Clobbered by Camembert by Avery Aames

Girls had thrown themselves at him, but he had sneaked off with me—his science lab partner—in his Mustang. Talk about chemistry! The next day we went for a hayride, with church bells clanging in the background. He said there was nothing more fun in life, and at the time, he had been right.
    “Remember?” he repeated.
    Oh, yeah, I remembered. He was my first kiss. We had necked for two hours. I wondered if Rebecca was enjoying her first kiss right about now.
    “Time flies, doesn’t it?” Chip glanced at his watch. “Speaking of time, I’m off to the Village Green to watch the ice sculpting. Want to join me?”
    “I’ll pass.”
    “You don’t know what you’re missing.”
    But I do. I did. I had. I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
    He strutted out the front door and stopped in the foyer to give my pets a good nuzzle—the traitors yipped and purred their delight—then Chip exited and jogged down the steps laughing.
    As his laughter faded, Lois said, “Have you heard about Kaitlyn Clydesdale’s plans to start a new honeybee farm?”
    Was that why she’d asked me in for tea? To ply me for gossip? I said, “Only rumors.”
    “Well, it’s a shame, you ask me. That sweet Ipo Ho and his Quail Ridge Honeybee Farm won’t be able to compete.”
    “Why not?”
    “First off, Kaitlyn will update everything. Then she’ll produce twice as much honey at half the price. I’ve heard that’s what she does.”
    Not following, I said, “She owns other honeybee farms?”
    “And cattle farms, goat farms, wineries, and more.” Lois bobbed her head in rhythm. “I overheard her talking when she was staying here. She loves to update everything. She hates to let things remain behind the times.”
    “Kaitlyn was a guest here?”
    “For one night. She moved to Violet’s across town. Good riddance.” Lois swatted the air.
    Violet’s Victoriana Inn was Lois’s competition, and Lois was quite vocal about not liking Violet’s sense of style. The inn was less homey than Lavender and Lace and a heap more expensive, although it did have a number of perks. Violet had hired a full-time masseuse and hairdresser. From what I could tell, Violet’s place was more Kaitlyn Clydesdale’s style—brash and aloof.
    Lois clucked her tongue. “She’s not to be trusted.”
    “Violet?”
    “Kaitlyn Clydesdale. Mark my words. I knew her years ago. She’ll eat up this town.” Lois looked at least five years older than Kaitlyn. Had their age difference colored her view? “She was a terror as a girl. Willful.”
    I knew a lot of willful people, but that didn’t make any of them a terror.
    “Willful,” Lois repeated, and left it at that.
    * * *
    The sugary aroma of freshly made toffee in the Igloo Ice Cream Parlor snaked its way up the stairways, beneath the doors, and into the brightly lit yoga studio where my girlfriends and I were attending class. My stomach grumbled like a volcano. Sitting in the butterfly pose invariably made me hungry—don’t ask me why. My pal Freckles, a button of a woman dressed in neon orange workout clothes, giggled at the noise. Meredith, Delilah, and Jacky joined in. I hushed them all with a glare. Freckles stuck out her tongue.
    “Real mature,” I whispered.
    “Lie flat on your mats,” the stick-thin yoga instructor said.
    All of us un-pretzled our bodies and obeyed.
    “Hands beneath your buttocks and lift your right leg. Inhale up, exhale down. Now, the left leg. Inhale up . . .”
    I breathed out my earlier frustration with Chip, and focused on Jordan’s winning smile and gentle hands and delicious kisses. I wondered if he would be free later. Would it be too brazen if I called?
    “Plow pose. Raise your hips over your head. Touch your toes to the ground.”
    Jacky, Jordan’s darkly elegant sister who glowed with new mommy joy even though, for the first time in her life, she was battling tummy bulge, only made it halfway in the plow pose. She moaned with frustration and tried