Before I can contest it, Meg and Keelie head this way from the Honey Pot.
Keelie, my bubbly blonde bestie, is the manager next door. And Meg, my somewhat brooding sister, has helped her maintain it while Keelie has been taking a little extra time away to be with her new baby.
Keelie married my old high school boyfriend Otis Bear Fisher. He basically cheated on me throughout our entire relationship and had me crying myself to sleep each and every night. But he’s since cleaned up his cheating ways, and now Keelie and he have started a family. Bear is actually the contractor I hired to work on my grandma Nell’s house—one of the homes she left in my care. I’ve come to regret the fact I’ve hired him more than a handful of times. It’s taking so long to rebuild, it makes me wonder if he’s planting the wood from seedlings and waiting for it all to grow.
“What’s up?” Keelie slings an arm around my shoulders.
Meg grunts as she heads for the bakery shelf. “We just came to steal a few cookies,” she says while snapping up a handful of gingerbread men.
Lily takes one for herself. “I was just telling Lottie she’s gone too far with this whole planting a dessert on a dead body thing.”
Meg barks out a laugh. “Please. Lottie and our mother are in cahoots. Mom’s got the world convinced her B&B is haunted, and because of that she’s got a group of gullible hippies coming through each afternoon for those haunted Honey Hollow tours.”
Lily nods. “And once she’s through with that, she sends an entire busload of hungry hippies our way for The Last Thing They Ate Tour.” She says that last part in air quotes.
It’s true. And don’t think for a minute that my mother is giving those tours for free. Nope. She’s charging eighty bucks a pop and raking in money hand over haunted fist. Not that I’m doing so bad once those hungry hippies head my way. I’m sort of raking in the dough, too, and sadly it’s on the backs of those poor homicide victims.
I frown over at Lily. “I have no idea why all of those bodies had one of my desserts nearby. But as fate would have it, people do seem to want to eat whatever the murder de jure is. And, this month, it just so happens to be my eggnog trifle.” I pluck a couple out of the refrigerator shelving unit and both Meg and Keelie coo at how adorable they are.
“Mason jars,” I say. “It was the only way I could think to sell them individually.”
“And look.” Lily pulls out a couple of miniature versions. “Tiny Mason jars for those who just want a few bites. Don’t worry, Lottie. I’ve already tripled our orders for all the ingredients—and picked enough Mason jars, big and little, for you to poison the entire state of Vermont with.”
“Gloria Abner wasn’t poisoned,” I point out. “She was shot in the back.”
Keelie shudders. “By your future mother-in-law, Lottie.”
“We don’t know that,” I say. “Besides, I’m married to Everett, remember?” I hold out the emerald-shaped diamond on my left hand, and all three of them scoff.
“Please, Lot”—Meg swipes up a Mason jar filled with my trifle and a spoon—“we all know you’re going to be married to Noah again someday. It’s simple Lottie Lemon relationship math. You can’t make up your mind, so you keep switching back and forth.”
“Okay, so some of that is true,” I’m quick to concede. “But I’m staying put where I am. Everett and I are really giving this a shot.”
Keelie moans through a bite of my eggnog trifle. “But what if the baby belongs to Noah?”
“Everett and I will raise it right alongside Noah. Just like Noah is essentially helping raise Evie. We’re all just one big happy family.”
The three of them burst out laughing.
“What?” I ask as I look to the cackling trio, bewildered.
Meg swipes one of the mini eggnog trifles up as well. “You just basically admitted to what we all suspected. You should look into ordering one of those extra-large heart-shaped beds.”
I growl at the three of them and Meg heads back to the Honey Pot laughing.
Keelie moans through another bite of her trifle. “What’s your secret, Lottie? This is phenomenal.”
“Instead of angel food cake, I make them with gingerbread cake. It adds that extra layer of Christmas cheer.”
An entire slew of new customers head through the door, and along with them are Carlotta and Evie.
“Happy moving day!” Evie sings.
It’s true. Noah and Everett are currently hauling all of the furniture Evie and I spent the last month ordering. Of course, Everett had his say in it, too.
Evie wanted to go full modern, clean lines, no color, and I reeled her back just enough to make it cozy.
Both Noah and Everett shooed me away from the scene this morning after I was spotted picking up a heavy box. They suggested I head to the day spa at the Evergreen Manor, but I opted for something far more delicious: working at the bakery.
Keelie gasps. “Oh my goodness, that’s right! You’re getting your own place again. I bet Noah is really bummed.”
Evie nods. “You should have seen him after you left, Mom. He was moping around and kicking things, mostly the boxes that belong to Dad. He said it wasn’t fair that you and Dad get to move in together because he never got to do that with you.”
That might be true, but oddly enough, Noah and I were married for a short spate of time ourselves. Unfortunately, he happened to be in the hospital for almost the entirety of our short-lived union.
Carlotta nods as she offloads a giant tote bag onto the table. I can see her green minivan parked outside the bakery with a giant magnetic sticker slapped to the side of it that reads A Whole Lotta Touchin’ Massages. Inquire within. You won’t need a loan for a few cheap moans.
I can’t help but roll my eyes. A few men have already knocked on the windshield of her van, but I don’t dare tell Carlotta she’s losing some of her dicey customers. Needless to say, I don’t approve of that particular business venture.
“Evie Stevie is right,” Carlotta says as I set a couple of eggnog trifles in front of each of them with a spoon spiked through it. “In fact, Foxy got feisty and blamed Everett for stealing his life, his wife. And then Mr. Sexy pointed to his busted arm and said the next time Foxy found himself in a burning building, he was going to enjoy a cold drink and watch the thing burn.”
Evie nods as she digs her spoon around in the trifle. “And then Uncle Noah said that baby in your belly is his, and that no matter what Dad did, he couldn’t break the bond between the two of you.”
Carlotta shrugs. “And then Sexy said he was going to break something right then, and the two of them came to blows.”
“Are they still alive?” I ask, still unsure which way my emotions are about to run with this one.
“As far as I know,” Carlotta says as she unzips her bag. “I told ’em to keep their mitts off my painting once it’s delivered. I can’t wait until it gets to the house. I think we should put it right above the fireplace.”
“No way.” Just the thought sends a hard roll of nausea through me as I grip my belly and moan.
“I got this,” Keelie shouts as she jumps behind the counter and shoves a fried pickle into my hand.