Chapter 7
Everett
It’s the morning after the homicide at the circus, and Lemon had an emergency at the bakery, something about a shipment mix-up and two employees calling in sick, so I decided the kids and I would join her.
I let Haley know to bring the twins here instead of the house.
And now my eye keeps twitching toward the door in anticipation.
I love my girls, even if I did just discover them recently. I love them as fiercely as I love Evie, Lyla Nell, and the boys. Fatherhood is something I never expected to be good at, but it turns out wanting to be better is half the battle. The other half is showing up.
And right now, I’m about to show up for a week of teenage chaos.
The bakery hums with a steady stream of bodies, each customer champing at the bit to get their hands on one of Lemon’s oversized animal cracker cookies.
I’m currently seated at a table watching Lyla Nell play with a seal balancing a ball on its nose and a poodle in a tutu before she bites the heads off both of them with disturbing precision.
I make a mental note never to cross her.
Lemon’s mother, Miranda, is at the next table with Lainey, and they’ve got the twins in their stroller, taking turns cooing at them as if they were the eighth and ninth wonders of the world.
They would be right.
Carlotta is seated next to me, making quick work of half a dozen glazed crullers. I’ve opted for black coffee. For some reason, my stomach is in knots.
“What’s got your goat, Sexy?” Carlotta bites down on another donut, powdered sugar coating her lips. “You look like you’re about to face a firing squad. They’re just two teenage scream queens. How bad could it be?”
I don’t answer. I’ve sentenced grown men with less dread than I feel facing a week with two thirteen-year-olds.
Lily Swanson, a brunette who tried hard to land me a few years back but thankfully I evaded, comes over and refreshes my coffee. She’s got a knowing smirk on her face, the one that says she’s about to enjoy this.
“So I hear you’ve got the kids all week,” she says, her voice dripping with amusement. “All five of them.”
“Six if you count Evie Stevie,” Carlotta garbles out the words through a mouthful of donut. “But then, she’s got her BFF and her boy toy to keep her occupied. So I guess five it is.” She looks my way. “How hard do you think it is to keep five kids alive for a week?”
“I plead the Fifth.” Truth be told, I’m afraid to answer it.
“Regardless,” Lily goes on. “That’s brave.”
“Brave or foolish,” I mutter.
“Oh, definitely foolish.” She grins. “Good luck with that, Judge.” She somehow manages to make the word judge sound like an insult, and I take another sip of coffee.
Suze is suspiciously quiet behind the counter as she works alongside Effie Canelli, a mobster’s niece that I’m still not entirely sure I trust. Though she seems nice enough. Efficient, at least. I’ve sentenced enough of her extended family to know the work ethic is genetic.
Carlotta leans in. “You’re not actually afraid of two thirteen-year-old yip-yaps, are you?”
“I’m not afraid,” I say, though the tightness in my chest suggests otherwise. “I’m just calculating the variables.”
“The variables?” Carlotta snorts. “Sexy, you’re a judge, not a scientist. Relax. Kids are easy. You feed them, water them, give them a sip or two of vodka, and keep them from setting things on fire. Done.”
I give her a look. It’s the same look I give defendants right before I deny bail.
“Okay, fine,” she amends. “They’re not easy. But you’ve got an entire prison system at your disposal. Make use of it, would you?”
Despite Carlotta’s beliefs, I don’t have the prison system at my disposal. The most I can do at home is sentence them to bedtime.
The door jingles, and in walks Haley with the girls in tow. Neither Ava nor Olivia looks thrilled to be here.
I stand to greet them, and Lemon swoops over just as the exchange takes place. Two hot pink suitcases are wheeled under the table where I’m sitting, and Lemon hugs Haley while Haley thanks me profusely.
“You have no idea how much this means to me,” Haley says, her voice tight with relief. “I’ll be back next Sunday to pick them up. And seriously, thank you. Both of you.”
She’s out the door before I can respond, and it all suddenly feels real.
I turn to the girls. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Ava says, not looking up from her phone.
Olivia doesn’t even acknowledge me.
A strong start. I’ve presided over arraignments with warmer receptions. Although, they were pretty glad to see me last night. A teenager’s enthusiasm, it turns out, has a shorter shelf life than I anticipated.
Lemon brings them a stack of donuts, chocolate glazed, their favorite, and they begrudgingly take a seat near the window, still staring at their phones as if the screens hold the secrets to the universe.
Lemon leans in close, her voice low. “So what do you think we should do on our very first day? We definitely want them to feel at home with us.”
I’m about to answer when my phone pings. I frown at the screen, reading the message twice to make sure I’m not misreading it.
“What is it?” Lemon asks, her voice already laced with concern.
“It’s the courthouse. A judge just called in with the flu. It looks like I’m up to bat again.”
“What?” She gasps, her eyes going wide. “But you’re off this week.”
“I know.” I rake a hand through my hair. “I’m sorry, Lemon. I’ll try my best to make this quick. Will you be okay?”
“Yes. Sure. No problem.” She gives a little laugh, and it’s more of a hysterical laugh than anything that exudes confidence.
My phone pings again, and I close my eyes. “My next case starts in thirty minutes.”
Lemon’s face goes pale.
I stand, grab my jacket from the back of the chair, and kiss her forehead. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise.”
She nods, but I can see the panic creeping in at the edges.
I glance at the girls, still glued to their phones, completely oblivious to the chaos they’re about to unleash, and then at Lyla Nell, who’s now trying to climb into the display case.
This is lousy timing. Not only am I about to look like the world’s worst father for abandoning Lemon on day one, but I’m about to feel like it too.