Death of the Family Recipe (A Scotti Fitzgerald Murder Mystery Book 3) (2 page)

He kissed my neck. "That’s why God invented takeout, honey."

I sighed and turned for the door. "Okay baby, but I can’t live here until you have a kitchen again, right?"

He followed me into the living room. "What do you mean?"

I plopped onto the big leather sofa and propped my feet on the coffee table. "What do you mean, what do I mean? I make pies for a living. If I don’t have a kitchen I don’t have a business. Do I?"

Ted’s face fell. "Oh." He plopped onto the sofa next to me. "I was so excited about making you a new kitchen, I forgot about that part." He shrugged and grabbed my foot. "Guess we’ll have to step up the production." He massaged my arch with his thumb. "We’ll get it done."

His nonchalance about the major undertaking made me doubt he and his brothers had built anything more serious than a bunk bed. "Honey, you do know how long it takes to gut a kitchen and remodel it, right? At least a couple of months." I threw up my arms. "And it’s going to cost a fortune."

Ted patted my foot. "Nah, we can do it in a few weeks. We’ve built stuff before. Plenty of times." He tickled my foot. "We can afford it."

I pulled my foot away. "We can, huh?"

He gave me a smacking kiss on the cheek. "Yep, we have a house fund. I’ve been squirreling money away for years."

I was glad the new kitchen wouldn’t bankrupt us, but I was still worried about the timetable. "So while we’re planning a wedding, getting married and going on a honeymoon, remodeling the kitchen is a piece of cake?"

Ted frowned because I was ruining all his fun. "Right. There is that." He leaned back and went through the logistics in his head. "We’ll have to accelerate the timetable."

I didn’t like the sound of that or the idea that Ted would show up at the altar in carpenter pants and a tool belt. "Or we could put off the wedding until the baby is born."

Ted’s head snapped toward me and he shook his head. "Oh no, you’re not backing out now. We definitely aren’t waiting until the baby is born."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Who said I was trying to back out?" I squinted at him. "But know this — I’m not walking down the aisle with a basketball for a stomach."

He puckered his lips and did more mental calculations. "Okay, okay, let me think."

I sneezed and my stomach growled. "And the baby isn’t crazy about the plaster dust either." I giggled. "But she is asking about chili dogs."

We continued the discussion all the way to Pink’s Hot Dogs in West Hollywood. We sat outside on the back patio for privacy and because it was a perfect summer night. And as I blew through three chili dogs, a side of fries and rings, two cream sodas and two pieces of chocolate marble cake, Ted had a cup of coffee. He watched in horror as I gobbled my way across the menu, leaving not a crumb, drip, or dribble behind. I burped and grinned. "We should probably think of some boys names too, don’t you think?" I rubbed my belly. "Maybe it’s not a girl."

Ted creased his brow. "Or the baby is going to take after Zelda."

I stuffed the trash into the takeout carton and pushed it aside. "We can’t blame this on Zelda." I patted my tummy. "We made this monster growing inside of me, and it’s hungry."

Ted raised his brows. "Still?"

I flapped my hands at him. "Ted, we have to get serious about this stuff. We need a schedule, a plan, a strategy. For once, I wish we had your whiteboard."

Ted checked his watch and frowned. "Now? Let’s take a few days to sort it out."

I laughed but more from nerves than mirth. "We don’t have a few days. Your mother and five brothers will probably show up at your house tomorrow, wanting to talk about the wedding. Or they’ll show up at my house on Sunday to talk about the wedding. If we don’t have a plan by then, we’re sunk." I shook my head. "I thought we could wait to tell them about the baby, but Zelda knows." I frowned at him. "And you know how she is with secrets. It’ll be front page news by Monday if we don’t do something."

Ted got a haunted look and gulped. "If we leave now, we can be in Vegas by morning."

I walked the trash to the dumpster and tossed it. "Get married in a cheesy chapel with Elvis as the minister? Definitely, not an option."

Ted’s voice cracked. "Are you sure?"

