Eggnog Trifle Trouble (Murder in the Mix #28) - Addison Moore Page 0,44
a few fried pickles in there, too. Come to find out, they’re her specialty.”
Dr. Barnette gives a nervous laugh. “So, Lottie, how exactly did you end up airborne, and from what exactly?” She motions for me to lie down while she measures and listens to my stomach.
“Actually, it was just a silly little thing,” I start.
Carlotta barks out a laugh. “Silly if you think dangling fifty-feet off the ground from your ankle is silly. But she survived and the entire room got an eyeful of those god-awful panties she’s been wearing.”
“They were your discards, Carlotta.” It’s only fair I took her reserves. She took mine.
“Speaking of which.” She looks to the poor doctor. “Lot Lot would like a prescription to that trashy lingerie store that just opened up shop in Leeds, but she’s too embarrassed to ask. That’s why she brought me along, to ask all the tough questions.”
Dr. Barnette tips her head back as she looks at me.
Why do I get the feeling Dr. Barnette is officially the first woman to mommy shame me?
“I’m sorry, but we don’t give prescriptions for that,” she says kindly to Carlotta, but I can tell her patience is beginning to fray. “Now, Lottie. No matter what you did to get yourself in that predicament, I recommend you never do that again. A fall from that height could harm both you and the baby.”
My chest bucks as I struggle to keep my emotions in check.
“It was an accident, I swear.”
Everett takes up my hand and gives it a squeeze. “We know, Lemon,” he says it sweetly. “But we also know you didn’t need to be there.”
Noah tips his head my way as if annunciating the fact he happens to agree.
“You’re right. I didn’t need to be there,” I whisper as Dr. Barnette puts the monitor on my belly and the room explodes with the precious whomp, whomp, whomp of the baby’s beating heart.
This time I can’t stop the tears. I could have ended this precious child’s life just because I felt the need to question a suspect.
It’s clear my mothering skills are off to a lousy start.
Carlotta leans an ear this way. “The kid sounds hungry, Lot. We’d better steal a few cookies off that platter before we head on out.”
I shoot her a look. “That won’t be necessary. I have a stash in the car.”
“Everything sounds good.” Dr. Barnette helps me back to a sitting position. “The baby is measuring on track, which means he or she is about twelve inches long and weighs about two pounds. You should be feeling the baby move more regularly now. And you might even feel the baby get the hiccups. The baby will now start to respond to the sound of your voices. And lastly, let’s not forget it’s winter in Vermont, which is a slippery situation all on its own, but I’d suggest investing in a good pair of boots for yourself.”
Everett nods. “I’ll make sure that happens. My treat, Lemon. As many pairs as you like.”
“Good,” Dr. Barnette says curtly. “And, Lottie, you need to make sure you stay away from any other hazards. I trust you to use your better judgment from here on out.”
Noah lifts a finger in the air. “And maybe this is a good time to bring up the fact that sex can be harmful to the baby.”
Dr. Barnette looks momentarily confused. “No, actually, sex is quite safe. This is a good time to discuss positions that are both comfortable and beneficial for both partners.”
Noah grunts, “I’m out of here.”
“Slow down, Foxy.” Carlotta catches him before he has a chance to sail out the door. “Something tells me this is information you might need to be privy to. You never know, she might switch teams halfway through.”
Noah considers this, as I avert my eyes to Everett.
“On second thought,” Noah resumes his position next to Everett. “I think I’ll stay put.”
“See there?” Carlotta hitches her thumb his way. “That’s the look of hope in his sparkling green eyes. Don’t let him down, Lot. Fire one off his way once in a while, would ya?”
I take a moment to glare at her.
“What?” She tosses her head back as if she dares me to go there. “Right now, this baby is fifty percent Foxy’s. If you were a fair woman, you’d give Foxy fifty percent of the lovin’.”
Everett’s chest expands. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear any of that.”
Noah’s brows hitch in amusement. “I’m going to put Carlotta in my will.”