“You would be wrong,” I correct over Lyla Nell’s head and she dislodges and sends my left boob flopping. More gasping ensues and the flash of a camera goes off before I can get Lyla Nell back where she belongs.
Pastor Dave loses all color in his face. “Everyone, listen up,” he bellows. “Let’s say a blessing over our happy family.” He implores everyone in the room to close their eyes—I’m betting it has more to do with my impromptu peep show than it does the prayer he’s spontaneously shouting at us.
Once he’s done, he gives the floor back to us, and both Everett and Noah pray over Lyla Nell as well, vowing to guide her spiritually and emotionally through this life.
Their words are so sweet and loving, I can’t help but turn into a blubbering mess at the sound of them.
Carlotta bows her head into the microphone. “And I’d like to add—”
Pastor Dave swipes back the mic and ends the service so fast you’d think the roof just caught on fire—more like my sanity has caught fire. But then, Carlotta turned that to cinder a long time ago.
He offers the crowd an affable smile. “Please join us next door in Carlson Hall where Lottie Lemon’s own Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery has provided some delicious complimentary treats for us today. And I invite all of you to meet right back in here in an hour for the monthly business meeting. As you all know, the time has come to make a few changes around here, including appointing a new senior pastor. Our final vote is coming up in just a couple of weeks, so please make your voices heard today while there’s still time. You’ll be glad you did.”
“Darn right we will,” someone shouts from up front. “We’re not going to stand by idle while you run this place into the holy ground.”
The crowd erupts in murmurs as bodies rise and quickly drain out the back.
A woman steps boldly toward the front and offers a stern look to Pastor Dave. Her crimson locks are trimmed close to her scalp, she’s stylishly dressed in a navy pantsuit, and I recognize her as longtime resident of Honey Hollow, Terri Norris.
Terri has been to my bakery a time or two. She’s a web designer, and each time I think of asking her to redo the website for the bakery, I consider how much money I can save if I just ask Evie. I swear, it seems as if the teenagers of this world came out of the womb with a smartphone in their hand, armed with the knowledge to reprogram nuclear codes with nothing but a stream of acronyms and hashtags.
But as for Terri here, she sort of has a storied reputation. About ten years ago, she was on one of those dating shows and landed herself a handsome man. To say she was publicly obsessed with him would be putting it mildly. My mother begged my sisters and me never to lose our minds over a man that way. And trust me when I say, we took notes.
Nevertheless, the man in question quickly exited the relationship. And Terri was not only devastated, she was publicly humiliated. The poor thing’s love life has turned into a meme on the internet. Never a good sign as far as the direction your life has taken. And full disclosure, I’m shocked my own love life hasn’t been used for internet fodder.
The public arena can be so cruel—as I’ve discovered myself just a few minutes ago. I don’t know Terri all that well, but each time we’ve interacted, I’ve noticed she’s wound up pretty tightly, and right now doesn’t seem to be an exception.
She wags a finger at Pastor Dave. “I’ll be glad when you’re tossed out on your ear. You have no right to be sharing the pulpit with Pastor Cleary. Everyone knows the flock only needs one shepherd, and soon you and your newfangled ideals will be tossed to the curb.”
A woman with a caramel-colored bun calls out to Terri from the entry and Terri quickly stalks off in her direction. They step into the foyer and the woman with the bun says something to Terri that only seems to set her off all over again.
“Well then.” Pastor Dave sheds an easy laugh our way. “Judge Baxter, Detective Fox, Lottie, I implore you all to join the business meeting.” He blows out a breath. “It’s guaranteed to have more fireworks going off than the Fourth of July.” His head ticks to the side. “I’ll see you next door.”
He takes off and Carlotta scoffs.
“Anyone notice how he didn’t invite me?” She shakes her fist in his wake, and I avert my eyes.
“Carlotta, please take a step away from the baby,” I tell her. “I don’t want you close when the lightning strikes.”
Her mouth falls open. “Well, maybe you should give her to me because everyone here today knows it’s just a matter of time before the big guy upstairs tosses a few of those flashy fire sticks your way. You’re the one doing the dirty deed with half the men standing in the sanctuary.”
Everett’s cheek flickers. “We’re the only two men standing in the sanctuary.”
“Worse yet.” She tosses up her arms as she says it. “You’re sleeping with all the men standing in this sanctuary.”
“Not true,” I hiss her way as I give the women at the door the side-eye for giving me the side-eye.
“Don’t worry.” Noah lands another kiss to my cheek. “We’re not doing anything wrong, Lottie. If anything, God is on our side.”
“He means our side, Lemon.” Everett winks as he plants a firm kiss to my lips.
For as long as I can remember, Everett has almost exclusively called
