Page 17 of Poison Apple Crisp

My stomach starts to do its best impression of the spin cycle, and just when I think I should dash right back out of here, I spot an older version of myself seated a few feet away, having what appears to be a shouting match with Mayor Harry Nash, aka my bio daddy.

“If I trusted you, I wouldn’t have to ask,” Carlotta belts the words out a touch too loud, and half the room turns her way.

I glance to Everett before we make a beeline over.

“Hey, you two,” I say, giving a nervous wave. “What’s going on?”

Mayor Nash, whom I haven’t been able to address as anything else even after I found out he was my biological father, has sparse wavy hair and a devil-may-care gleam in his eyes. He was a womanizer for years, two-timing his poor wife right up until recently when they got a divorce. But we’re on friendly terms, and I plan on keeping it that way. The two of them, however, I’m not so sure about.

Carlotta looks up. “Well, look who the cat dragged in. The big, bad judge and the lucky little missus.” She turns to Everett. “I heard all about those punishments you doled out last night. Congrats on all the coital success.”

Everett rocks back on his heels. “Yes, well, I’m a quick study. Thank you for the sage advice.”

Mayor Nash gives a dark laugh. “I’ve been telling Carlotta for a good long while she should put her bright ideas down on paper.” He leans her way. “Why, a book like that is guaranteed to be a runaway hit. You could be a bestseller.”

“I don’t think so,” I say. “In fact, you could do more harm than good. People pay good money to learn to play nice with one another. You might singlehandedly undue years of therapy for some folks. And you might just get slapped with a lawsuit or two.”

Noah pops up behind them with a concerned look on his face and lifts a hand. It turns out, we’re seated at the table right behind them, and oddly, the thought of Carlotta and Mayor Nash arguing all night has the power to stave off my nausea. Go figure.

Already seated at the intimate round table for four is Cokie with her crimson locks polished to a glossy finish as she wears her wavy tresses loose this evening. Her makeup is on point, and her lipstick matches her hair. She’s donned a low-cut red dress that’s squeezing her boobs in so tight they look like a couple of donuts ready to roll onto the table. It’s clear she’s all vamped up because she wants to take Noah’s tongue out for a joyride.

Whore.

Okay, so that was a bit harsh, but if I can’t vent my emotions to myself, I’m going to explode. I feel as if someone rearranged my internal wiring, and the slightest offense sends me over the edge.

“Essex, Lottie.” She squints out a smile, and I all but glower at her for tossing out my husband’s proper moniker. “Well, aren’t the two of you as cute as a bug in a rug. I still can’t believe you finally got hitched.” She shakes her head his way. “And you, Lottie Lemon, deserve a prize of some sort. But then, I suppose the baby is the prize, now isn’t it?”

“Yes, well”—I say as Everett pulls out my chair and I take a seat—“this is sort of a communal prize at the moment. The paternity of the baby is up in the air.”

Her mouth squares out as she leans forward.

“Wow.” She looks to Everett. “I knew you’d be an understanding partner, but perhapsyoudeserve the prize?” She guffaws at her own funny.

Everett ticks his head. “Lemon and I are relatively new, so no offense on that front. And Noah and I have already made peace with it.”

An odd chirping sound emits from Cokie as she clutches at her throat.

“See there, Lot?” Carlotta crows from behind. “You darn near killed her.”

I turn to find both Carlotta’s and Mayor Nash’s heads poking this way.

“Carlotta,” I hiss.

“What?” she squawks. “You didn’t think I was going to miss the big reveal, did you? That woman came sniffing around our Foxy. I wanted to see the look on her face when she discovered you’ve had a little naked time with both these grand studs.”

A groan comes from me as I look to Mayor Nash for help.

“Woman,” he takes a stern tone with Carlotta, “turn around, or I’ll march you out of here and take you over my knee!”

Carlotta gasps with delight before looking his way. “You watch your tongue, or I’ll tie you to a chair and pull out the riding crop.”

Both she and Mayor Nash get back to their own table, and my lips try their best to twitch a smile.

“You’ll have to excuse her,” I say to Cokie, who still looks as if she’s just been slapped up and down with said riding crop. “My mother has an odd sense of humor.”

“Your mother?” She gives a solid blink, and Noah nods her way.

“Lottie has two mothers,” he says.