Pumpkin Pie Parting

by Addison Moore

  Noah gives his lapels a tug with pride.

  “Easy, big boy, you belong to me.”

  Cormack clicks her tongue. “Noah belongs to me, Lisa. And if you think for one minute I’m trading up because I want to, I have news for you. Noah would want me to take care of myself and be happy. And only someone with Topper Blakley’s bank account could even get close to doing that. If I can’t have love with Noah, at least I can have a yacht and sixteen homes in twelve different states with Topper. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a wallet to secure.” She stalks off and expertly shoos those Elite Entourage girls to the wayside.

  “She’s right, Lottie. I want both of you to be happy. For Cormack, that means diving into the deepest pockets she can find—and for you, that means Everett.” Noah lands a soul-melting kiss over my lips. And if he hadn’t sealed his mouth over mine, I would have told him all about the precious child we’re about to bring into the world. He pulls away slowly and his body begins to shine ever so brightly.

  “Noah, wait. There’s something I have to tell you!” But it’s too late. Noah just zipped right back to his body.

  Keelie dances her way over with a fruity drink in hand as Bear does his best to keep up.

  “Lottie, are you sure you want that girl crawling all over your man?”

  I glance over to find Everett literally attempting to pluck Annette Havershem off his person.

  “It doesn’t look as if this is going as planned. I’d better intervene. Do you mind if I borrow this?” I say, taking the drink from her.

  “Not at all, Lottie.”

  I fly across the room as if I were the poltergeist in question and pretend to trip just as I come up on the skanky snake trying to climb Mount Baxter. I make sure to spill just enough of the icy drink in my hand over the front of her dress and she hops away from him a good three feet and screams.

  “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry,” I shout, but it comes out wooden because I’m not sorry in the least.

  Gemma appears before us, jumping and braying out a laugh. “Good one, Lottie! I was afraid she was about to pick his teeth clean. She’s a wild one, I can tell.”

  I nod her way just as Annette snatches a couple of napkins off the nearest table and wipes herself clean.

  “Here, let me help,” I say, stealing a napkin myself and dabbing her dress.

  “No, it’s fine.” She pushes me away as she surveys the area. “Oh shoot. I lost him. He was a looker, too. If you see the hot man with deep blue eyes, stay away. He’s mine.”

  “Oh right.” I give a nervous laugh as I glance around, hoping Everett has made a mad rush for the car.

  Gemma brays out another laugh. “She’s a comedian! Put her in her place, Lottie. I knew a girl like her back in my corral days. I’d spit on her if I could.”

  As much as I’d like to oblige Gemma, I decide to go at it from another direction.

  “Hey? I think we’ve met before. You’re Aspen’s friend. We met the night of the charity event.”

  She rolls her eyes. “He just brought that up, too. Isn’t that weird? We were both there. I think maybe we’re meant to be together. The universe just keeps throwing us at one another. I saw him this morning, too, at some ridiculous book club. My God, they don’t make them any hotter than Noah Boxer.”

  Noah Boxer? Good cover, Everett.

  “Isn’t it terrible what happened to Trisha Maples that night? Can you believe someone shot her right there in the parking lot? In fact, I think she had just finished introducing us right before it happened.”

  She sucks in a breath. Her eyes widen with horror as she scans the room as if suddenly looking for an exit.

  Gemma clip-clops in close to her. “Oh, she’s guilty, Lottie. I can see it in her scheming eyes. Should we trample her now?”

  I shake my head over at the eager llama anxious to cause some serious bodily harm to our very first suspect.

  Annette leans my way. “That’s right. She did introduce us.” She shudders a moment. “Trisha knew my aunt. I’ve had to listen to my aunt Gerrie complain about that woman for years. Of course, I worked with Trisha, too. We all volunteer down at the shelter.” Her eyes flit to the left, and I can tell she’s getting twitchy. “Have they arrested him yet?”

  “Arrested who?” both Gemma and I say in unison.

