Chapter 29 Lottie
LOTTIE
Everett and I emerge from the woods and step back into the garden party. He looks like a judge who just wrestled justice to the ground. I look like I’ve been rolling around in dirt and leaves, which I absolutely have.
The sun warms out back, slanting through the maple trees and making everything look extra golden.
The air smells like fresh grass and dessert—lemon bars, chocolate cake, and approximately three hundred servings of banana pudding.
Jazz plays softly from wherever Mom hid the speakers, and the fountain bubbles away like nothing dramatic just happened twenty yards into the woods.
Which is very Honey Hollow, honestly.
Women in vintage dresses cluster in groups, sipping lemonade and iced tea, their laughter floating in the spring breeze. Most of them have no idea that a double murderer just got arrested behind them in the woods.
I’m still catching my breath, half from running, half from the sheer adrenaline of tackling a killer in kitten heels, when Mom appears through the crowd, pushing the double stroller with my sweet baby boys inside.
And my mother is not alone.
There’s a young woman beside her with long dark hair that catches the sunlight, brilliant blue eyes, and an effortless beauty that makes strangers do double takes. She’s wearing jeans and a soft pink sweater, and she’s holding Lyla Nell tight.
“Oh my goodness! Evie!” I gasp as I lunge her way.
Lyla Nell squeals as she reaches for me. “Lottie! Lottie! I missed you!”
“Happy Mother’s Day to the best mother ever!” Evie shouts, and before I know it, she’s hugging me so tight I can barely breathe.
“Evie.”
She’s finally home from college and apparently here to make me cry on a day when I’ve already been emotionally compromised by a double murder confession and some serious forest wrestling.
“Evie!” I pull back to look at her, my heart doing that swelling thing that makes my chest feel too small. “What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming home until—”
“Surprise!” She grins, and she’s got Everett’s smile—the one that makes you feel like everything’s going to be okay even when the world is upside down.
“Finals are done, and I couldn’t miss Mother’s Day with you.
Plus, I heard there was a murder to solve, and I wanted to make sure you didn’t get yourself killed. ”
“Too late,” I mutter. “I almost did. Like ten minutes ago. But I caught the killer.”
“Of course, you did,” she says with a laugh. “Would it even be a holiday in Honey Hollow if you didn’t narrowly escape death?”
“I haven’t had one yet.”
Noah jogs over from the direction of the house, slightly out of breath. “Ivy Fairbanks is graciously taking over for me.” He offers Evie a quick hug, and Lyla Nell jumps straight into his arms. “She said, and I quote, ‘Go enjoy your family, Fox. You’ve earned it.’”
“I’ll bake her a cake as a thank you,” I say.
“If you’re passing them out, I’ll happily take one, too,” Noah says with a wink.
“Lottie, bake Daddy cake!” Lyla Nell chimes, and we all share a little laugh. A very little laugh on my part.
“I’ll bake your daddy all the cakes he wants,” I say, stealing a kiss off her nose.
“We’ve got something for you, Mom!” Evie bounces on her toes like she’s got springs in her shoes and pulls a pink gift bag from behind her back. “It’s something we’ve been working on.”
“Oh, Evie.” I sniff as she hands me the bag. “I’m going to cry.” And I’m not kidding. I can feel it coming like a sneeze I can’t seem to stop.
“Presents!” Carlotta appears at my elbow, still in her turquoise vacuum-sealed dress, looking like she’s had the time of her life this afternoon.
And, knowing Carlotta, she probably has.
“I love watching people open presents. The tears, the drama, the fake gratitude when they get something ugly. It’s free entertainment. ”
“Thanks, Carlotta. That’s very supportive.”
“That’s what I’m here for, Lot Lot. Now, let’s see the loot.”
Percy materializes on the edge of the stroller, fanning out his magnificent tail feathers, and it’s like a hundred blue eyes are suddenly fixed in my direction.
“Gift-giving! How delightful. This should be emotionally devastating in the best possible way. Have you thought of pairing it with a trifle? Nothing says I love you quite like layers of cake, custard, and maternal guilt. Possibly sponge cake,” he adds. “It absorbs the feelings.”
Carlotta lifts her chin his way. “You’re not helping, hot stuff.”
“I’m a ghost, honey. Helping is optional. Entertainment is mandatory.”
“You did not need to do this,” I say to Evie as I hold the cute pink bag close. “I certainly hope you didn’t spend a bundle.”
“We didn’t spend anything more than our time,” Evie says with a warm smile. “Lyla Nell and I made this together. Well, I did most of it. She mostly bossed me around and ate paint.”
