Pumpkin Pie Parting

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Pumpkin Pie Parting Page 5

by Addison Moore


  A wave of emotion pulses through me.

  I couldn’t be.

  Could I?

  “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

  There are so many tests here, I doubt Lainey would notice if one were missing.

  I quickly do the deed as per the instructions and set the small plastic stick behind a tiny pumpkin on the sink that she has set out as a decoration.

  I’ll be back in a bit to check on it. Every muscle in my body trembles at what the results might be.

  Lainey and I bake our hearts out. We talk about everything under the sun, about Meg, our mother—about Cormack. Yes, I told her about Topper. How could I not?

  “She is such a skank!” Lainey wields her whisk like a weapon. “Poor Noah. It makes me feel as if she were merely using him that whole time she pretended to be obsessed with him. I mean, if you can’t remain faithful while the man you’re in love with is in the hospital, you have a real problem. Except for you, Lot. It would be totally understandable of you to fly into Everett’s arms for comfort. Meg told me he was spending the night.”

  I gasp.

  It’s true. Everett has been spending the night ever since the day of the accident.

  “We haven’t done anything, you know, physical.” My lips press tight as if maybe I were omitting the truth. “He’s simply comforting me. It’s nice. He makes me breakfast while I shower in the morning. I’m afraid he’s spoiling me.”

  “Ah-huh.” She glances at me briefly while gathering the used bowls and measuring cups from the island. “And I suppose it’s nice waking up in those strong legal eagle arms in the morning, isn’t it?”

  I choke on my response. “Why are you judging me?”

  “I knew it!” She breaks out into hysterics. “You’re sleeping in the same bed!”

  “Lainey”—I try to swat her with a dishtowel, but she’s too far for me to properly dole out the punishment—“Everett happens to have a trick back. He can’t sleep on the couch and the bed in the guestroom is a twin. His legs would fall off the sides. Besides, he’s no stranger to my bed. And before you imply anything, I was telling the truth. We’re keeping it G. Noah is our priority. Everett is very respectful of our marriage.”

  Lainey chortles up a storm. “He sure has a funny way of showing it. I bet he’s having fun playing house.” She trots off. “Hang on. I have something for you. I’ll be right back.”

  Thoughts of Everett run through my mind so I text him.

  At Lainey’s. Just finished up teaching her how to bake pies. I’m bringing a warm one home for you.

  He texts right back. Can’t wait. I’ll head over to your place and feed Pancake and Waffles. I picked up our favorites from Wicked Wok.

  My heart melts at the thought of Everett volunteering to feed my sweet cats. And for the record, he’s indulged me with Chinese food nearly every single night since Noah’s accident. Everett is a keeper for sure. Noah is a keeper, too, thus the pickle I’ve landed myself in. Everett and I would have a wonderful life. I bet our kids would all have his cobalt blue eyes. Noah would be a great father for sure. Not to mention our sweet little kidlettes would probably get his bright green eyes and dimples. Yes, Noah would make a great father.

  I stop short.

  A father! Oh my God. I forgot all about that test.

  Lainey comes back, waving something at me. It looks like a small white vial.

  “What is that?” For a moment my heart thumps wildly thinking she found the test I was hiding in her bathroom, but it’s a clear glass test tube of some kind filled with pink sand.

  “It’s for you. A woman at the library is all into warding off evil spirits, so I told her about your bad luck and she brought this in today. It’s a vial of salt from the Baltic Sea. She says you have to sleep with it under your pillow to scare off all the dead bodies you keep magnetizing to.”

  “Lainey,” I say her name curt enough for her to realize I’m not buying it. “First, you can’t scare off a dead body. It simply doesn’t work that way. Second, I suggest you take this and put it in your spice rack to help ward off all that bad luck you’ve been having in the kitchen. You are in charge of baking the pies for the Donovan family Thanksgiving, remember?” I tease as I dash off to the restroom again.

  “You’re not funny.”

  “I get that from you,” I shout back.

  No sooner do I lock the door to the bathroom than I pull out that stick from behind the pumpkin and freeze.

