“You mean womb,” Keelie’s mother, Becca Turner, cajoles. “Oh, they’re going to be best friends, just like you and me, Miranda,” she’s quick to tell my mother.
Mom nods. “Just like Lottie and Keelie.”
It’s true, Keelie and I have been best friends since preschool, which is probably the reason her twin, Naomi, hates my guts. But as fate would have it, I’m related to them both. The woman I knew as their grandmother was my grandmother, too.
My birth mother, Carlotta, abandoned me on the floor of the Honey Hollow Fire Department right after my birth, and I was adopted by the sweet fireman who found me, Joseph Lemon, and his wife, the flirty blonde before me, Miranda.
Carlotta muscles her way to the front. “All right, Lot Lot, let’s hear it. What’s the big announcement? I’ve got to get my hair done-did. Evie invited me to the fundraising event tonight, and word on the scholastic street is there will be an entire herd of hunky male teachers looking to get educated in all the right subjects.” She hoists her chest out as if offering up subjects A and B.
I make a face. I happen to know Evie won’t be there tonight. It’s adults only at this highfalutin fundraiser. I bet inviting Carlotta was Evie’s way of getting her out of the house—more like the neighborhood.
“Oh!” Mom raises a hand. “Me too, Lottie. You’ll need to hurry. I’ll be there tonight as well, helping Wiley man the bar. The PTA says they like to get the patrons good and juiced up so that they’ll be more apt to pull out their wallets.”
“That’s right.” Wiley steps up next to her grinning from ear to ear, looking every bit like Noah in the process—as he should. Wiley is Noah’s father. “The drink of the night is called the Summer Blues Cure.”
Mom grins like a loon. “It’s designed to give you that back-to-school buzz.”
All words I pray she never says within earshot of Evie or anyone associated with Honey Hollow High.
My sister, Meg, threads her way to the front. Her hair looks freshly dyed a shade of stark black and her pale eyes look more than upset with me.
“Come on, Lot. I’ve got Lainey on the phone. She says she’s not coming near this cesspool of germs. And I’ve got to be at the Honey Hollow High gymnasium in a couple of hours. The PTA hired me to bring the entertainment—a few of my girls are manning the tables.”
“The what?” I give a quick blink. I happen to know that my sister works at a strip club, and if what she says is true, I’m rethinking my take on the event. Actually, Meg is a dance instructor down at Red Satin Gentlemen’s Club. She doesn’t actually do the dancing. And I much prefer her helping out at the Honey Pot Diner than being ogled by rogue drunks that are looking to cop a feel.
But before Meg can extrapolate, Suze Fox, Noah’s mother, growls.
“Let’s have it,” she barks. Suze is generally ornery. She has short blond hair that swoops low in the front, and she reminds me of an older, angry member of a boy band.
“All right,” I say, taking a deep breath as I make my way around the counter and hold out my hands as Noah takes up one and Everett takes up the other.
I nod to my stepsiblings and to my birth father, looking as if he’s about to fall asleep standing up, Mayor Harry Nash. I glance across the sea of faces to find Evie staring at her phone. That’s okay. I’m pretty sure I’ll have her undivided attention in about ten seconds.
I clear my throat. “The reason I’ve called you all here today is to tell you that—” A lump the size of a bassinet swells in my throat.
Noah gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “You can do this, Lottie. You have my full support. I’ll never leave you.”
Everett grunts. “A good restraining order could fix that,” he mutters under his breath. Everett lands a sweet kiss to my cheek. “I’m right here, Lemon. It’s going to be fine.”
I push out a hard breath. “Okay. About two weeks ago, Noah, Everett, and I discovered something rather serious, and we’ve had a hard time sitting on it ever since. We weren’t sure what the best way to do this would be, then I had the thought that maybe we should just gather you all here and blurt it out at once.”
“You’re making it official.” Carlotta slaps her hand down on the counter. “You’re Honey Hollow’s very first throuple.” She looks to the crowd. “I called it. Miranda, Becca, and Harry, you all owe me twenty bucks a pop.”
