soul that I cannot wait to meet.”
Flo floats over to the screen, and a whimper emits from her as she touches the area depicting the baby’s chubby little cheek.
“I can’t wait to meet my baby, too, Lottie. In paradise, of course.” A lone tear rolls down her face as bright as a falling star. “We’re going to find the bastard that did this to me—that did this to my baby—and then we’re going to kill them.”
She up and disappears in a puff of smoke, and Everett, Noah, and I exchange a glance.
“Look, look.” Dr. Barnette draws our attention back to the screen just as the baby opens its mouth.
Another cry comes from me as my sweet little sugar cookie gives a full-fledged yawn.
The four of us break out into laughter, in tears, and Dr. Barnette assures us she’ll give us each a recording of the ultrasound to play back whenever we like. Soon, the session is over, and the lights are back on.
“Okay, Lottie”—Dr. Barnette starts—“have you booked your birthing classes?”
“I sure did, a few weeks back when you suggested them. They start up next month.”
“Perfect.” She grins to the three of us. “I’m assuming you’ve both signed on as coaches?”
“That we have,” Noah is quick to say. “And I’m looking forward to it.”
Everett nods. “As am I.” He looks my way. “You’re going to do great, Lemon.”
“I hope so.” I shudder at the thought of going through so much pain. “Women have been giving birth since the beginning of time, right?” I look to Dr. Barnette for some encouraging words of comfort.
“True,” she says. “But for each woman, the first time is the first time. Birth can be a very painful, stressful, bloody event.”
“Gee, thanks.” I shoot her a look.
She gives a quick blink. “Lottie, have you seen a live birth?”
“Well, no. I mean, Keelie and Lainey both had their babies last August. And Noah delivered Keelie’s baby, but by the time I got there, he was already holding him in his hands. And I wasn’t in the room when Lainey actually delivered. I was there for some of it, but then I stepped out to use the restroom and out popped Josie.” I shrug.
“Well, since you and Essex haven’t been privy to it yet, I suggest you watch some live births. They have an entire slew on the internet, but I have a few I recommend.”
Yes, Dr. Barnette has earned the right to call Everett by his proper moniker, but even though they’ve been intimate, I don’t hold it against her. She’s just another in a long line of women, and I’ve made peace with that.
“I’ll shoot you the link, Lottie.”
“Perfect,” I say, looking to Everett and Noah. “Maybe we can pick up some Wicked Wok and watch after dinner? I can whip up some waffles for dessert.”
“Sounds like a winning combination to me,” Everett says as he helps me sit up. “Can’t wait.”
Noah and Dr. Barnette share a smile that suggests they’re in on something, and I have a hunch they are.
I already know I won’t like what I see tonight, but ready or not, this baby is going to make its debut in March—and I choose to be ready.
Now to stuff my face with Chinese food and forget about my troubles for a little while.
Flo bounces through my mind and that entire debacle concerning her corpse.
On second thought, my worries are rather hard to forget.
In keeping with the plan, we quickly load up on buckets of Wicked Wok.
I may have forcefully yet lovingly made sure Everett ordered twice as much as we usually do, but only because I’m so hungry I almost ate the receipts in my purse on the way home. Teaches me to leave the house without enough fried pickles to last the day. I had a couple of chocolate croissants and a few cheese Danishes in my lunch sack today, and I still was ravenous by the time we hit Country Cottage Road, the cute little street we live on.
Evie and Carlotta join us for the feast while Pancake and Waffles, my sweet cats, along with Noah’s golden retriever, Toby, watch from the sofa.
“I’m so glad the case is finally over,” I say to Evie. “Now we can focus on going out and getting our nails done and setting up hair appointments and maybe buying some pretty baubles to go with your dress. When is the Winter Formal again, anyway?”
“Tomorrow.” She shrugs. “And I’m painting my nails myself and doing my own hair.”
Carlotta