Page 9 of Peach Cobbler Confessions
Ridge gives a furtive nod in agreement, looking pensive in the exact same way he does on his TV show.
“They most certainly will,” he agrees. “Every local authority available is under this roof. I don’t see how anyone could think they’d get away with this.”
Kent elbows his friend. “And if they do, Dane will wind up on your show.” He belts out a short-lived laugh, but neither Ridge nor I join in on the effort.
I get it, grief effects each person differently. Not to mention the fact this is all so new.
Ridge does a double take my way. “I heard Noah is living in Honey Hollow. Is that true?”
“Yup. In fact, he lives right across the street from me. Noah and I were seeing one another at the time I was house hunting and it seemed like a great arrangement. But then, Everett moved in next door to me and things just escalated from there, and now I’m rumored to be having both of their babies. Have I mentioned that I tend to talk a mile a minute when I’m around a celebrity? And a handsome one to boot? Not that I’m interested. I mean, I’m interested in you and your show, just not in that way. I’m sort of—”
Ridge belts out a laugh. “Not to worry. I get it. It happens more often than not. Tell Noah I’d love to have dinner one night.”
“Oh, I will.”
He squints over at me. “And good luck with the baby.”
“Thank you,” I say as the two of them take off.
What am I saying?
I open my mouth in an effort to refute the idea and a horrible belching noise emits from me as if twelve different demons were trying to fight their way out. My stomach bubbles and boils, and suddenly it becomes clear as the noxious fumes I’m exuding I need to get to a toilet, and fast.
Everett and Noah run up just as I’m plotting my way to the nearest commode.
“Bathroom.” It’s all I can manage to say as the two of them shuttle me to the ladies’ room like a chariot with wings.
Murder isn’t sitting well with me these days.
And neither is a bogus pregnancy.
It is bogus, right?
Chapter 4
Honey Hollow is moonless on this hot August night as Everett and Noah help me into my rental home. Evie and Carlotta bounce in right behind us and we’re greeted by two furry little sweethearts, Pancake and Waffles, a couple of Himalayan brothers that I’m lucky enough to call my own. They’re both creamy white with a rust-tipped tail and a smidge of color on their faces. Last month when my fellow transmundane friend, Bizzy Baker, was here, I was able to hear their thoughts as well. Bizzy isn’t supersensual like me; she’stelesensual, which means she has the ability to read minds.
I glance around the room as I get settled on the sofa. I don’t need to be a mind reader to know what everyone here is thinking.
“I’ve already texted Keelie,” I say. “She’s on her way with a pregnancy test so we can straighten this whole thing out.”
“Thank goodness.” Evie scoops up both Pancake and Waffles. “I can’t wait to take a picture of it and post it to all my social media sites. My friends are all going to think I’m knocked up.” She belts out a belly laugh.
“Absolutely not,” Everett booms before I can get the words out myself.
The truth is, my stomach is still on fire. Lord knows I put that toilet to the test back at the civic center. I had it coming out of me both ways. If I’m not knocked up, I’m full of a nasty virus, that’s for sure. And if that’s true, the joke will be on every person in this room once they’re rolling around in pain tomorrow morning, too.
“Evie, you should steer clear of me,” I say. “This might be a catching condition.”
Carlotta clucks her tongue. “Come on, Lot. You can do better than that. You don’t tell a teenager these days that they can catch the baby bug. Like she’s going to believe that. Everyone knows you can find yourself in the family way simply by drinking from the boy’s water fountain at school.” She winks over at Evie.
“Carlotta.” Everett’s voice hits its lower register and lets everyone in this room know he’s not happy with her attempting to unravel ten years of private school education in a single bound.
Evie rolls her eyes at her quirky grandmother. “Don’t worry, Mom. I know where babies come from. Conner and Kyle sat me down and gave me an in-depth dissertation on the subject, complete with flow charts and illustrations.”
“Evie!” I screech without meaning to.
Conner and Kyle are her two questionable boyfriends. I keep telling Everett she’s not serious with them, but it’s times like these that make me wonder.