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wife.” She gestured to the group of heaving bosoms behind her. “And these are leaders of our church’s youth group. We will not have our impressionable youth sporting such … such indecent apparel.”
    Willy remained nonplussed. “Indecent? It covers up everything, now don’t it?”
    Several onlookers chuckled. Mrs. Emerson ground her teeth until James thought they might crack.
    “Don’t you mock me, sir! I have influence in these parts and I will make it my duty to make sure that no decent folk come here until you agree to remove those offensive shirts from our sight. And!” she proclaimed as if she, and not the Reverend Emerson, were accustomed to giving the sermons, “I want you to give the money back to those innocent boys who have already purchased those filthy rags from you.”
    “They’re not dirty, ma’am. They’re fresh out of the box,” Willy teased and the crowd cheered him. The customers were clearly on his side.
    Mrs. Emerson reddened. “This is not the last you’ll see of us. We’re going to get those shirts gone and this I swear to you!”
    “Well, at least have some ice cream before you go!” Willy called after the huffy women, and even though he continued to serve out cups and cones in a jolly manner, his eyes betrayed a hint of worry.
    Outside, Murphy was busy interviewing Mrs. Emerson and her crowd. She then took a photograph of a teenage boy proudly wearing one of the controversial T-shirts.
    “I’ll be damned if I’m gonna get rid of it!” the boy shouted, eyeing Mrs. Emerson and her posse. “It’s not like it’s got swear words on it or Satanic symbols or anything. Those biddies need to lighten up.”
    “See the disrespect that kind of garment produces?” Mrs. Emerson shrieked and several members of the crowd nodded their heads in agreement. Murphy scribbled wildly on her notepad as the teenager strutted proudly up and down the parking area. Within minutes, two of his friends were in line in order to purchase T-shirts for themselves.
    James strolled over to where Murphy was standing. “Poor Willy. This makes three threats on his new business and all from women,” he muttered and then scooped custard into his mouth.
    Murphy’s eyes widened. “Who else threatened him?”
    James instantly regretted mentioning anything to the reporter so he quickly regaled her with the barest of details regarding how Savannah Lowndes had tried to pick a fight with Willy and how Veronica Levitt wanted to sweet talk his clients away from him.
    “It’s hard to be a newcomer in this town,” Murphy said, surprising James with what sounded like heartfelt sympathy. “A lot of folks here aren’t comfortable with change.”
    “Can’t say I blame them,” James answered, thinking back to how he hadn’t wanted to move back home. “Unless it’s the kind of change that brings people like Willy to our town. We could all use more of his kind of jauntiness and optimism.”
    “Isn’t that the truth? You’re all right, James Henry.” Murphy suddenly stood on her tiptoes and kissed James on the cheek. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow to see how Witness to Fitness went.”
    As a stunned James pivoted to watch the reporter walk away, his hand touching the spot on his cheek where Murphy had brushed his skin with her sticky, custard-covered lips, he found himself facing an angry glare from Lucy Hanover. He offered a feeble wave, but she pretended not to have seen him and disappeared inside the Polar Pagoda.
    James finished his dessert while debating whether or not to explain to Lucy that he and Murphy weren’t an item, but he didn’t see much point in doing so. On the other hand, the anger and hurt in Lucy’s eyes made it clear to James that she still had feelings for him. Warmed by this thought and the giant bowl of custard filling his stomach, James was just about to pursue Lucy inside. He would ask her out for coffee and finally come clean as to why he had succumbed to his fears and