I wish I knew that Lottie would rotate back to me one day. What I wouldn’t do for a sign, something, a flicker of light, a whisper in the night, anything, anything at all.
The door creaks open, ushering in a flicker of light. A whisper erupts as I look back to see Lottie with her finger pressed to her lips.
“Is she okay?” she whispers as she slips onto the bed next to me, and I take in Lottie’s vanilla scent.
“She’s perfect.” I sniff back the flood of emotions ready to erupt from me.
I asked the universe for a sign, and I got Lottie Lemon herself. It doesn’t get any better than that.
It may not be tomorrow, or even another fifty years from now, but some day, some way, Lottie will be mine, too.
Lottie wraps an arm around me and smiles as if she was assuring me of this very thing.
And I do believe she is.
“I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”
She nods. “Lyla Nell and I are lucky to have you.”
I soak those words in as Lottie falls asleep right along with the baby.
I watch over them both, and I always will.
Lottie
“He is risen!” my mother calls out as she carries an arm full of pastel Easter baskets our way.
“He is risen, indeed!” Keelie and I shout out in unison just the way we have on so many Easter Sundays going back as far as preschool.
The spring air is warm and perfumed with the sweet scent of lilies as Honey Lake shimmers in the distance. It seems as if all of Honey Hollow has shown up for the festivities today. The entire shoreline and the grassy area just above that are teeming with bodies, all wearing their Sunday best.
Keelie has a blue dress on and I have a pink one, an unintentional homage to the little sugar cookies we’re holding tightly. Little Bear is dressed in a pale gray suit with a bright blue bowtie, and he looks pretty mad about it, too. And Lyla Nell is wearing a frilly pink lace number with pictures of colorful Easter eggs printed all over it. Her shoes are white patent Mary Janes that I’m pretty sure she’ll want to eat soon, and I’ve landed the biggest pink bow I could find on her head.
Lyla Nell bounces in my arms with excitement as she sees my mother headed this way and her dimples dig in deep as she shows off that toothless smile.
“Aww,” both Keelie and I coo in unison.
“Look at that, Lottie,” she says. “Had she shown us those dimples one second earlier, we wouldn’t have needed that paternity test.”
I nod. “In a way I’m glad she waited. There was a certain exchange that needed to take place, and I’d like to think Lyla Nell played a hand in that. And she played it very well, too.”
The next day after the taping, I entrusted Keelie to spread the word that Noah was indeed the father and that there was a mix-up at the show. Sure enough, the entire town had heard the news after just two hours.
Mom sets the bundle of Easter baskets down next to the tent that houses the refreshment table and the grand brunch prepared by the Honey Pot Diner, all paid for on the town’s dime, of course. It’s been a tradition to celebrate Easter together as a community for as long as I can remember. Or at least the beginning of the day. Church let out about a half hour ago and everyone came straight this way right afterwards.
“Come to Glam Glam, precious one.” My mother sighs as she extracts Lyla Nell from my arms. “Lottie, you go on and enjoy yourself. Go get some food at the buffet before all the good stuff is gone. I’ll take care of this little peanut for you.” She bounces the baby in her arms as Noah heads this way with his mother.
“Happy Easter, Miranda, Keelie.” He nods their way.
“Yes, yes,” Suze snarls. “Holiday greetings.” Leave it to Suze to say holiday greetings in lieu of the holiday greeting.
She looks over at Lyla Nell, and that sour expression on her face eases just a notch. “Since the tests were inconclusive, I think you should do a rematch.”
“It’s not a game,” Noah is quick to tell her. “And Dr. Barnette called after the show and assured us Cormack had gotten it backwards. She wasn’t going to let her get away with that.”
“And I was thankful,” I tell him. “But I’m glad I caught it anyway.”
“Me, too.” He wraps an arm around my shoulders and gives me a squeeze. “Where’s Everett?”
“He said he had to get something from the car.” I crane my neck toward the parking lot and spot Carlotta and Mayor Nash heading this way. He’s wearing a tan suit and Carlotta has on something far too short and tight. My guess is she stole it out of Evie’s closet.
“Would you excuse me?” I say as I make my way over to them and meet them halfway. “Happy Easter,” I say to the two of them.
“Happy Easter, Lot.” Carlotta pats her belly. “It’s my favorite holiday after Thanksgiving because of all the good eats. Deviled eggs, deviled ham, lamb, roast, and all the mashed potatoes and gravy I can handle.” She grunts, “I picked a lousy time to wear one of Evie’s castoffs.”
Knew it.
“But”—she holds up a finger—“I can always cut myself out of it later.”
Mayor Nash chuckles. “That’s what I love about you, Carlotta. Always with the forward-thinking.” He taps the side of his head before looking my way. “Happy Easter, Lottie.” He offers me a forlorn smile.
“You’ve come out of hiding, and at such a public venue,” I say. “I’m proud of you.”
He nods. “I figure I can’t hide forever. Besides, if anything happens to me, the sheriff’s department will know where to find the culprits.” His entire body sags as he looks to me. “We had a good run, kid. You won’t believe how