“What?” I hiss. “No! Carlotta, I can’t believe you were taking bets.”
Evie gives a lazy glance my way. “I’ve got a pool going, too.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s not that.” It’s probably not far from the truth, though. I clear my throat as I look at all of the faces I know and love. “I’m having a baby.”
Dead silence takes over. You could hear a cupcake drop.
Then in a burst, the entire room erupts in cheers before it, too, begins to die down rather quickly.
“Oh, Lottie!” Mom lunges for me with a firm embrace. “Congratulations!” She pulls back and looks to Noah and Everett as her glee begins to morph into confusion. “So? Who’s the father?”
My mouth falls open as I look to both Noah and Everett for a little assistance in this department.
“Yes!” Evie shouts with enthusiastic vigor. “I’m having a kid brother or sister, and my mom doesn’t have any idea who the daddy is. I’m going to be the talk of all Honey Hollow High.”
“I’m so sorry.” My chest bucks as tears blur my vision. I can’t help the tears. I cried peeling open the wax paper off the butter this morning. But then, butter is so great it probably warrants a few tears.
Evie inches back. “Don’t apologize. I’m the one who’s going to rev up the rumor mill about my dicey family before the semester even begins. I’m finally going to be the cool kid for a change.” She takes off while tapping furtively into her phone.
A flurry of congratulations come my way, and I can’t help but note there’s a hint of confusion in everyone’s eyes.
Carlotta grunts. “Don’t worry, Lot. If you don’t want the kid, I know a nice fire department where we can drop ’em off once you pump ’em out.”
Keelie wraps her arms around me. “Are you going to breastfeed?” Her eyes look wide with fear. An odd sort of congratulations, but then again, she is sleep-deprived.
I open my mouth to answer when Meg thrusts her phone my way.
“Of course, she’s going to breastfeed!” my sister, Lainey, chirps.
Meg chuckles. “I felt that one coming.”
It’s no secret Lainey has been nothing short of Mother Earth these last couple of weeks now that she’s had her sweet pink bundle of joy.
Carlotta gives a wistful shake of the head. “I would have breastfed for seven years if I could have.”
“Carlotta.” I look her way. “You didn’t keep me for seven minutes.”
Keelie flinches. “That’s exactly how long I nursed Bear. Don’t judge me, Lainey. But my nipples cracked and bled!”
“GAH!” No sooner do I cry out than Meg tosses the phone to Keelie.
Suze staggers forward, white as a ghost.
“Noah Corbin Fox,” she gravels out her oldest son’s name. “Don’t you dare do this to me.”
And so it begins.
Suze isn’t exactly my biggest fan.
Everett’s mother and sister pour out the congratulations, as do my stepsiblings, and before you know it, Lily offers everyone in the bakery a free sweet treat. It’s probably for the better. Everyone is looking a little stunned after my announcement. In fact, my stomach begins to churn, as it’s been doing on the regular ever since I found out the news myself.
The cinnamon-colored Pomeranian lets out a few sharp barks.
“Oh no!” I say. “Everett? Could either you or Noah help out with that cute little critter? The ladies who came for the apple crisps must have forgotten him.”
Everett gives a brief glance in the general direction I’m looking in. “What dog?”
My muscles freeze solid when he says those words.
“Noah?” I glance his way. “You see it, don’t you?” I ask as I point down at the tiny cutie pie dancing in a circle.
Noah squints in that direction. “Nope.”
The tiny pooch turns and winks my way before trotting right on out, by way of floating through the wall.
“I guess we know what this means,” I sigh as I say it. “I’m not just expecting a baby. I’m expecting a homicide.”
Chapter 2
It feels as if it’s been light years since I’ve last visited Honey Hollow High, let alone stood in the colossal gymnasium.
It’s funny how the glossy wood floors, the dull blue padding against the back wall, the hoops, the buzzer, and the grandstands all take me right back to the time I was a student here. Of course, I’d never want to go back to high school. No thanks to my ex, Bear Fisher, he turned up the volume on this teenage trauma.