  There it is. A giant plus sign stares back at me with the word pregnant printed right beneath it, plain as day.

  “Holy stars above Honey Hollow.”

  I’m having Noah’s baby.

  Chapter 6

  Several days whiz by in a blur, and I find myself bumbling through life.

  Noah has yet to make an appearance since the night of the murder.

  Everett, thankfully, has been a prince, taking me to the hospital each night to visit with Noah, holding me tight, whispering that Noah will be just fine, that he could feel it in his bones. And strangely enough, I do believe Everett right down to his very wise bones. Everett dabbles in the truth for a living. Somehow, I think I’m at the bottom of the list of people he’d lie to. And that’s exactly why I’ve decided that I can’t lie to him either. At the end of this day, I’m going to let him in on my little maternal secret.

  The Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery is filling up with an unusually high volume of women of a certain demographic this afternoon.

  “Lily,” I whisper. “What’s happening?” Honestly, I haven’t slept two winks in three days, and I’m far too exhausted to put this or any other mystery to bed.

  God—the killer! Trisha’s killer is still out there somewhere, and if I don’t get on the scent quickly, I’m liable to lose this one. I haven’t let a killer get away yet. And, personally, I don’t want to ruin my streak.

  “It’s the naughty book club.” She shakes her head. “Keelie asked yesterday if it was all right to host it here and you said, ‘yeah, sure.’”

  My fingers fly to my lips. “I don’t remember that.” My God, what else don’t I remember? That pregnancy brain fog I read about must be real, and it must be hitting me hard already.

  As soon as I left Lainey’s house, I came home and cuddled up with Pancake and Waffles and googled any and everything I could find out about this condition Noah gifted me—and, he had better not have given it to me as a parting gift.

  Noah had better fight with everything he’s got to pull through. As much as I’d love to start a family, the thought of going it alone absolutely terrifies me.

  And my goodness, Noah. What am I going to say? Am I really going to confess to him in his disembodied state that he’s about to become a father? If Cormack’s driving didn’t kill him, then this might just finish him off. He’ll feel terrible if he doesn’t survive. Instead of enjoying paradise, he’ll be tormented forever.

  No, I can’t tell Noah. Not yet anyway. I need to get my head about me.

  “Lottie?” Keelie shakes me by the shoulders, and I’m startled to see her standing before me. “Lottie Lemon, is anyone home?” She waves a hand before my face, and I blink back to life.

  Lily is already serving up coffee to the masses, and the entire café is overrun with Naomi’s naughty book club. All of the usual cohorts are here, and I spot both Mom and Carlotta seated in the corner. Mom has her laptop out and an entire mess of legal pads surrounding her while Carlotta is fully facing Naomi’s coital crew.

  “Lottie, can I get you some coffee?” Keelie fans me with her apron.

  “Coffee? No, no coffee.” Coffee is a no-no for those in a delicate condition such as mine, and my decaf has a reputation for giving even the most sensitive to caffeine the jitters. I’m not risking it. Nothing can happen to Noah’s baby—my baby, our baby.

  My hand rises instinctively to my stomach and Keelie glances down.

  “Do you have a stomachache?”

  “No.” I gasp because the alt
ernatives are slim. “I mean, yes. Everett brought home a bag from the Wicked Wok again. I think the Kung Pao chicken was a bit too spicy.”

  She flexes a wry smile. “Don’t worry, Lot. I’ll help Lily with the book club. You just go sit out there and enjoy. We still have a few minutes. Why don’t you take a break and eat something? I hear the pumpkin pie is to die for.” She gives a little wink before taking off to help the masses that are eager to break down the salacious contents of the book at hand.

  The bell chimes and an entire army of women in yoga pants and ponytails wander on in.

  Lily speeds over and groans, “Worlds are colliding, Lottie. Can we fit the Swift Cycle class and the naughty book club in here all at once?”

  “I think we’re about to find out.”

