going to kill him myself.”

My jaw drops to the floor. “You’re going to hire someone to do it?”

The four of them start laughing so hard that I’m afraid one of them will drop dead after all. Although… don’t they always say laughter is good for your body?

“As if I’d spend a dime on that man,” Kathleen says in between fits of laughter. “Oh, you’re a funny one, Elle.”

When she’s composed herself, she wipes the tears from her cheeks with a crisp white handkerchief and continues her story. “My ex-husband took me out to dinner for our twentieth anniversary. This was decades ago, but it still angers me to think about it. Anyway, he started talking about having a gift for me that we would both love. Of course, I thought he’d bought us an RV or perhaps a dog, even though he always had a strict no pets policy.”

I nod. “He bought you a cat instead?”

“Oh, way worse than that. He got himself a mail-order bride.”

“You’re joking, right?” I laugh.

She harrumphs, clueing me in on the fact that she’s being serious. “Sadly, no.”

“Wow, that’s unbelievably rude and disrespectful.”

“It gets worse,” Eileen says with a knowing nod of the head.