Page 3 of Poison Apple Crisp
“Actually”—he nods my way—“I’m a happily married man.”
The redhead’s jaw becomes unhinged. “You don’t say? Well, do me a favor and bring the missus by the event tonight. I just have to meet the woman who tamed the beast.”
“You’ve already met her.” He nods my way. “Lemon here is the woman that completes me.”
Cokie gags and sputters and glances from Noah to Everett and right back to me again, looking morbidly confused.
I offer up a tiny shrug. “It’s a long and very complicated story.”
Brenda smacks the blonde by her side. “Hear that, Ginger? She’s got two men. And here we thought it was only possible the other way around.” She winks my way. “Don’t let either of them talk you into doing something you’ll regret.”
Rachelle shifts and rolls her eyes. I’m betting it’s an inside joke.
The three of them scoop up every last box of apple crisps and head out into the cool autumn air. And on their heels waltzes in my beautiful blonde bestie, Keelie Nell Fisher, along with a tiny blue bundle in her arms, her brand new baby boy, Bear.
PapaBearis right there with them, too. Bear is Keelie’s husband, but right now, he’s more or less an afterthought as everyone races to make their way over to see the sweet tiny tot she’s cradling.
Keelie and Bear’s baby boy looks every bit as surly and ruddy as his daddy, same pale blond hair as his mama, although Bear has blond hair, too.
OtisBearFisher and I dated all through high school. He had a habit of chasing after other girls, and I had a habit of crying into my pillow at night. But he’s since changed his two-timing ways and married Keelie last summer. They were already expecting this little bundle by then, and he popped out just last month.
Mom coos as she brushes the baby’s chubby hand with her finger. “Hello there, precious boy. I cannot wait for you to meet my sweet granddaughter, Josie. I just know you’re going to be soulmates right out the gate.”
“You meanwomb,” Keelie’s mother, Becca Turner, cajoles. “Oh, they’re going to be best friends, just like you and me, Miranda,” she’s quick to tell my mother.
Mom nods. “Just like Lottie and Keelie.”
It’s true, Keelie and I have been best friends since preschool, which is probably the reason her twin, Naomi, hates my guts. But as fate would have it, I’m related to them both. The woman I knew as their grandmother was my grandmother, too.
My birth mother, Carlotta, abandoned me on the floor of the Honey Hollow Fire Department right after my birth, and I was adopted by the sweet fireman who found me, Joseph Lemon, and his wife, the flirty blonde before me, Miranda.
Carlotta muscles her way to the front. “All right, Lot Lot, let’s hear it. What’s the big announcement? I’ve got to get my hair done-did. Evie invited me to the fundraising event tonight, and word on the scholastic street is there will be an entire herd of hunky male teachers looking to get educated in all the right subjects.” She hoists her chest out as if offering up subjects A and B.
I make a face. I happen to know Evie won’t be there tonight. It’s adults only at this highfalutin fundraiser. I bet inviting Carlotta was Evie’s way of getting her out of the house—more like the neighborhood.
“Oh!” Mom raises a hand. “Me too, Lottie. You’ll need to hurry. I’ll be there tonight as well, helping Wiley man the bar. The PTA says they like to get the patrons good and juiced up so that they’ll be more apt to pull out their wallets.”
“That’s right.” Wiley steps up next to her grinning from ear to ear, looking every bit like Noah in the process—as he should. Wiley is Noah’s father. “The drink of the night is called the Summer Blues Cure.”
Mom grins like a loon. “It’s designed to give you that back-to-school buzz.”
All words I pray she never says within earshot of Evie or anyone associated with Honey Hollow High.
My sister, Meg, threads her way to the front. Her hair looks freshly dyed a shade of stark black and her pale eyes look more than upset with me.
“Come on, Lot. I’ve got Lainey on the phone. She says she’s not coming near this cesspool of germs. And I’ve got to be at the Honey Hollow High gymnasium in a couple of hours. The PTA hired me to bring the entertainment—a few of my girls are manning the tables.”
“The what?” I give a quick blink. I happen to know that my sister works at a strip club, and if what she says is true, I’m rethinking my take on the event. Actually, Meg is a dance instructor down at Red Satin Gentlemen’s Club. She doesn’t actually do the dancing. And I much prefer her helping out at the Honey Pot Diner than being ogled by rogue drunks that are looking to cop a feel.
But before Meg can extrapolate, Suze Fox, Noah’s mother, growls.
“Let’s have it,” she barks. Suze is generally ornery. She has short blond hair that swoops low in the front, and she reminds me of an older, angry member of a boy band.
“All right,” I say, taking a deep breath as I make my way around the counter and hold out my hands as Noah takes up one and Everett takes up the other.
I nod to my stepsiblings and to my birth father, looking as if he’s about to fall asleep standing up, Mayor Harry Nash. I glance across the sea of faces to find Evie staring at her phone. That’s okay. I’m pretty sure I’ll have her undivided attention in about ten seconds.
I clear my throat. “The reason I’ve called you all here today is to tell you that—” A lump the size of a bassinet swells in my throat.