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I delivered Lyla Nell right over in the glass conservatory in front of a cast of thousands.
“Cormack isn’t due for a couple more weeks, so we should be safe for tonight,” I assure him. “Although, she did put this baby shower off for so long, we’re certainly cutting it close.” I glance behind the two of them. “Where are little Lea and Thirteen?”
Lea would be the six-year-old ghost of a little girl whose family was slaughtered on the premises once upon a time. She stalks the place with a machete in hand in an effort to exact revenge in their honor.
About a year ago or so, Greer and Winslow adopted Lea as their own. And Thirteen would be their adorable talking black cat.
“That’s what I remembered.” Teeny Weenie gives a sharp bark. “I just remembered that I didn’t care for cats. I’m not sure why Pancake and Waffles didn’t jar the memory of my ire toward the feline persuasion.”
Carlotta nods. “That’s because Pancake and Waffles are a couple of furry rats in disguise. The walnut here hasn’t figured that out yet.”
I roll my eyes.
“Regardless,” Weenie continues. “As soon as I saw Thirteen, I did my best to chase him right out of the building.”
“That’s only somewhat true,” Winslow says. “Thirteen left voluntarily. He’s out in the rose garden waiting for the hormonal hurricane to pass. His words, not mine. And speaking of waiting for things to pass, have Noah and Everett opted out of this evening’s shenanigans?”
“Hardly,” I say. “We had to take separate cars, since I came from the bakery. They’re probably still on their way. You’ll see them soon enough. But for the record, I’m sure they’d rather join Thirteen in the rose garden waiting for the hormonal hurricane to pass as well.”
“And that’s where you’ll find me,” he says. “Excuse me, ladies.” He tips his head our way before disintegrating to nothing. “It seems I’m allergic to showers of this nature.”
“He’s such a man,” Greer says, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, I’d better go find Charlie. She has a few big surprises for Cormack, and so do I.” Greer flies right through my body, leaving an icy chill in her wake.
“Hey, hold up there, Greedy Greer,” Carlotta calls out after her. “Dog-napping in progress,” she shouts as she takes off in that direction. “I repeat, dog-napping in progress!”
I shake my head at Carlotta as she causes a commotion while I swim my way upstream past all of the polished people lining the hall on my way to the conservatory.
The conservatory is a glass structure that was added on a few years back by my favorite contractor, Bear Fisher.
My mother has the woods that surround this room decked out with twinkle lights, and it adds the exact enchanted element this magical room needs—especially at this time of day when the sun has left the remnant of an orange glow against the lavender night sky.
The Polynesian music is a touch too loud, the room is a touch too crowded, and the buffet table looks a touch too delicious. As it should, considering Charlie has catered the event via the Honey Pot Diner.
I spot Keelie, Meg, and Lainey chatting by the dessert table, so I head on over.
“Lottie Lemon,” Lainey says with her eyes agog. “That triple-tiered pineapple upside-down wonder is amazing!”
Meg nods. “And bringing along pineapple upside-down cupcakes that people can nosh on before we cut the cake is genius.”
Keelie wraps an arm around my shoulders. “That’s my bestie, a bona fide genius. That’s why she’s going to side with me.” She nods my way as if willing me to do it. “Lainey and I are at odds over which preschool to enroll the kids in—traditional or Montessori. What do you say, Lottie?”
“What’s the difference?” I ask.
“Montessori is for hippies,” Meg informs me.
“Is not.” Lainey steps on Meg’s toe. Not that it did any good, the woman has on her combat boots. “It merely creates an environment that fosters free spirits.”
I think on it a moment.
“Haven’t both of your kids been enrolled in preschool since they were a week old?” I’m pretty sure I’m right.
“That’s not the point,” Lainey says. “Besides, I want Josie and Lyla Nell to be together. I need to know your thoughts on this.”
“Same.” Keelie nods.
I’m about to answer when Evie pops up and gives me a half-hug, effectively pulling me like a pretzel to the left as Keelie tugs me to the right.
“What’s up, chicas?” Evie says, bouncing up and down.