  I help Lily fill all the orders, and sure enough once the sweaty Bettys figure out what Naomi’s naughty girls are up to, they take note—and they take a seat. It looks as if Naomi just expanded her literary reach in a sweaty single bound.

  Finally, both Britney and Cormack file in still wearing their spandex finery, both with their hair up in the requisite ponytail.

  Both women are blondes and both women once had intimate relations with Noah.

  “Lila.” Britney’s cherry red lips flicker in lieu of a smile.

  “Louella.” Cormack offers a somber nod.

  And neither one of them has the ability to say my name. I’m not sure why, but this little alphabet jumble has been going on for quite a while now.

  “You’re just in time. The fun is about to start.” I hitch my head over to the brimming crowd taking over the café. “What can I get you, ladies?”

  “A pumpkin spice latte for me,” Britney says it curt as if she found the drink offensive on some level. She turns and glowers at Naomi.

  “I’ll take the same.” Cormack wiggles as if she’s got something cooking she can hardly wait to share.

  “What is it?” I flatline. Face it, I’m not all that interested, but at the moment, it can take my mind off the fact the father of my child, my legal husband, is being kept alive by modern technology.

  Cormack’s celadon eyes widen. “I’ve got a hot date this afternoon.”

  Britney and I exchange a brief glance.

  “A lunch date?” I muse. And considering Noah hasn’t eaten lunch in nearly two weeks, it looks as if he’s finally off her radar.

  Cormack grimaces. “A dinner date, actually. We’re hitting the early bird special at the Evergreen.”

  Britney bubbles with a laugh. “Running with the geriatric crowd these days, Featherby?”

  “Yes, she is.” I take the liberty of answering for her. “You’re going to lunch with Topper Blakley, aren’t you?”

  Her mouth falls open and she quickly seeks out my mother while attempting to hush me.

  “Would you keep it down, Lynn?”

  “Cormack, that’s my mother’s twisted gentleman caller you’re flirting with. Although, we both know you’re doing more than flirting. Everett and I spotted the two of you in the woods that night.” Okay, so it was Noah and me, but I’m not going anywhere near that truth.

  Cormack takes a breath and doesn’t dare let it go.

  “That’s right,” I snip. “I caught you with your hand in the nookie jar. And with that old goat? Really?” I’m about to tell her she can do better when a dangerously delicious thought comes to mind. “Keep up the good work.”

  Both she and Britney blink back in disbelief.

  “I mean it,” I say. “The two of you are a far better fit than my mother and he will ever be. You’re upper crust and my mother is middle earth. She’s not even in the same tax bracket. It would never work. But you and Topper”—a husky laugh growls from me—“you click like fine wine. Face it, the two of you come from the same extravagant world. You above anyone else will understand how to spend his billions on quality luxury items.” I lean in as if I’m about to spill some serious juicy morsels. “My mother still shops secondhand.”

  Cormack straightens. “I’m so sorry to hear that. And to be frank, Topper would find that intolerable. I’m afraid for both their sakes I’ll have to step in. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She pulls a copy of that book everyone is toting. “I just finished this steamy gem last night.” She flashes the cover my way.

  “Her Baby’s Daddy.” I jump a little as I read it. My entire body feels as if it’s experienced a mild jolt of electrocution.

  Cormack moans as she looks to the morbidly pregnant woman on the cover while a man with long hair and a tan chest attempts to catch her as she faints.

  I’m about to faint. It’s as if the universe knew this embryonic fate would befall me and chose this book and its perverted procreative methods to taunt me.

  Cormack scuttles off and Britney leans in.

  “Why in the world would you give her the okay to steal your mama’s man?”

  “Because my mama’s man is a nutcase who runs a dating app for swingers, for starters. And secondly, he’s already cheated on her with Cormack. I say she can have him. And if she’s tangled up with someone else, then that means I get Noah all to myself.”

  She comes shy of grimacing. “Lena, you do realize he’s not doing well.”

  “Yes, but Noah is a fighter. He’s going to pull through.” My hand comes inches within cupping my belly again. “He has to.”

