Waffles at the Wake

Home > Mystery > Waffles at the Wake > Page 18
Waffles at the Wake Page 18

by Addison Moore


  Evie snorts. “You’re a riot, Carlotta. But Glam Glam lent me a few pieces from her collection. I settled on a thin gold chain with a heart dangling from it. She said Grandpa Joseph gave it to her, and she wanted to give it to me so that I would feel more connected to the Lemons.”

  My chest bucks as I fight back tears. “That’s so beautiful.” I sniff. “Evie, I can’t wait to help you get ready for the dance.”

  “Oh, I’m not getting ready here.” She says here as if the house were infested with rat feces. “We’re having a getting ready party at Dash’s house. And don’t worry. Her mom is taking pictures and texting them to all the parents.” She rolls her eyes as if the thought were annoying.

  Everett frowns at the idea. “I was looking forward to seeing you in your dress.”

  “And you will,” she assures as she dumps the rest of the Kung Pao shrimp onto her plate. “That is, if you’re still awake when I get home. But it’s going to be late. Like, four or five in the morning.”

  “What?” Everett’s fork slips from his fingers. “Evie, I’m positive they’ll close the gym down far before that.”

  “The dance isn’t at the gym, Dad.” Evie scoffs as she glances at the ceiling. “It’s at the Evergreen Manor. And once it’s through, the whole senior and junior class is renting a couple of conjoining rooms so we can party upstairs.”

  “No way,” Everett and I say in unison.

  Noah chuckles. “I believe that’s what we did way back when.”

  Everett growls over at him, “You are not helping.”

  “That’s because he gets it.” Evie nods his way. “Thank you, Uncle Noah. At least someone around here knows what it’s like to have a good time.”

  Carlotta grunts as she does her best to swallow down a mouthful of teriyaki chicken.

  “Evie Stevie, I get you, girl. I invented having a good time. Why, I rented a room myself after prom. How do you think your mama got here?”

  Everett looks as if he’s vibrating with a silent rage. “Evie, that is exactly why you can’t go up to some hotel room after the dance.”

  Evie leans his way. “Are you that afraid I’m going to pump out a kid in nine months? Have a little faith in me, Dad.”

  “I have plenty of faith you, Evie. It’s Conner and Kyle I don’t trust. And believe me, if I get a whiff of them trying anything, they won’t live to see senior year.”

  “Now, now.” Noah shakes his head at Everett. “Let’s keep the homicidal threats to a minimum tonight.”

  “Don’t worry, Uncle Noah”—Evie’s nostrils flare, and if I’m not mistaken, I think I just saw flames shooting out of them as well— “I’m well aware that Dad is a barbarian.” She looks to Everett. “After the dance ends, I think I’ll be spending the night at Uncle Noah’s. That way you won’t have to worry about me waking you up when I come in.” She winks at Noah. “Uncle Noah understands what it’s like to be young.”

  Everett’s chest expands a notch. “And he understands what it means to be irresponsible. You’re coming home after the dance or I’ll pick you up at the Evergreen myself.”

  “AAARGGH!” Evie howls with all the drama a sixteen-year-old who happens to be angry with her father can afford.

  “Okay.” I stand. “I think I’ll whip up some waffles. Evie, would you like to help?”

  “Anything to get me out of this conversation.”

  Evie and I whip up a batch of springy light waffles, and soon we’ve all eaten our fill of the delectable treats and are left moaning in their wake.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” I say, rubbing my hands over my belly. “Dr. Barnette suggested we watch a few live births on TV.”

  Carlotta squints over at me. “I wouldn’t do it, Lot. It’s bad enough it’s bound to happen to you. No need to torture yourself beforehand.”

  Evie’s expression sours. “Well, I’m leaving the room if you’re going to watch a baby get squeezed out of the fun zone.”

  “It’s not a fun zone, Evie,” Everett is quick to correct. “And I highly recommend you watch. It might change your position on a lot of things regarding the so-called fun zone.”

  “Eww!” Evie screams. “Do not talk to me about female anatomy, Dad. Quick, Uncle Noah, shove a waffle in his face and distract him. And don’t worry, Dad. Your threats regarding the Winter Formal were received. I won’t be having any fun that night or any other night of my life thanks to you.” She stomps to her room and slams the door shut.

