“Corn?” The friendly fowl’s head bops up and down with excitement. “That’s my favorite food. Lottie, you really should consider baking a corn cake. Or corn cookies.”
“Or corn brownies,” Carlotta adds and Everett groans.
“I don’t want to know what that conversation is about,” he says, picking up my hand and kissing the back of it.
“Ooh,” I moan, taking in the sweet scent myself. “I bet it’s cheesy jalapeño cornbread. That’s my favorite. While I was pregnant with Lyla Nell, I really broadened my culinary palate.” My chest bucks with a hiccup and the tears start flowing again. “Lyla Nell. I bet she thinks I’ve abandoned her.”
“There, there, Lot.” Carlotta slings an arm around my shoulders. “I dropped enough pamphlets from the Honey Hollow Fire Department around the house and you didn’t take the bait. That kiddo is stuck with you no matter how ruffled her feathers get.”
“It’s true on both counts,” I say. “You’ve crop-dusted the entire house with those pamphlets, and Lyla Nell is stuck with me forever.”
Carlotta drove up with Noah, Everett, and me. Mayor Nash said he’d meet us here in a bit, and as soon as Evie heard where we were headed, she and her friends zipped out this way, too. And I do mean zipped. She’s already texted me three different pictures of herself at the fairgrounds. One with a jalapeño pepper hat on, one knee-deep in a chicken coop, in which she let me know she wanted to steal a rooster to have her own Cluck Norris, and the third was of her and Conner kissing under a sign that read hot lips. Needless to say, I didn’t tell Everett about that one. No need for him to have a heart attack while he was at the driver’s wheel.
The crowds are thick, and the scent of fried food lights up our senses. It’s becoming clear Woody Hawthorne is no longer the star of this show, the food is. I plan on having just a little bit of everything, and I have a feeling that will equal a whole lot of deliciousness.
“Lyla Nell is stuck with me forever, too,” Noah says as we make our way into the festival. “So you can stop crop-dusting my house with those pamphlets as well, Carlotta. Lyla Nell isn’t going anywhere.”
Carlotta huffs, “Who says I was hinting at getting rid of Lyla Nell? There’s a certain brunette who I share a bathroom with who hogs all the hot water.” She looks to Everett. “Now that Evie Stevie has got herself a boyfriend who can drive, I bet he’d do the dirty work for you.” She smacks Everett on the gut. “I’m just teasing, Sexy. I’m keeping Evie for myself. She’s about as entertaining as my Lot Lot. And not only does she keep me young, she’s educational to have around, too. Just last night she was teaching me all about the bulletproof hater coat.”
“What’s that?” I ask.
“It’s an invisible shield you put on when people are being mean to you.”
Cluck Norris lets out a few quick buck-buck-bucks.
“I could have used one of those myself,” he says as his head juts back and forth. “Let’s just say Candace had a brother who wasn’t a fan of either hers or mine. And he definitely wasn’t an early riser.”
“Sorry to hear it,” Carlotta says. “But had I put that bulletproof hater coat on when I was back in high school, you might not be here today, Lot. Foxy and Sexy would be battling it out for Cormack.”
“Not true,” Everett is quick to contest it.
“Have it your way,” Carlotta shoots back. “Sexy would be with his baby mama. And Nell would have left the bakery to me.”
Noah shakes his head. “Not true either. Without Lottie there wouldn’t be a bakery. The Cutie Pie was her idea.”
“Wait a minute,” I say, pulling her back before she trots off for jalapeño cornbread pastures. “What does that bulletproof hater coat have to do with my existence? Don’t tell me someone bullied you into sleeping with a very married man.”
“Candace Cottonwood didn’t care that he was married. As far as she was concerned, that wedding ring was just another doohickey that made him sparkle and shine. Once Randy Candy put her mind to something, there was no stopping her.”
Everett looks her way. “Why do I get the feeling something—or more to the point, someone stopped her?”
“Darn tootin’, someone did. And that someone would be me. All that girl did was tease me and call me names. Unibrow was just the tip of the taunting iceberg, and the only name she could use in mixed company. So once I saw she had her sights set on her new tutor, I made sure he tutored me, too. And then I tutored him in a subject or two. And along came you, Lot.”
“Wow,” I muse. “I was basically born of vengeance.”
“That’s right.” Carlotta ticks her head to the side. “And boy, did I best her. Not only did I gain Harry’s attention, I struck a pot o’ gold in my belly.”
Everett lifts a brow her way. “A pot of gold you deposited at the local fire department.”
“You’re one to judge, Sexy. You and I both know Ellington is just rich people speak for fire department.”
Ellington is the boarding school where Cressida dropped Evie off and promptly forgot about her.
“You’re not wrong about Ellington,” he says. “But you’re wrong about me. I would never abandon my child.” He stares at her a moment too long and she’s staring right back at him with large, dare I say, threatening eyes.
“He wasn’t judging you, Carlotta.” I give Everett’s hand a squeeze. “He was just making a point.” I smile up at him, and yet there’s a dark look in Everett’s eyes that makes me wonder if I read the situation wrong.
Cluck Norris goes nuts clucking and flapping his wings, and I take up Noah’s hand, too, so he can hear whatever the poultry-based poltergeist has to tell us.
“Hens!” he clucks so loud my skin vibrates. “We’re close! Hold on, girls, I’m coming! Let’s head that way, Carlotta. How I miss the sweet chicks I used to tend to. I had about three dozen or so to keep me busy.”
“Hear that, Sexy?” Carlotta’s chest vibrates as she laughs. “Cluck Norris here had three dozen chicks at a time.”
“Just three?” Noah asks. “I’m pretty sure Everett has him beat by at least six dozen. Everett has been sentencing women to hard time in his bedroom as far back as his college days. Rumor has it, he was juggling two sorority houses at a time.”
Cluck Norris howls out a clucky sort of laugh. “You would have made a fine rooster, Everett.”
“He’s cocky, all right,” Noah says without missing a beat.
But I choose to ignore the cocky conversation as I take a good look at the miles of food booths they’ve got lined up on either side of the midway that cuts through the fairgrounds, and my eyes light up.
“Check it out,” I say. “Both Mangias and Wicked Wok are here.” Both places have become restaurant staples for us back in Honey Hollow.
“It looks as if Hennifer’s Fried Chicken is here, too,” Everett points out.
“Chickens!” Carlotta calls out and we veer left toward a bona fide petting zoo opening up to us. A large coop holds hundreds of birds, and up above them there’s a sign that reads Hollyhock Chicken Egg-cademy.