  “Leo—her boyfriend. Everyone knows they’ve had a rocky relationship. I knew it was a matter of time before he left her, but I had no idea he’d shove her off the planet.”

  My hand clutches to my chest. “Why in the world would he do that?”

  “I don’t know, but he’s guilty. He writes murder mysteries for a living. You would think he could get a little more creative on how to kill someone.” She starts to take off. “Oh, and hey, you run that bakery, right?”

  “Yes, the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery.”

  Gemma groans, “Great. A woman like this only wants something for free.”

  “Would you want to donate a few pies to the shelter this Thanksgiving? You could drop them off in the morning and you won’t have to miss out on your own celebration.”

  “Ah-ha! I knew it. She wants pies, Lottie. She’s only using you for your pies,” Gemma cries out. “Actually, that was pretty thoughtful, wasn’t it?”

  I nod covertly at the beast with the good hair.

  Annette is making it awfully hard to not like her. Clearly, she’s a good person. She volunteers at a homeless shelter and she’s helping to score some of my pies to help feed them on Thanksgiving? It would seem she truly is a good person. But plenty of good people have been convicted of murder before, so there’s that.

  “I would love to,” I say. “In fact, I’m not only going to volunteer my pies, I’m going to volunteer myself. I don’t mind one bit helping out with serving the food.”

  “Perfect. Show up as early as you want and stay as late as you like. Even an hour of help is huge.” She sighs as she inspects the crowd. “I’d better get back to work. What was your name again?”

  As tempted as I am to slip her an alias, I go with the truth. “Lottie Lemon. It’s nice to get to know you, Annette.”

  “It’s Nettie.” She wrinkles her nose. “Who knows? If I land that hottie from Honey Hollow, we might just be seeing more of each other. Ta-ta for now!”

  “Ta-ta,” I say as I glance around for said hottie.

  Gemma’s enormous body begins to sway to the music once again. Her neck moves to and fro as her feet tap to the beat. “Pardon me, Lottie. Now that our work is done, it’s time for this llama mama to have some fun.” She sashays her way to the dance floor once again.

  “Goodbye, Gemma!” I call out just as Keelie comes over to collect what’s left of her drink.

  “Come on, Lottie. You owe me a dance.” And I give it to her.

  Keelie, Lily, Naomi, and I dance up a storm and Cormack joins us for a few songs before we call it a night and hunt down our respective dates.

  I find Everett at the end of the bar.

  “I apologize,” I say, still trying to catch my breath.

  “For what? Having a good time?” He wraps his arms around me and gives my cheek a quick peck. “By the way, I checked online and it’s totally safe for a woman in your condition to shake her stuff on the dance floor.”

  A laugh titters from me. “Why thank you, Dr. Baxter. I’m glad to have your clearance,” I tease, shaking my head up at him in wonder. “I love how you love me.”

  He dips down and presses a kiss to my ear. “I love you both.”

  “I know you do.”

  He pulls back, his expression suddenly all too serious. “Why don’t we drive by the hospital on the way home? I know it’s past visiting hours, but I happen to have an in with the nurses.” He gives a quick wink. “Let’s tell Noah he needs to fight like never before. We still need him.”

  Everett and I do just that.

  I hope Noah heard.

  I hope he feels loved and needed. Because that’s exactly what we told him. And it’s th
e truth.

  The baby and I need him more than ever before.

  Chapter 10

  Exhaustion has set in.

  Everett and I have been reading those baby books as if they were instruction manuals on what our future holds—and I suppose they are. Last night Everett sweetly brought me Wicked Wok and a Mangias pizza in the event I craved both. He even went out and bought me a brand new pair of comfy PJs that make me feel as if I’m sleeping in a fluffy pink cloud.

  I can’t imagine Everett taking time out of his busy life to head into a store to buy clothes for me, but it was extremely thoughtful of him.

  He’s still spending the night at my place with his arms wrapped around me tight, and, in truth, I don’t know if I could sleep without him anymore.

  But all day, every minute, my mind drifts to Noah and our baby. This should be the happiest time of our lives. Instead, he’s fighting for his life, and I’m lying in bed at night with his former stepbrother.