But I can’t help but give a wistful smile as I look around at all the tables set out brimming with baskets and goodies for the silent auction. Pumpkins, fall leaves, bales of hay, and even a few scarecrows are scattered around the gym as if autumn itself were campaigning hard for our attention.
Off to the side, just past the dessert table, catered by yours truly, there’s a table laden with cakes of every shape and size that I’ve provided for the dessert dash they’ll host later tonight. There’s a carrot cake, a chocolate fudge fantasy, a red velvet, a black forest, and a vanilla filled with Bavarian cream, just to name a few that seem to have garnered a crowd around them. Brenda, the head of the PTA, mentioned that the dessert dash was a twist on a traditional cake walk when we spoke earlier this week.
There’s a taller table next to the desserts, covered with a black velvet cloth and has a single gilded birdcage sitting on top of it. And nestled in that birdcage is a sparkling emerald necklace. There’s a large lock securing the treasure inside, and in order to win the sparkling prize, all you need to do is purchase a key in hopes it’ll open up the lock. Only one key holds the ability to unlock the cage and garner the prize for the winner. I’ve already purchased ten sets of keys. Here’s hoping it’s me.
Although, I don’t feel so lucky these days. Death seems to be stalking me at every turn. Well, not me, but some unfortunate soul. And I have a very bad habit of stumbling upon that poor unfortunate soul once they’ve met their demise.
My hand magnetizes to my stomach, and I press my lips tight in an effort to hold back my emotions.
What kind of a mother am I going to make? I might be a darn good baker, but I seem to have a knack for tripping over corpses as well. I’m pretty sure that’s no way to raise a baby.
I try my hardest to focus on the room quickly flooding with people. Men and women in a wide age bracket swell into the gym like the tide, and soon the din of voices echoes throughout the room. A large blue banner is stretched over the concession area, and in white lettering it reads Welcome to the Honey Hollow High School Annual Fall Fundraiser! Open your hearts and your wallets to a brand new year!
Everett steps into my line of vision as he quickly strides this way. He’s donned a dark suit, navy tie, and that signature devilish look in his eyes. Already half the mothers here are panting after him in his wake—not to mention Principal Hickman. I’ve already caught her leering at him while he helped me set out my sweets. The way her mouth was openly watering, it was clear he was the dessert she was hungry for.
For a fleeting moment I hoped that it was Principal Hickman who owned and loved that ghostly Pomeranian pooch at some point in her life. I’m pretty sure that makes me a bad person.
I’m terrible is what I am.
Who wishes a homicide on someone? Even if that someone is openly ogling your husband. Everett is hotter than a kitchen fire. And honestly? Who the heck could blame her for noticing?
To the right of the welcome banner is an enormous picture of a honeybee, painted right onto the gymnasium wall. It’s the school mascot, Sting, and he looks just as happy and charming as I remember him to be.
Tears come to my eyes for seemingly no reason.
What if my baby hates school? What if he or she is a delinquent and never even makes it to Honey Hollow High? What if this is the very last time I see that goofy grin on Sting’s furry little face?
“Whoa.” Everett wraps his strong arms around me, and the thick scent of his spiced cologne fills my lungs with what feels like his love for me. “Hey?” He brushes the hair from my face. “Everything okay? Are you feeling sick? Do you need water? A cookie? Noah is still on his way. I can have him pick up a pizza from Mangias.”
“No, no.” A dull laugh evicts from me. “I just got to thinking about the baby.” My hand floats to my stomach once again, as it has been doing rather absentmindedly for the last two weeks. I thought for sure if my mouth didn’t give my secret away, my hand would have. I look up at his cobalt blue eyes. “Everett, what kind of a mother am I going to be? What if I’m just not genetically programmed to be a good mother? My own mother abandoned me on the cold floor of the local fire department. What if I get the urge to do the same?”
“Lemon,” he says it sternly, and that’s all that’s needed for my mind to take a U-turn.