“I no eat paint!” Lyla Nell protests from Noah’s arms. “I taste paint! Paint so delicious!”
Both Everett and Noah groan at the thought.
I pull out the card—construction paper with glitter glue around the edges that’s already adhering to my fingers—and inside are two perfect little footprints in blue and green paint. Ozzy and Corbin, their names written underneath in Evie’s neat handwriting.
To the World’s Best Mommy, Thank you for being you.
And just like that, my heart melts on cue as I dissolve into an emotional puddle right there in my mother’s garden while wearing a vintage dress and covered in forest debris.
“Oh, you guys,” I whisper, my throat doing that tight thing that means tears are approximately three seconds away.
“Open the gift!” Evie urges, jumping up and down with excitement.
“Presents, Lottie!” Lyla Nell shouts, garnering a few laughs from nearby guests.
None from me. I’m too busy trying not to cry in front of half the Daughters of Honey Hollow.
I reach into the pink bag and pull out something bundled in pink tulle. It’s heavier than I expected. Solid and strangely smooth.
“What is this?” I ask as I unwrap it carefully.
And once I see it, a breath hitches in my throat.
Stones.
Five smooth, polished white stones.
The same five stones I collected from the blue velvet box.
Bernard Thornbury’s memorial stones.
“Oh! Oh no.”
“Oh yes!” Evie says, beaming as if she just presented me with the Hope Diamond—five of them. “I found those rocks at the house and Lyla Nell and I had the idea to paint little messages on them for you. Aren’t they cute?”
I stare at the stones in both wonder and horror.
One is painted to look like a sunflower with BEST MOM written in cheerful yellow letters.
Another is a butterfly with WE LOVE YOU in purple and pink.
A third is a ladybug with YOU’RE AMAZING in bright red with little black dots.
The fourth is a sparkling unicorn with LYLA NELL painted across it in rainbow letters and approximately seventeen coats of glitter.
And the fifth has EVIE written in elegant script surrounded by tiny painted hearts.
They’re beautiful. Precious. The kind of handmade gift that mothers treasure forever and display on mantels and get emotional about every time they look at them.
They’re also a dead man’s ashes turned into decorative rocks.
I look up at Noah and Everett with wild eyes.
They both shrug, clearly as horrified and amused as I am, but also trying very hard not to laugh.
I shrug back, because what else can I do?
“Thank you,” I say with my voice only slightly strangled. “This is the most precious gift I’ve ever received. I’ll be sure to put these in an extra special place.”
Like a sealed box. In the attic. Behind the Christmas decorations. Where no one will ever find them and I can pretend this didn’t happen.
Okay, scratch that. I think Bernard Thornbury just achieved a place of the highest honor in our home, in the middle of the mantel.
“Well, aren’t those adorable,” Carlotta says, inspecting them with delight. “Really captures the spirit of everlasting love.” She lowers her voice. “And the man still rocks the room. Literally.”
“Carlotta,” I warn.
“What? I’m being honest! Bernard is finally a solid choice. Get it? Solid?” She grins at her own joke. “He used to be kind of flaky, but now he’s rock-solid. Dependable. Grounded. I bet he won’t crack under pressure.”
“I’m begging you to stop.”
“Bernard’s got good bone structure now. Well, mineral structure. You know what I mean.”
“I absolutely do not.”
“You can’t deny he’s a gem.” She winks. “Although he is a bit dull-looking.”
“Please stop talking.”
“Never.”
Percy flutters up from the stroller, his spectral form shimmering in the afternoon light like he’s been dipped in stardust.
“Well, Lottie Lemon, I must be off. Mother Vivi is waiting for me on the other side, and I’m quite excited to see her.
She’ll want to know all about her killer being caught—she does so love being right about everything.
” He pauses as his tail feathers fan out in a shower of brilliant blue stars.
“Do try to stay out of trouble, Lottie. Though we both know you won’t.
Trouble follows you like flies to honey.
Or corpses to you, as it were. Just promise me you’ll be careful.
What’s left of my spectral nerves can’t handle another cast-iron skillet incident.
Murder investigations are rather like soufflés.
Poke them too hard and the whole thing collapses. Usually onto a corpse.”
“Especially if you’re me.” I nod. “It was nice meeting you, Percy.”
“It was an exceptional honor meeting you, Lottie Lemon. Happy Mother’s Day, honey. You’re doing a marvelous job with those tiny humans. Even the bossy one.” He winks at Lyla Nell, and she waves like mad right back, calling out, “Mine, mine, mine!” all the while.
And then he’s gone in a shimmer of blue stars, and I’m standing there holding painted memorial stones and trying not to think about the fact that I’ve just been given a dead man for Mother’s Day.