  A part of me wants to delve into the dark what-ifs.

  What if Noah doesn’t survive?

  It would be the end of everything. I couldn’t bear it. The pain alone might kill me.

  On a practical note, I’m sure Everett and I would make our relationship official once again. We would probably get married as soon as possible, and Everett would raise this baby as if it were his own. And, eventually, I would have Everett’s biological child, too. Most likely many of them, considering the stock we’re dealing with. Of course, I feel that way about Noah, too.

  Oh, how I hate exploring the labyrinth my heart has become.

  The Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery just finished with its morning rush. My mother sits in the corner with Carlotta, both of them working up a storm. My mother is busy writing her book and Carlotta seems to be recording her with her phone as if documenting the event. I don’t pretend to understand Carlotta. I simply try to stay out of her way.

  “Lottie?” Lily trots to the registers where I’m standing, holding up a book in her hand. “What is this doing in your tote bag? Make Room for Baby?”

  I do a double take at that rectangular piece of literature and dive over it in haste.

  “Give me that.” I’m quick to wrestle it from her.

  “No!” Lily is tenacious. “I can’t believe you’ve been holding a secret so big. You and Everett are about to become parents! Poor Noah. That didn’t take long, did it?”

  I grunt and twist and finally come up the victor.

  “Lottie?” Mom calls from the other end of the counter, and I quickly shove the book up the back of my sweater.

  She’s wearing a silk cranberry-colored blouse that just so happens to be unbuttoned enough to show off far too much of her décolleté than necessary.

  Carlotta steps in next to her and cranes her neck in my direction. She smirks down at my hidden hand and nods because she knows I’m up to no good.

  “What can I help you ladies with?” I blink over at them with the upmost professionalism.

  Mom waves me off. “We’re headed to the library. I’ve got a writers group that starts in ten minutes. My how to write a murder club has procured a local author to come in and speak with us today. He’s going to teach us how to pull off the perfect crime.” Her brows waggle, and her voice is low and husky when she says that last part as if it were sexually provocative, and knowing my mother it will be.

  “That’s great. How about some cookies to take over with you? I’m sure Lainey wouldn’t mind.” Lainey is the head librarian down at the Honey Hollow Library, and outside of the two of us, I don’t think there’s another soul in the world who loves their career choice more than she does. As a little girl, Lainey was always surrounded with books. And as a little girl, I was always surrounded with cake batter. Our little sister, Meg, was surrounded with boys she liked to beat up.

  Mom nods. “Cookies would be prefect.”

  Carlotta twitches her nose at my mother. “Let’s hope he’s a hottie. After Topper dumped you, I’m rooting you find a decent man fast. You know what they say. The quickest way to get over a man is to get under another one.”

  Lily laughs, but I groan at the thought, partially because it happens to be a mantra my mother has subscribed to many, many times before.

  Mom scoffs. “Oh, Carlotta, Topper didn’t dump me. In fact, we’re having dinner tomorrow night at the B&B to straighten this whole mess out. He’s assured me it’s nothing but a misunderstanding.”

  Carlotta grunts, “I don’t know, Miranda. This murder mystery guru sounds like a beast of a man. With a name like Leo Workman, how can he not be? I bet he roars like a lion when he—”

  “Okay!” I say, taking a breath and then holding it abruptly. “Wait, Carlotta, did you say Leo Workman?” My mind flits back to the night of the murder. He introduced himself to me that night as Trisha’s steady Eddie—right before he dragged her off. It looked like they were squabbling. When I spoke to Annette, she mentioned they were on the rocks, and that he probably did it. She said he wrote murder mysteries for a living! My God, this is the same person. “You know what? Why don’t you ladies skip on ahead? I’m going to bring a platter full of pumpkin spiced goodies down myself. In fact, I’m going to sit in on your group if you don’t mind. I’m thinking about writing a book myself.”

  Lily giggles. “Yeah, Lottie is really interested in books as of late.” She gives a hard knock over that book shoved against my back and I shoot her a look.

