34. Lottie

LOTTIE

" I t's time for dessert," I call out as I make my way to the dining room carrying one of my glorious plum puddings—steamed to a candied-fruit perfection, not to mention the sugar sweet eggnog frosting. "Merry Christmas!"

It's Christmas night, and a delicious dinner was just had right here in my home where we happily noshed on smoked turkey, prime rib, dreamy mashed potatoes, and the most scrumptious mac and cheese casserole—an addition that Evie made herself.

My mother and Wily are here, as are Lainey, Forest, and little Josie. Meg and Hook came over, along with Sam and Jed. And believe me, it was no small miracle that Noah and Everett were civil to the man.

Claret Berkshire, my recently discovered grandmother, is in attendance. She's not only a best-selling self-help author, but she's as gorgeous as can be. Carlotta and Mayor Nash are here, too, mostly smooching under the mistletoe now that they're an exclusive item.

Suze is here, poo-pooing just about everything we have to offer, and Noah is right there next to her trying to mop up all of her verbal messes. She showed up late this evening and has spent most of the night peeking out the front window and acting anti-social for the most part. In other words, totally herself.

Noah's brother Alex has joined us, along with Lily and baby Levi—who is celebrating his very first Christmas.

Lyla Nell has determined that Levi is her baby, and she's taken very good care of him this evening—even if she did try to stick a candy cane up his nose. Thankfully, my mother caught it before Lyla Nell lobotomized the tiny cutie. And oddly, he's been trying to get his hands back on that candy cane ever since.

The Christmas tree in the corner of our living room sparkles with hundreds of tiny twinkle lights, its branches sagging slightly under the weight of handmade ornaments that Lyla Nell and Evie adorned it with.

The laughter and chatter from dinner still linger in the air, mixing with the faint strains of "Silent Night" playing in the background.

I land the platter of steamed plum pudding onto the table just as Lainey and Meg help land an assortment of pies and cookies to the table as well. The festive aroma of cinnamon and nutmeg fills the room, drawing a spontaneous applause from everyone gathered.

" Ooh, I forgot the knife," I say. "But please dive into those cookies and brownies. They're not going to eat themselves."

Everett and Noah make their way over from the fireplace with pensive expressions.

"Lemon," Everett says. "Would you mind if we spoke to you for a minute?"

"I'll get the knife," Meg says, waddling back into the kitchen before I can stop her.

"Sure, what is it?" I ask as they lead me toward the Christmas tree, well out of earshot from the jovial crowd.

Pancake and Waffles are napping on the tops of the sofas. And Toby is curled up on the hearth next to the crackling fire.

We've all had such a busy day, starting at five in the morning when Lyla Nell and Evie raced down the stairs to see what Santa had brought them. I called Noah and he came right over in time to see the wrapping paper fly. I made coffee and warmed up some cinnamon rolls that I brought home from the bakery last night, and a good time was had by all.

"Lemon"—Everett clears his throat as the glow from the fire casts shadows across his face—"I think it's time I let you in on something." The seriousness in his voice slices right through the holiday cheer.

"Darn right, it's time," I say as my heart begins to race, and one of the twins gives me a kick in the ribs for good measure. "I could hardly sleep last night because of whatever this is."

Although some of that—okay, most of that—had to do with the fact that I accidentally wrapped Lyla Nell's pacifier up in one of the gifts. I was worried sick she was going to be up all night crying for it, but instead she was up all night asking for Santa.

I'll admit, it was adorable to hear her little voice saying Sansa here? Sansa? You here yet? all night long, over and over again. I'm guessing she's not so afraid of him anymore—or at least the thought of him.

We left out cookies and carrots for the big elf and his reindeer before bedtime, and I'm afraid that got her all wound up. That and the fact she had about three sugar cookies before I took her upstairs, which was completely my fault. An overload of sugar is pretty much a hazard when your mother is a baker.

I shake all thoughts of my sleepless night out of my head—and nearly pass out from the effort, I'm so dizzy with fatigue.

"What is it, Everett?"

Everett and Noah exchange a glance.

"The clock is ticking, buddy," Noah says.

"What do you mean the clock is ticking ?" I look from him to Everett. "Somebody say something. Is this about that wrongful life suit? Has Harper done something else? Something far more outrageous? Oh gosh, she's put a hit on the family, hasn't she? Some of those kids will do anything for likes and subscribers."

"Actually"—Everett attempts a mournful smile—"I did get news from Harper. She's dropped the wrongful life suit. The lawsuit is off the table."

"Oh wow, well, that's a relief," I say. "I think we can all breathe easy now. Why in the world didn't you tell me that sooner? I thought for sure there was something far more nefarious in the works." I grip my belly. "I've got far too many hormones coursing through me. My mind tends to run dark these days."

"It's not just that," Everett says. "Noah had a friend from the FBI help to see if I tested as a paternal match at any of the other DNA sites."

"Oh my gosh," I pant as a tsunami of thoughts hits me all at once, and each of those thoughts is being delivered by a stork—an entire army of storks to be exact. "How many more kids do you have? Just rip the bandage off, Everett. I don't think I can take the suspense. Should we add another wing onto the house?"

The two of them exchange another look, and I sense trouble.