  Carlotta ticks her head. “Parenting is fun. Too much fun for me, and that’s exactly why I passed that fun time to your mama, Lot Lot. Now turn on the tube and let the baby games begin. I’m betting Foxy passes out first.”

  Noah shakes his head. “I delivered Keelie’s child last summer, Carlotta. If anyone is going to need smelling salts, it’s the angry judge.”

  “I’m not angry,” Everett’s tone is curt as he wraps an arm around my shoulders. “I’m doing my best to keep Evie safe. I thought watching this might deter her from inviting guests into her body.”

  I grimace at that one. “All right, let’s shift our focus.” I pull Pancake onto my blooming belly, and Carlotta takes up his fluffy counterpart, Waffles.

  Noah cues it up, and soon we’re watching a woman having a home birth in a blow up swimming pool set in her living room, surrounded by sixteen of her closest friends, and about half a dozen kids of every size running wild around her. At one point, two of the kids hop into the pool with her, right along with the family dog.

  “Now that’s a party.” Carlotta squints at the screen. “What the heck is that?”

  A sing-songy wail escapes from me.

  Noah shifts in his seat. “I think they’re getting down to business.”

  “Look at her scream, Lot!” Carlotta shouts the words out.

  She’s not kidding. The woman really does have a set of lungs on her.

  Everett stiffens next to me, and the woman on the television howls as if her hair was just set on fire.

  A deep moaning sound comes from Carlotta. “This is the part where I blacked out, Lot. And when I woke up, there you were—crying and screaming and demanding to be fed.”

  Everett dips his mouth to my ear. “It’s a wonder you’re alive, Lemon.”

  “You’re not kidding.”

  Soon enough, a baby is ejected from the woman on the screen, and the cast of thousands gathered around her goes wild.

  “I don’t know.” Noah grimaces at the sight. “They’re keeping that baby under water an awful long time.”

  “Keeps ’em quiet,” Carlotta quips.

  “All right,” I say. “Try another one, Noah. That wasn’t bad, if you’re into torture flicks.”

  “Don’t worry, Lot.” Noah gets right to turning it to another cinematic delight. “I won’t leave your side on the big day.”

  Everett dots a kiss to my cheek. “And that will be the extent of your torture. Have you thought about whether or not you’re going to ask for something to take the edge off?”

  “I haven’t thought about it,” I say. “Come to think of it, blacking out sounds pretty peaceful.”

  Noah starts up another one, and I moan and groan right along with the poor woman being tormented. This time it’s a hospital setting, so I’m particularly interested in what happens.

  I press Pancake to my face and peer out from around his fur. Soon, the woman’s hospital gown is off and her husband’s hands are headed to second base.

  “What’s happening?” Noah leans in.

  Carlotta angles to get a better look at it. “He’s tweaking her knockers to get things moving.”

  “This is porn!” I stuff my face into Pancake’s belly.

  Everett lets out a breath. “Believe me, Lemon, I derive zero pleasure from this.”

  “That’s exactly what I’ll be saying come D-Day,” I mutter.

  There’s blood splattering everywhere, body parts I can’t identify are thrust in my face, and there is more screaming. My God up in heaven, ther
e is screaming—from both the husband and the wife.

  Everett takes a couple of deep breaths.

  “You okay, Sexy?” Carlotta quickly hands him a bottle of water from the coffee table.

  “I’m fine.” Everett takes the bottle and downs half of it in less than three gulps.

  “You’re white as a sheet,” Noah muses. “What did I tell you, Lot? There will be smelling salts the day you deliver.”

  “Yeah”—I huff—“for me.”

  We call it a night, and Noah gives me a firm embrace at the door.

  “I wish I could do this for you, Lottie.” He lands a kiss to my temple.

  Carlotta shakes her head. “There’s a reason Mother Nature didn’t let men give birth. Don’t you worry, Foxy. Once Lot Lot gnaws her arm off and beats herself over her head with it, that should help get her mind off the fact she has to squeeze a human from her fun zone.”

  “Goodnight,” Noah says, shooting her a look.

  We close up shop as Everett and I get straight to bed and straight into one another’s arms.

