of cute, too, but Carlotta herself is my hang-up about my formal name. Besides, Lottie suits me better. “In fact, this just might be your own grandchild,” I say, patting my belly.
The group of women oohs and ahhs, but mostly they gasp at the salacious detail I just let slip.
Serena wastes no time in scoffing. “You mean, you don’t know who the father is?”
“Well”—I shrink back a bit—“not necessarily.”
Kringle chortles as he skips across to my other shoulder. “This is getting fun.”
Elodie, the tall woman with the dark bangs fringing her eyes, leans in. “Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”
“I don’t know that either. In fact—”
“Lie down on the table,” she instructs before I can finish, and then an entire group of women is helping me lie down over the bistro tables they’ve strung together and I’m looking up at the glass ceiling covered in snow, wondering what in the heck I’ve just gotten myself and my poor unborn child into.
Elodie swoops over toward my belly. “Oh, we’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this.” She plucks her necklace off, and soon the triangular pendant is rocking back and forth over my belly. “We can predict what you’re about to have right here. Wouldn’t it be nice to know whether you’re having a boy or a girl?”
“What a Christmas treat, Suze!” someone shouts.
“This is going to be tasty,” another points out.
Kringle runs down the length of my body. “I think they’re going to eat both you and the baby, Lottie! I’m pretty sure that will ruin Christmas for the both of you.”
Why doesn’t it surprise me that Suze is a part of some baby-eating cult? Makes perfect sense, in fact.
Elodie offers a tight smile my way, and I can’t help but note she has an exotic look to her, smooth skin, thin yet dark stained lips, and there’s something about her moon-shaped eyes that demands you look into them.
“If the pendent drifts north to south, it’s a boy,” she tells me. “If it’s east to west, it’s a girl.”
“No, no.” Serena takes off her own necklace in a huff and holds it over my belly. It’s a silver necklace as well, but the pendant looks to be a silver snowflake. It’s probably something far more nefarious, but my innocent mind refuses to acknowledge it. “It’s east to west for a boy, Elodie. How many times do we have to go over this?” She sniffs as she looks to the other women. “Suze, please light the sage and circle the room.”
Suze whips out a small fistful of smoking weeds, and then she’s stalking around the crowd gathered around me in a counterclockwise direction.
Serena clucks her tongue. “Come on, ladies. You all know the chant. Beguilers beguile!”
Soon, the room booms with the words beguilers beguile over and over again until I’m terrified of both the sound of these women’s voices and the morbidly serious look on their faces as well. I’m suddenly missing the shoestring budget gals and those friendly cheapskate smiles they gave so freely.
Little Lea floats above me. “Shall I slaughter them all, Lottie?”
I’m just about to give her the murderous thumbs-up when Elodie’s pendant begins to swing violently from side to side.
“It’s a boy!” she shouts, and the room breaks out into a congratulatory cheer.
A rush of adrenaline fills me as I get up on my elbows and look down at my tiny blooming bulge.
“A boy?” I can’t help but laugh with delight.
“Oh, Lottie!” Mom pokes her head between two of the women’s shoulders. “This is wonderful! I’ve already got two granddaughters, and now I have a grandson to go along with them. Thank you.” She blows me a kiss, and I bite down a smile as tears come to my eyes.
Serena shakes her head. “I wouldn’t go painting the nursery blue just yet.” She swats Elodie’s silver triangle out of the way and holds her own pendant over my belly, and sure enough, it’s moving in the opposite direction. “North to south. It’s a girl.” She holds up her necklace and the room goes wild as if she just won a showdown at high noon. “Congratulations, Suze. You’re going to have a granddaughter.”
“She won’t be my granddaughter.” Suze is quick to renounce the baby in my belly, and I’m not all that surprised.
Kringle runs back my way. “She’s a real witch, isn’t she?”
I give a quick nod to the astute little spook.
Serena’s lips knot up to the side. “A paternity debate.” She taps the