ANDOVER — The youngest of 11 children, Tricia Mills knows what it’s like to sit at a large table – just as her great-grandfather did when he started a tradition that continues today. The Liar’s Table at the back of Andover’s Mill’s Market has been a place for honest conversation, and occasional tall tales, for over a century.

“The name isn’t meant negatively,” Mills explains. “It’s just a joke about storytelling. All the guys – they solve the world’s problems here.”

Two shifts of five to 10 regulars gather around the large, rectangular table each morning: the 6 a.m. group and the 9 a.m. group, mostly men. Mike Clement, a 9 a.m. regular, swaps places with his wife, Sandra Clement, and the other women who arrive at 10 a.m. on Wednesdays. “You can’t argue with those ladies,” says Chris Fagan. “When they want the table, you give it to them.”

On this particular day, one of the eight regulars greets a newcomer with a friendly, “Welcome to the Table.”

Steve Hall, 87, recalls the Liar’s Bench that came before the current table. “I lived next door,” says Hall. “As a kid, I’d go to the store, and they’d fill me full of baloney. It’s a long tradition.” He remembers the older men who sat at the bench, many without cars, walking five miles into town every day. “Every now and then, a brave woman would come and parry with them,” he adds. Today, that brave woman is Trudy Akers, who sits down with the men.

Hall left Andover for 40 years, but when he returned, “It was the same as when I left.”

The men say they talk about anything and everything – though hunting, fishing, town affairs, and gossip top the list. “I’ve been here for five years, and I’m still trying to figure out where all the secret gold panning spots are,” says Chris Fagan.

The women, too, have their share of stories. Barbara Simmons entertains the group with a tale about her cat, Lucky. “One day I walked by the bathroom and saw her butt sticking out of the toilet. Now, the lid stays down,” she said without a hint of dishonesty.

The women, who once met at three different spots around town, now gather at Mills’ Market every Wednesday. The table grows when families are visiting.

Sandra Clement leans in and says, “See that lady right there? She’s the sweetest thing. Always happy, and she can’t do enough for you.” The others agree. “That’s Becca,” Clement adds.

Mills says running the market takes a deep love for the town. “People come here to grieve together. We have empty spots at the table for those who have come and gone. It’s about celebrating community and friendship.”

In addition to the market, Mills owns the town’s only gas station and a building between the market and gas station, once a general store. She plans to reopen part of it as a restaurant annex and add a canopy over the gas station.

As for the Liar’s Table, Mills says, “It’s about being a friend to your neighbor.” Though she usually rushes past while working, she enjoys sitting down with the men.

“It’s not that they’re lying,” she says with a smile, “but they probably are.”