Peach Cobbler Confessions by Addison Moore Page 0,13
bakery.
Carlotta has been living with me ever since we discovered that my late grandma Nell’s home—the home Carlotta was frolicking around in and throwing drunken orgies in—was covered in black mold. Keelie’s husband, Bear, has taken on the project, and last I checked, he took the old house down to the studs. But now with his new baby at the doorstep, I doubt he’ll get around to finishing Nell’s old place any time soon. I’m guessing Carlotta will be living with me far longer than a few more months. She’s sort of my quirky cross to bear.
After Everett left for work this afternoon, I took off to the local clinic and had them give me a thorough checkup, which mostly consisted of me peeing in a cup. It turns out, I am not expecting a baby, which is no surprise to me, but the doctor was kind enough to take my blood work and have it sent off to a lab to see if they can pinpoint what was making me so sick.
Of course, I didn’t tell Everett where I was going. He made me a stack of his delicious pancakes and coffee this morning and made sure I ate breakfast in bed. Noah dropped off a few red roses he picked from his garden, told me he loved me, and planted a kiss on my cheek before leaving for the station this morning as well. And they’ve both sent alarmingly sweet text messages to me for the last few hours, declaring how happy they are to be expecting a baby with me. It’s clear I’ll have to talk to them in person this evening and straighten this whole Carlotta-inspired mess out. And strangely, it feels as if I’ll be disappointing the two of them in the process.
The Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery is bustling this afternoon as I step on in and I can’t help but smile as I take it all in. Nell gifted this place to me after the space became available. I worked as the baker for her restaurant, the Honey Pot Diner, the one in which my bakery has shared a wall with for years.
The Honey Pot Diner is magical, with its large resin oak tree planted right in the middle of the restaurant. Its twinkle light strewn branches extend over the ceiling and make their way over the ceiling of my café as well. That, along with the butter yellow walls and mismatched pastel furniture, gives the bakery a homey yet fairy-tale appeal.
“Lottie?” Lily Swanson, my right-hand girl here at the bakery, waves me over with a look of relief. “Thank God you’re here. We’re running low on peach cobbler. And might I suggest this go-around you make them smaller so we can sell them individually? People are wanting to buy it by the slice and it’s not exactly the easiest thing to cut.”
“You bet. I’ll make them in cupcake parchment like we did for the awards ceremony.”
“Oh, and your mother called. She said she wanted to know your due date because she and Wiley are thinking about taking a cruise next spring.” She wrinkles her nose my way. “Congratulations on the baby. I knew you were expecting. Nobody eats that many sweets for no good reason. And your stomach looks as if you’re six months already.”
My mouth falls open. “No, it does not. Take that back, Lily.” I swat her with my apron before I put it on.
“Well, it’s been longer than six months that I’ve seen this coming. You’re married to Everett, having Noah’s baby—I’ve seen this movie, Lottie.”
“Yeah? Well, I just came from the doctor's office. I’m not having anyone’s baby, and I never was. How’s that for a plot twist? I’m just a victim of one of Carlotta’s ridiculous rumors. And now both Noah and Everett are going to be hurt because of it.”
Lily sighs. “I guess you’re right. The men I date would probably be relieved, but my guess is Noah really wants this as a means to get you back—and hold onto you forever. And Essex?” I frown over at her. Yes, Lily was one of many that have done the deed with Everett, thus garnering her the right to use his name in vain. “I’ve never seen that man so in love.”
“Essex in love?” a female voice swoons from behind and I turn, only to jump at the ghostly sight of Collette Jenner in that same skintight red dress she dropped dead in.
“You!” I try to grab