Page 60 of Twice Baked Risky Whiskey Cakes

LOTTIE

The crowd scatters before me as if I’m a human bulldozer and my pregnant belly is the wrecking ball as I try to cross the street right in the middle of the St. Patrick’s Day parade, right here in Honey Hollow.

I waddle my way through the junior high marching band with all the grace of a penguin on roller skates, one hand supporting my lower back, the other extended like a bumper to ward off potential collisions.

Carlotta trails behind me, jangling with enough parade beads to sink a small ship.

“Make way for the human incubator,” she calls out to anyone who fails to dodge quickly enough. “Two tiny humans coming through—still in their original packaging! Let’s try to keep it that way, Lot. Shall we?”

Before I can answer, Sebby materializes beside me as his ghostly fox form shimmers with excitement. “Lolita! You’re moving with the determination of a fox on a rabbit hunt. I find your waddle most dignified!”

“Thanks, Sebby,” I mutter. “Nothing saysdignifiedlike not being able to see your own feet.”

“This too shall pass,” he hums contentedly as he floats by my side. “Although there’s no guarantee it’ll pass anytime soon.”

“Or ever,” Carlotta contributes. “And it’s all your fault, Lot. You’ve coddled those kids. You keep feeding them donut after donut, and now they’re never going to leave. I went on a strict diet of booze and cigarettes when it was time to give both you and your sister an eviction notice.”

“That might explain a few things,” I sigh as I do my best to dodge an Irish band coming in hot to my right.

One of the bagpipers blasts a note so high-pitched, I swear one of the twins does a somersault in protest.

The smell of corned beef and cabbage wafts from a nearby food stand, mingling with the sugary sweetness of green cotton candy and beer that’s been dyed an unnatural shade of emerald. And my stomach growls appreciatively at all of it.

What can I say? The twins have my taste buds working overtime.

By the time we reach the opposite side of the street, my foot misses the curb by half an inch. I wobble precariously—because apparently, my center of gravity has packed its bags and moved out of state—when Venus Finnegan appears out of nowhere. She grabs my arm with surprising strength and hauls me onto the sidewalk as if she’s landing a particularly stubborn marlin.

“Lottie,” she pants with her eyes wide. “What in the world were you thinking? You nearly took a tumble there.”

“Or twelve,” I tell her, hugging my belly as a quasi-apology to the twins. “I was just hopping over to say hello.”

Venus cringes my way. “All you had to do was wave me over and I would have been there in three seconds flat.”

“You’re so kind,” I tell her. “And thanks for the save,” I say, patting my belly. “These days I’m about as graceful as an elephant trying to balance on a beach ball, and twice as dramatic when gravity gets its way.”

She gives a mournful chuckle, just as Sebby circles around Venus curiously. “The blonde one has quick reflexes! In my fox days, I would have been impressed by such hunting skills. Although not so impressed if I were to end up on her trophy wall.”

Keegan approaches with measured steps, looking as polished as ever in her designer emerald ensemble. Not a hair out of place, unlike me. I’m pretty sure I have powdered sugar in my eyebrows and frosting in places it doesn’t belong.

“Lottie,” she acknowledges me with a tight smile. “Enjoying the festivities?”

My mouth opens and closes. “Would you ladies mind if we found somewhere quieter to chat?” I nod toward a large maple tree where the crowd has thinned out and we head that way.

“Venus”—I begin once we’re settled under the branches—“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but are your siblings your full siblings or step-siblings?”

Sebby’s ghostly ears perk up a notch. “Ooh, Lolita! Direct questioning! This is just like those detective shows Sebastian used to watch. I can’t wait until you say, ‘Cuff ’em, Carlotta.’”

Carlotta nods. “And it just so happens that I travel with a pair of those on me—for recreational purposes, of course.”

Venus inches back like I’ve just asked her to help me hide a body. “They’re actually my step-siblings. Why do you ask?”

Keegan lifts her chin and her posture screams “guilty” louder than Lyla Nell when denied cookies. “Lottie, I told you I needed a chance to speak with my children. Whatever you think you know, please stop now.”

“Ha.” Carlotta is quick to laugh in the woman’s face. “Lot Lot, stopping anything?” Carlotta snorts and gestures at my pregnant belly. “Just look at her. She can’t even stop at one baby. She had to go for the two-for-one special. And don’t get me started on herdonut consumption. The woman has never met a baked good she didn’t like.”

There are no truer words.

“Thanks for that character reference, Carlotta,” I mutter before turning to face Keegan directly. “My mother confirmed that you went by the nickname Kay.” I take a moment to glance at her daughter. “I’m sorry to do this, Venus, but I’d like for your mother to answer a few questions.”

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