Page 23 of Macaron Massacre
I told Carlotta and Nell all about my adventures at the courthouse yesterday—sans any details whatsoever about my real adventures at the courthouse with Mr. Sexy. I learned long ago that there are some details best kept private.
Carlotta grunts as she snaps up a handful of macarons as if they were poker chips. The bakery looks as if it’s under siege with an explosion of little colorful dots, and the entire place holds the scent of vanilla and almond extract. Not only are macarons the most colorful cookies I’ve made, but they’re by far the most fragrant.
“I bet the ex did it.” Carlotta pops another French vanilla macaron into her mouth. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail just like mine, and as much as I’m not thrilled to admit it, we’re twining in just about every other way, too. “Gloria sounds like a pistol. And her kids sound like pigs.”
Nell and I exchange a quick glance. Nell looks remarkably solid, even though I can see glints of sparkles of light going off inside her every now and again. I guess you could say Nell has taken her sparkling personality to the next level.
It turns out, when Nell is not in my presence, she spends her time evenly dispersed with her children. And, even though technically Carlotta was her niece, Carlotta has been getting some serious Nell time, too. Carlotta is the only other family member that can see Nell other than me, so it makes sense. And God knows it’s nice to have someone to talk to.
“Speaking of kids.” Carlotta offers an eerie grin my way as she chomps her way through five or six macarons. “I heard you’re knocked up. So, it’s the judge you’ve decided on, eh? Is that your final verdict?” She gives a cheesy wink. “Verdict! Get it?”
“I get it. And no, I’m not knocked up as you so delicately put it. We’re definitelynotat that stage. We’re at the let’s-have-fun stage. The let’s-pretend-Noah-Fox-never-happened stage. Everett has been a balm to my broken heart. And—we’ve even exchanged I love yous.”
Carlotta stares off into space. “I did that once and out popped you. But the man who participated in your existence wasn’t all that interested.”
“You mean he knew about me?” I’m actually not at all curious about who this man might be. I’m purely asking to get a better gauge of Carlotta’s shady history with love, and sadly, I happened to play a starring role in that fiasco.
“Nope. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. I was pretty good at hiding my tummy. Never did turn into a beach ball. My brother, Will, was so busy with his friends, he never noticed the fact I was hiding in my room all the time. And Becca was already with Jack at that point.” She gives a sideways glance to Nell. “And don’t you think for a minute they were studying for finals at his place all that time.” She snorts my way. “They were making babies themselves. Becca and Jack got married right away, of course—senior year in college. That was Becca for you, always doing things the right way—or at least pretty close to it. I remember the night she told me she was pregnant with the twins—of course, she didn’t know there were two little troublemakers warring for room in her tummy at that point. But she said, ‘Carlotta—I’ve rolled the dice, and now I have to pay the price. Jack and I are tying the knot. You can be the maid of honor so long as you don’t tell Mom I’ve gone and sinned before my wedding.’” She made me feel so bad about having you already brewing inside me, I couldn’t hardly stand to leave my bedroom.”
Nell nods. “You coerced a doctor to convince me you had mono. I let you lounge around thinking you were healing, and here you needed my words of comfort. I’m so sorry that things turned out the way they did.”
“Don’t be.” Carlotta snaps up ten or twelve more macarons off the island. “God forbid if Daddy found out. He would have made me tell him who did it, and that boy would have been dead.” She rolls a macaron my way, and the tiny pink wheel wobbles as it makes its way over. “The cookie is in your court, Lottie Bobottie. You can give your birth daddy the heart attack he deserves after all these years.”
“No, thank you. I’m all grown. I don’t need another daddy. Joseph Lemon filled those shoes nicely—and for a lifetime, might I add. I had the very best upbringing. Father-daughter dances, picnics with the family, camping, hiking—my dad even taught me how to fish, drive, and start a barbeque grill. There are no further skills this man could possibly offer to teach me.”
“Teach you?” Carlotta balks. “I’m talking about you teaching him—alesson. Ever since I’ve been back in Honey Hollow, he’s been turning his nose up at me. Making little quips about how he’s so successful and I’m a nobody who had to move in with her sister.”
I bite down hard on my lower lip. It’s true. For a time, Carlotta was living with her best friend, Rhonda Gilbert, but after Rhonda was murdered a few months back, Carlotta had to boot scoot her way out of that house and into Becca’s place. Keelie has hinted a few times that Becca is about to pull her hair out. But, I figure, better her than me.
“Have you thought about getting your own place? I mean, you’re making a livable wage down at the flower shop, right?”
“Is that what they’re calling it these days? It’s an oxymoron. There’s not a single place in Honey Hollow that I can rent and still afford gas for my car and food for my mouth.”
“Then you’ll have to get a roommate.” Preferably one that’s not me.
Nell shakes her head. “If only William would loosen up about my estate. Had I known he would take such umbrage with me leaving things to you, Lottie, I would have given him a good scolding before I bit the big one. I’ll figure out how to untangle this knot, girls. Just you wait and see.” She sighs heavily. “I hope.”
“You got a roommate in mind for me?” Carlotta lifts a brow my way and looks decidedly more like my twin in the process. As of late, she’s been hydrating her skin and wearing makeup the way I do. It’s almost eerie the way we look alike.
“Well, you know, I’ve got the cats.” Wow, that must be the lousiest excuse known to man. “How about at the B&B with my mother?”
She balks at the thought. “And listen to all the things that go bump in the night? No, thank you. And I was referring to your mother’s headboard. I don’t mind the ghosts. Did I tell you, Greer and Winslow are looking to adopt?”
“What?” I balk at the lunacy. “Wait, let’s just backtrack for a minute. My mother’s headboard is taking a breather. Her fiancé was just murdered, remember?”
Carlotta huffs out a dark laugh. “Someone here doesn’t know her mother. That woman is playing up the part of the grieving widow to the hilt. And she’s been seeking some comfort the old-fashioned way. Leave it to Miranda to use even the most grievous circumstances to her advantage. And Mayor Nash doesn’t seem to mind one bit. Hey? Maybe he killed Rich Dallas just so he could finally have your mother all to himself? I’m siding with the press. In fact, I bet that’s how your love triangle ends, Lottie—withmurder. Those boys are hot to trot, and they’re both pulling out all the stops. I’d bet my trusty Toyota that Detective Fox has an unfortunate misfire in the very near future.”
“Would you stop? The last thing I need is for you to call some seriously bad juju into existence.”
“It’s true.” Carlotta barrels on with her quasi-curses. “Those boys each want you for themselves, and don’t think just because they spend their days on the right side of the law that they’re above getting low down and dirty. Someone is going to end up in a casket. Just you wait and see.”
“Geez.” I throw a cookie at her, and she catches it right in her mouth like a trained circus seal. “Nell, please tell her that nobody is going to end up in a casket over me.”
Nell lifts her hand to her mouth and turns her head abruptly.
“Oh my goodness, Nell! Is something terrible going to happen to Noah or Everett?” My heart ratchets up into my throat.
“It’s not for me to say, dear. This isn’t any of my business.”