  I press a kiss to his lips and linger. “Everett? Today when you read the verdict, you looked at me for a moment. Do you think I made the wrong decision?”

  “No.” He pulls back a notch, and the moonlight slices a seam of pale blue light over his face from the break in the curtains. “You did perfect, Lemon. The reason I looked at you was because I wanted to memorize the very last moment I would have my beautiful wife in the courtroom with me—at least as a juror. You’re welcome to attend any of my public trials.”

  “Ooh, I think I might just take you up on that.” I dig my fingers through his hair. “I think I’m ready for you to hold me in contempt and dole out that punishment, Judge Baxter.”

  His lips flicker with devilish intent. “No punishment. Just pleasure.”

  And he makes good on his word.

  Chapter 16

  The next morning I cried when I kissed Everett goodbye as he left for the courthouse.

  I chalked it up to my hormones, but deep down it was heart-wrenching to know that I won’t be seeing him in action today. And I definitely plan on taking him up on his offer to sit in on his public cases. There is nothing hotter, nothing more resplendent than watching a room full of people—criminals aside—giving your husband their utmost respect.

  After I dropped Evie off at school, I went straight to the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery and lost myself in the kitchen, whipping up my sweet treats. As soon as I was all caught up on staples, I made a few lemon poppy Bundt cakes with a thick layer of icing on top, a caramel apple pie with a crunchy streusel topping, jumbo brownie cookies, which I infused with hazelnut cocoa spread, then while I was on a hazelnut kick, I whipped up a mocha hazelnut torte. And my hazelnut kick led to a chocolate kick, and I made a couple dozen mini molten lava cakes, chocolate cake filled with rich, creamy chocolate custard. Those lava treats are the be-all and end-all of everything I have ever baked.

  In fact, right this moment, I’m sharing a platter of those lava cakes with Carlotta, Lainey, and Keelie.

  Lainey has baby Josie strapped to her chest, and Keelie has passed baby Bear off to Carlotta.

  A thunderous sound rumbles from baby Bear’s bottom, and Carlotta turns her head and howls.

  “Son of a motherless goat!” Carlotta gasps as she holds baby Bear out at arm’s length. “What are you feeding this kid, Keelie Nell?”

  My blonde bestie scoops up her little man and gives him a pat on the bottom.

  “That’s how I know he belongs to Bear.” She leans over and kisses Josie on the top of her head. “No fair, Lainey. She always smells like a rose.”

  “That’s how I know she’s mine.” She gives a playful wink to Keelie. “Seriously, though”—Lainey digs into her molten chocolate cake—“I lived off your desserts for the entire time I was pregnant with her, Lottie.”

  “Makes sense.” Keelie nods. “I lived off barbeque pork sandwiches. What are you eating, Lot?”

  Carlotta chuckles. “That baby is going to come out smelling like a pickle—a fried pickle with a side of Sexy.”

  Lainey’s mouth falls open “So you think the baby is Everett’s?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t have any idea. Noah is positive this baby is his. Everett says it doesn’t matter, it’s still his.”

  Keelie waggles her brows. “Got to give it to Everett. That man knows how to lay claim to something. What I wouldn’t do to be a fly on your bedroom wall.”

  “Well, I have been!” Carlotta says with a touch too much enthusiasm. But before she can get into the dirty details, I spot a pink spray of stars appearing near my bakery shelves.

  “I’ll be right back, ladies,” I say, rising to my feet.

  “Go on, Lot.” Carlotta flicks me away with her fingers. “I’d hate to give away my trade secrets while giving away your trade secrets.”

  I make a face as I speed away. I’ll pump Keelie for information later just to make sure Carlotta isn’t taking naps in my closet again. In her defense, it’s a huge walk-in and she’s dozed off a couple of times in the middle of a wardrobe heist. I don’t mind Carlotta wearing my old clothes so much. It’s like seeing good friends you haven’t seen in a good long while out in the wild. And the clothes in question are the ones she managed to hole away at Mayor Nash’s place, which made them lucky enough to escape the big fire. And now I’m grateful for the fact she had sticky fingers before the big tragedy struck.

  “Flo,” I hiss her name out as she tries to pluck a jelly-filled donut out of the glass case and I help her with the endeavor. “You have to tell me where to find Donata.”