  She gives a single nod before darting her eyes over to Naomi. “You’re good at solving murders, aren’t you, Libby?”

  “So they say. Why?” The proof is in the homicidal pudding, but I’m not one to boast of my crime-busting accomplishments.

  “Because you might just stumble upon another body soon. I’m feeling a bit homicidal myself.”

  “Ooh. Who are you going to kill?”

  “Naomi Sawyer.” She stalks off and takes a seat just as the steamy meeting gets underway.

  Naomi? Now that’s a crime spree I want the details on sooner than later, but judging by the fact the naughty meeting is about to get underway, I opt for later for now.

  I’m about to walk over and fill that empty seat between my mother and Carlotta just as my half-sisters, Kelleth and Aspen, run in with a rather familiar looking young woman and head straight for the café. Both Kelleth and Aspen have vanilla blonde hair. Kelleth is tall and waiflike, and Aspen looks like a blonde Betty Boop. But that girl with them, there’s something about her that resonates and I can’t quite put my finger on why. Her short copper hair is curled under her jawline, her skin glows bronze, and just as she whips out her own copy of Her Baby’s Daddy, I realize where I’ve seen her before.

  It’s her! The young woman who whispered something to Trisha the night she was murdered and had her turning white as a ghost before she ever became one.

  Aspen scoots in close to her and they begin to whisper and giggle.

  Would you look at that? She’s friends with my sisters. It looks as if investigating my first suspect just became a little easier.

  I’m about to head that way when a tall, dark, and handsome figure walks right through the door, and I do mean through it—glass and all, followed by a gloriously gorgeous llama.

  “Noah,” I whisper with all the excitement I can muster and he presses out a dimpled grin my way.

  He holds his hand out and I covertly take it.

  “Let’s get to the kitchen,” he whispers as if someone might hear him and it only endears me to him all the more.

  Gemma, that giant giddy llama, clip-clops forward, looking ever so adorable with her blonde curly mane and those impossibly long lashes.

  “We’ve got a suspect in our midst, don’t we, Lottie?” Her voice warbles as if she were about to break into song.

  I nod and point to the crowd in general just as Naomi begins reading aloud a particularly steamy passage, that if I’m not mistaken leads to the aforementioned baby.

  “Oh dear”—Gemma clacks her way over—“I’ve never heard a riveting tale like this before.”

  “Poor Gemma,�
�� I whisper and I usher Noah off into my rather microscopic office—think airline toilet—and seal the door shut behind us.

  I wrap my arms around him tight and pull back to look at this magnificent man.

  “I love you so much.” My entire body quivers as I say it.

  “I love you, too, Lottie.” He brushes a kiss over my lips, and as magical as it is, I can hardly feel it this time.

  “You’ve been gone,” I say. “Where were you?”

  “I’m sorry. I really don’t have any control over this at all. I was in my body. I think I heard you and Everett last night. You were whispering in my ear, and I tried my hardest to grasp every word.”

  “Oh, Noah, that’s a good sign, right?”

  His brows pinch in the middle. “Yes, but this?” He glances down at this glowing blue frame. “This is sort of a bad sign.”

  My lungs seize, and I can’t catch my next breath. “You mean, when you’re here with me, you’re—”

  He gives a simple nod. “On the verge of death.”

  I do my best to swat him, but my hand keeps falling right through his body. “Get back there, Noah. I’d much rather have you fighting the good fight than making out with me in the office.”

  His chest bounces with a laugh. “Again, I only have so much control. Besides”—his expression sobers up—“I don’t think we should, you know, get physical in this state. It’s not right. It’s not fair to you, psychologically speaking.”

  “To heck with my sanity. I’m okay with physical.”

  Noah closes his eyes a moment before dotting my lips with a kiss. “That’s about as comfortable as I am taking it. If anything happens to me”—he swallows hard as if he had to—“I want you to know that I’m rooting for you and Everett.”

  My heart crumbles to dust just like that, and more than anything I want to tell him about our baby.

  Just as I open my mouth and struggle to get the words out, there’s a knock on the other side of the door.

 

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