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drawn up. Now all I have to do is write the book.”
    The very thought of it sent a thrill of excitement racing through her. It was accompanied by sheer terror. She hadn’t any idea if she could pull it off.
    â€œWhat sort of book will this be?” Helen wanted to know. “Will it be a romance? Will it be a sort of cookbook? I once knew a woman who wrote recipes in her diary.”
    Maggie thought about it for a moment. “I don’t recall any recipes. My Aunt Kitty was a working woman. This will be primarily a chronology of her life and her business.”
    â€œA business woman,” Harry Mallone said, “that sounds interesting. What kind of business?”
    Maggie smiled and looked Harry straight in the eye. “Aunt Kitty was a madam.”
    Silence.
    â€œAnyone want a cheeseball?” Elsie said, entering the room. “What’s everyone so quiet about? You look like you just swallowed your tongue. What’s the matter, don’t you like cheeseballs? I made them myself. Got the recipe from one of them gourmet magazines.”
    Hank sent Maggie a tightlipped smile. “Could I see you in the kitchen for a minute, Muffin.”
    â€œI thought I was Cupcake.”
    He jerked his thumb in the general direction of the kitchen and made a vague sound in the back of his throat. When they were behindclosed doors, he smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand.
    â€œWhy me? What did I do to deserve this? All those women in New Jersey and I have to get one that’s writing a porno story!”
    Maggie stuffed her hands onto her hips and glared at him. “It’s not a porno story.”
    â€œHoney, you’re writing a book about a flesh peddler!”
    â€œI’m writing a book about a woman who played a role in an immigrant community. She raised a child, bought one of the first refrigerators, turned her carriage house into a garage, and lived to see the Beatles on television.”
    â€œAre you telling me there’s no sex in this book?”
    â€œOf course there’s going to be sex in it, but it’s going to be of a historical nature. It’s going to be high-quality sex.”
    â€œThat’s it. That’s the ball game. That’s the whole ball of wax. I’ll never get the loan. The bank won’t care how good the harvest is. I knew you were trouble from the minute I laid eyes on you.”
    â€œOh yeah, well if I was so much trouble, why did you hire me?”
    â€œIt was you or nothing. You were the only one to apply.”
    They were standing toe-to-toe, nose-to-nose, hands on hips, shouting at each other.
    â€œFine. I’ll un-apply. How do you like that? You can go find yourself a new wife.”
    â€œThe hell I will. You made a deal and you’re going to keep it.”
    He grabbed her by the shoulders and hauled her hard against him and kissed her.
    Elsie barged through the swinging kitchen door. “What the devil’s going on in here? You can hear the two of you shouting all the way to the living room.”
    She pulled up short and shook her head. “First you’re yelling at each other like it’s the end of the world, and now you’re steaming up the kitchen. This arrangement isn’t going to get weird, is it? I’m an old lady. I’ve got standards.”
    She went to the stove and lifted the lid on the cast-iron kettle. “This pot roast is going to be on the table in fifteen minutes, so you better hurry up and eat your fill of cheeseballs. And if you ask me, it wouldn’t hurt to give those people in there something to drink. They look like they’ve been left in the starch too long.”
    Elsie was true to her word. In fifteen minutesthe pot roast was on the table, along with homemade buttermilk biscuits, mashed potatoes, cooked carrots, homemade applesauce, and steamed broccoli. She set a bowl of gravy on the table and took her apron off.
    â€œThere’s a TV show coming