Page 37 of Toxic Apple Turnovers
The next day, I decide to progress my investigation by asking my mother and her questionable boyfriend out to dinner.
I knew there was trouble in paradise when she asked which one. But, of course, I insisted she bring Pastor Gaines. No offense to Mayor Nash, but he won’t do me any good as far as moving this case along. And since I’ve dubbed this a double date, I had to go about the business of eating crow.
Since Noah crawled up on my already rattled nerves last night and burrowed on in, I quickly scratched his name off the list of potential prospects. I texted Everett the invite and he agreed to meet me for dinner, but only if I’d agree to a nightcap at his place later. My mouth watered just thinking about heading to Everett’s place in just a few short hours.
How I miss those wild kisses, those wild nights we spent lighting his entire house on fire with our desire. And, of course, I feel like a ninny for even thinking about any of that because Noah and I are supposed to either find closure or each other. I can’t help it, though. I’m weak.
Mom and I settled on the Honey Pot Diner. For as much as I walk in and out of that establishment all week, I hardly ever dine there, so it’s a perfect excuse to partake in whatever feasts the master chefs have on special.
It’s well into the evening. The sun set hours ago, and the crisp autumn breeze whistles outside the window we’re seated by as the moon illuminates the maples a magical shade of yellow.
Inside the Honey Pot, the large resin oak tree is aglow with twinkle lights. Nearly every table is filled to capacity—a few townies, but mostly tourists. A group of young men laugh boisterously nearby, and I happen to glance over just as a young man with red hair, a pushed-in nose, and wide-set eyes does a double take my way and glowers as if I was admonishing them. That’s not true. I couldn’t care less how loud they were as long as they paid their bill and tipped Keelie twice what she was due.
I scoot my seat closer to Everett and decide not to look past this table for the rest of the night.
Both my mother and I decide on the lemon chicken, and both Everett and Pastor Gaines have decided on the surf and turf special.
Everett looks dangerously handsome tonight in his jet-black suit with gray pinstripes, and his tie gleams as if it were filled with stars. There’s something supernatural about Everett’s comely looks regardless of his glowing tie. He’s a man’s man through and through, and I can’t help but become hypnotized by him.
He and Pastor Gaines are busy carrying on a conversation about some law that Pastor Gaines inquired about, but I’m too love-struck to keep up with it.
“Psst.” My mother gives my arm a quick tap and snaps me out of my Everett-induced trance. Her hair is lightened more than usual, giving it a buttercream appeal, and her lips are swathed a glossy cherry red. Miranda Lemon truly is a stunning woman. “You’re looking at him just the way I used to look at your father.” She touches her chest as if the idea melted her. “It must be true love, Lottie.”
I glance to Everett, and every cell in my body heats up for him.
It is love. That I can never deny.
Our food comes, and Pastor Gaines says a quick blessing. No sooner do I open my eyes than I spot Owlbert on the table doing his best to peck away at Pastor Gaines’ sirloin.
“Please, Lottie, do something about this inability to digest. You can’t expect us to show up at a meal this tempting and not steal a bite or two.”
I do feel guilty about that. But since there’s nothing I can do about his present digestive wishes, I can at least get right to the chase—orcaseas it were.
“Pastor Gaines”—I start, picking up my fork—“Hazel tells me she’s filling in her sister’s shoes. How’s she working out for you?”
His eyes flit to the ceiling a moment. “Hazel is no Amanda, but she’s learning the ropes. She booked a live band for a funeral and had a eulogy set out for a wedding I did last week.”
We all share a warm laugh on her behalf, and I casually pick up Everett’s hand in the event Owlbert feels the need to squawk his mind.
Owlbert hops my way, landing smack in the middle of Everett’s side of mashed potatoes. “Good work. You’ve warmed him up. Now go in for the kill.”
I glance to Everett and smile before reverting my attention to Pastor Gaines. “Hazel seems like a sweet girl. But Amanda was a powerhouse.”
Mom chortles when I saypowerhouse. My mother is a powerhouse in and of herself, so I’m guessing she likes the camaraderie.
“That she was.” He lifts a brow. “Amanda could do spectacular things that Hazel can never do.”
Mom clicks her tongue at him. “Now don’t say that. I’m sure Hazel will rise to the occasion.”
Why would Pastor Gaines close off to Hazel like that? A thought occurs to me.
“Amanda once told me you were very close friends.” She didn’t, but that’s beside the point.
His eyes widen, and for once that creepy smile glides off his face as he glances to my mother.
“We were. She was a sweet soul. Lost her parents earlier this year and was in need of counseling. Of course, I stepped onto the scene just a few months ago myself, but I lent her an ear whenever she needed it.”
Mom breaks apart her dinner roll in anguish. “The poor girl. Losing one parent is bad enough, butbothof them? Do you know what happened?”