“I’m sorry, Everett. I’ve been online every night this week looking up the negative side effects of pregnancy. Did you know I could be puking right up until delivery? What if my teeth fall out during the next few months? What if I keep tripping over corpses? What if I have to start wearing a diaper myself because I can’t control my bladder when I laugh? These are very real issues. Loads of women were complaining about them on just about every mommy message board I went on. Okay, fine. Maybe not the part about the corpses. But my hair is going to fall out! My boobs are going to grow so big they’ll be the size of bowling balls and feel just as hard after I give birth!”
The hint of a wicked grin curves on his face.
“Lemon,” my name comes out with equal parts sorrow and amusement this time as he takes up my hand and dashes us away to the back of the grandstands. “Come here.” He wraps his arms around me, and I mold myself against the firmness of his chest. “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”
I look up and give a wry smile. “I’m wearing a sweater and jeans. And sad newsflash: these jeans are getting tighter by the second. This might even be the very last time I wear these things again, as in ever. Although it’s not this little peanut’s fault. More like the half a cheesecake I wolfed down last night at midnight.”
A dull laugh thumps through him. “I was right there with you wolfing down the other half. And that’s exactly how we’re going to get through this—together.” He warms my arms with his hands. “Have I ever told you that the minute I saw you that first day we met outside of the courthouse, you took my breath away?”
I give a long blink. “Everett, I accidentally tripped us both and landed us into the bushes. You couldn’t breathe because you probably had the wind knocked out of you.”
He shakes his head. “No. I took one look at your hazel eyes, and I felt something that I’ve never felt before. To be truthful, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I was used to pretty girls, but you, Lemon, were stunning—and there was something more. When you looked at me, it felt as if I were being electrocuted straight to the heart.” He takes a deep breath, and his chest expands against mine. “At that moment, something inexplicable happened. I was falling in love with you—a woman who I didn’t even know, had never seen before. It was instant. It was terrifying. And that’s saying a lot coming from a man who isn’t afraid of anything.” Everett cups my cheeks in his hands and sighs as he looks at me with a tenderness I have never seen before. “And I wanted nothing more than to do this.”
Everett lands a sizzler of a kiss on my lips that forces me to take a quick breath as I wrap my arms around him tightly. A moan works its way up from my throat as Everett pours out all of his affection, all of his passion, directly into my mouth.
The sound of women’s voices rises from our left, and
they seem to be growing in an aggressive manner.
I pull back and wrinkle my nose at Everett as their angry voices intrude on our private party.
Everett gives a sly wink as he pulls us deeper underneath the bleachers just as the women’s voices hit their pinnacle. I can’t see their faces, but I can see their feet. One has on a pair of black wedges with gold buckles, and the other is wearing a pair of pink kitten heels.
“I don’t care what the hell you think you have on me. You don’t threaten me in my own house.” Pink Kitten Heels squirms in her shoes as she says it.
Gold Buckles takes a step back and scoffs. “When I’m through with you, not only won’t you be able to show your face in Honey Hollow, you’ll be looking to relocate from Vermont.”
“You wish.” Pink Kitten Heels takes a bold step forward, and it looks as if Gold Buckles just stumbled back.
I gasp at the thought we might be witnessing a physical altercation, and Everett tenses as if he were readying to leap into action.
“You pushed me!” Gold Buckles riots. “You will rue the day you ever thought to interfere in my life, let alone lay a hand on me.”
“Ha!” Pinky blasts a hearty laugh in the other woman’s face—I’m assuming it was her face. “You won’t be able to carry out your revenge. I’ll see to it myself.”
They stomp off, shaking the floor beneath our feet like an angry herd of bison as Everett leads us out from the bleachers and we’re met with a sea of bodies, ten times thicker than before.
“It’s too late,” I say. “I don’t know where they went.” A spray of pale blue stars twinkles by my feet, and I hop back just as that ghostly pooch materializes. “He’s back!” I squawk.
The little cinnamon-colored cutie looks up and barks.
“He is a she,” the adorable little thing says as she floats effortlessly toward me. “Now where exactly did she go?” The little cutie gives a quick look around. “Ah, yes.” And with that, she whisks off, quick as a lightning bolt, toward the concession stand.
Poison Apple Crisp Page 2