  Mom nods while pressing her fingers to her all too exposed chest. “Oh, you should, Lottie. I’m finding it so cathartic. And it would be for you, too. Just make a list of all the people you’d like to kill and then fictionalize it.” She leans in hard. “I’ve already killed off half of Honey Hollow.” A gritty giggle pumps from her. “We’ll see you there.”

  Carlotta waves from the door. “Bring some pumpkin spiced blondies, and I might save you a seat.”

  “Lily, man the fort,” I say, hustling my baby book back into the office before quickly throwing together a box of every pumpkin spiced goodie I can find. “I’m headed off to solve a mystery.”

  The Honey Hollow Library is tucked up on a quiet street. The parking lot is sparsely filled as a smattering of women head on in with toddlers and babies alike. I balance the box of sweets in my hand while my other hand goes straight to my belly as if responding to some innate maternal cue.

  The brunette up ahead of me holds open the door for her tiny brood, a little girl with dark braids and a young boy with an adorable baseball cap. Those could be my children with Noah—my children with Everett for that matter. They’re so tiny and precious I could stare at them forever.

  “You too.” She hitches her head my way, and I quicken my steps to accommodate her for holding the door open for me.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  “No problem.” She glances down to my hand still protectively sealed over Noah’s sweet child. “When’s your baby due?”

  I gasp as I do a quick scan of the vicinity. “Um, I’m not really sure. I just found out. I haven’t really seen the doctor yet. In fact, I’m still trying to find a good one.”

  “Dr. Barnette,” she says as if it were the only choice. “She’s the best of the best, and she has an office right here in town. She delivered all of my babies for me so far, and I have another one due in August. I just found out myself, and I still haven’t broken the news to my husband. I’ve been scrolling Pinterest in hopes to get super creative. You know you have to stage these things, and every announcement has to be more outlandish than the last. God forbid you get accused of stealing the idea from someone in one of your mommy groups.” She groans as she looks to the ceiling. “Mommy cliques are the worst. Hey? You’re probably due in August, too. Have fun with it. And remember Dr. Barnette!” She trots off after her children who have already sailed on toward the library proper.

  The expansive foyer boasts a vaulted ceiling that shoots up fifty feet at least and gives the library a grand appeal.

  Outside
of the scent of something delicious baking in the oven, the next best way to intoxicate my senses is with books. I take in the sweet scent of pulp, and it takes me right back to my youth where my mother carted us off to the library every chance she had.

  I take a moment to peruse the colorful décor in the foyer. Artwork from local students lines the walls, and it adds a homey feel to this already homey structure that holds a special place in my heart.

  Inside, the thick carpeting dampens the sound of footfalls as a handful of people mill around the new books section.

  And sure enough, seated behind the wide checkout desk are Lainey and one of her coworkers, Laurie Ackerman, who just had a baby last year.

  I head over and open up my box of goodies. “Morning, ladies! First treat of the day goes to the two of you for keeping order in the stacks.”

  Laurie quickly dips a hand into the box and comes up victorious with a pumpkin scone, but Lainey picks up a children’s picture book next to her and places it over her nose instead.

  My sister pinches her nose shut while squinting as if she might be sick.

  “Oh God, get that thing away from me.”

  “Lainey, are you saying my cookies stink?”

  “I’m saying the box stinks.”

  Both Laurie and I ogle my sister as if she just sprouted a second head.

  “Fine. I’ll be joining the mystery crew if you need any more cookies,” I say to both of them and her coworker gives me the thumbs-up.

  I trot off and spot a large crowd congregating around a table, all women about my mother’s age.

  Carlotta waves me over and I head that way.

  Everyone here has either a laptop or a stack of notebooks spread out before them, and here all I brought were cookies.

  Mom sits right next to a rather handsome older man, chatting away with him in her effort to become the teacher’s plaything, no doubt. And low and behold, he’s the exact man I met that night. A tingle of excitement rides through me at the thought of walking right into another suspect this morning.