  She glowers over at me a moment. Her long, dark, curly hair looks just as crispy as ever, her flawless complexion, her pouty strawberry-colored lips, and smokin’ body—smoking in the literal sense since it has some sort of pink fog emanating from it—only annunciate her razor-sharp beauty. It’s easy to see why she would be so taken with herself.

  “Fine.” She takes an angry bite out of the jelly donut and moans. And while she indulges, I do my best to shield the sight of the floating fried delight with my body.

  Lily is busy at the register, and the customers are either too engrossed with the offerings in the refrigerated shelves or stuffing their faces with my sweet treats—mostly waffles—to notice. That whole Last Thing They Ate Tour my mother dreamed up has morphed into a full-blown trend.

  Flo glances to the ceiling. “Lottie Lemon, your desserts were worth the trip back to the planet. But no offense, there’s a place where the desserts have a taste of the old country that I can’t get enough of. And I have it on good authority my witches are meeting up there right about now.”

  “Perfect. Where is it?”

  She brays out a laugh. “Let’s have it be a surprise. I’ll hop in your van and tell you were to go. Trust me, you’re going to thank your lucky stars I ended up on the wrong side of existence once you step into that place.”

  “I would never say that, Flo. But before we go, you need to tell me where that turf war is happening. Noah can’t stop it if he misses the event entirely.”

  She gives a little wink. “Lottie, I’m family. I’m under blood oath not to reveal sensitive information.”

  “What?” I squawk so loud Lily looks my way. “This jelly donut is delicious!” I say, snatching it from Flo’s stingy little hand and gobbling it up myself. “Flo, you have to tell me where this deadly meet and greet is going down. You know that’s one of the reasons we did what we did for you and your hair.”

  “Lottie?” Lily hisses my name as she heads on over. “You’re scaring the customers. It’s bad enough you’re filling the shelves with weird things like fried pickles and crullers drizzled with hot sauce, but yelling at yourself is taking it to the extra insane next level.”

  “Don’t forget the cheese Danish sprinkled with bacon bits,” I say. “That’s one of my new faves.”

  Flo gives a frenetic nod. “And the waffle pizza. Oh, hon, I’m still
dreaming about it.”

  I wink her way. The waffle pizza was a one-off I made a few days back for the two of us to share, but it was so delicious I’m thinking I should add it to the menu soon.

  “Whatever,” Lily snips. “Keep it down. I for one can’t wait until you have that baby. It’s making you crazy, Lot. And Lord knows things are crazy enough in this town.” She takes off, and I turn to glare at Flo.

  “Speak.”

  She lifts her chin a notch. “Okay, okay. Don’t get your parachute panties in a bunch. I can’t tell you outright, but if you happen to guess it’s all on you.” She squints at the ceiling. “Okay, here’s a riddle for you. It’s where the florist heads to buy a black rose—and yet nobody goes.”

  “It’s where the florist heads to buy a black rose—and yet nobody goes?” I shake my head at the thought. “I have no clue.”

  “I got it!” a female voice cries from behind, and I turn to find Cormack Featherby standing there with her fist lifted in victory. Her platinum tresses are pulled up into a high ponytail, and it seems to be having a quasi-facelift effect on her eyes. “It’s the old abandoned flower mart in downtown Leeds! And don’t you dare tell me that’s not where you were about to go to meet up with a suspect. In fact, I’m going to cut you off at the pass.” She trots out the door before I can stop her.

  “Flo? When’s this turf war going down?”

  “Not to worry, your blonde bestie will be fine. It’s not set to go off until next Tuesday.”

  “Next Tuesday.”

  I quickly text the words to Noah, along with the location and the fact that Cormack just left for the place without elaborating.

  Thanks, Lot. He texts right back before my phone pings again. I’d better pluck Cormack out of there before they see anyone snooping around. We can’t afford to tip them off. Love you.

  “Thank you, Flo,” I say, wagging my phone her way. “You’re going to save a lot of lives. Now let’s get out of here and talk to Donata. I bet she has the rest of the answers I’m looking for.”

  “Maybe. But if she was the one to pull the trigger, she won’t live to stand trial for my murder. I’ll take care of her myself. I’ll meet you in the van.”

 

‹ Prev