My attention was drawn to a tall woman standing at the edge of the building. She stayed in shadows and I saw a flash of silvered hair as she turned and walked away. I stared after her, feeling an odd sense of dread.

"Scotti?"

I turned back to Ted, then returned to the table and shouldered my bag. "I finally got your family to like me. Now you’re suggesting I take the joy of planning your wedding away from them? Do I look suicidal to you?"

<<>>

By dawn, we had a plan. Since the baby was due in mid-May, and I wanted to get married without a baby bump we slated the wedding for November 15
th.
That gave us six weeks to plan the wedding, five days for a bed and breakfast style honeymoon and a return home just in time for Thanksgiving.

Ted caved on handling the kitchen remodel himself and agreed to hire a crew to do the job. His brothers could help, and Dave could supervise. But the construction would have to continue seven days a week, so it would be finished when we returned from our honeymoon.

After a lot of foot stomping and teeth gnashing, we agreed there was no plausible explanation for the short wedding date except the truth. Like it or not, we’d break the news about the baby at the Monday night family dinner — three days away.

As we dragged ourselves up the stairs I said, "When our daughter asks me about the night you proposed, I doubt this is the story she’ll expect to hear."

Ted shrugged. "You could just tell her about the good parts."

I laughed. "All the parts are good, honey. Because they’re us."

Saturday, the phone didn’t ring, Ted had no emergency calls from work, and neither of us received a single text. We slept until noon. Showered. Went to breakfast. Then back to bed. But my mind spun with everything I had to do. And that I only had six weeks to do it.

I freed myself from Ted’s love-lock and got out of bed. "Fairytale time is over." I hopped into my underwear. "Take me home."

Stubbornly, Ted lay back and pouted. "You are home."

I pulled my dress over my head and tugged it down. "Okay, take me to my other home." I pointed a finger at him. "No whining. I have to bake all day tomorrow." I own a food truck that sells deserts and coffees, and Sunday is my baking day. I wiggled my fingers at him. "So get the lead out, mister."

Ted grumbled, but fished his clothes from the floor and started dressing. "Fine, then I’ll stay with you." He pinched my butt. "Or do you have a slumber party scheduled with Zelda?"

I paused and thought about that. "Now that Eric’s back in the picture, maybe not."

Ted pulled on his sneakers. "What happened to Henry?"

I shrugged. "Never got the story on that."

Ted threw a few things in a duffel and we drove to my place. But when we got there, Zelda’s jeep was gone.

We had a short conversation with my next door neighbor Marge, whose Doberman Daisy was my dog, Boomer’s best friend. Marge was dog sitting for Zelda and Eric, but she didn’t know where they went.

I opened our communal gate and let Boomer into the yard. He danced on his little hind legs and wagged his stub. Daisy nosed the gate and whined. Marge let out a happy cackle. "Parting is such sweet sorrow." Her alert gray eyes drifted to my left hand and she grinned. "I see things have been happening."

I blushed and held out my hand to Marge. "Lots of things."

Marge reached a long skinny arm over the gate and took my hand. She whistled. "That’s a beauty. Congratulations you two." She looked at Ted and then at me. "He’s a keeper."

I leaned against Ted and put my arm around his waist. "Yup."

"Is it too soon to ask or have you set a date?"

"November 15
th
."

Marge reared back then flicked a look at my stomach. "You two in a hurry to start your new life, eh?"

My lips twisted in dismay, and I rolled my eyes at Ted. "Zelda told you?"

Marge straightened up to her full height of five-eleven. "Oh don’t be mad at Zee. I asked her straight out, and she don’t lie that well."

I looked at Ted. "See what I mean about Zelda?"

We said our goodbyes and went into the house. Which was surprisingly neat and uncluttered. I cleared the coffee table of an empty chip bowl and a couple of takeout cartons. Ted took the things out of my hands and said, "You sit. I’ll do this."

I followed him to the kitchen and said, "I’m pregnant, not an invalid." From the doorway I watched him rinse and rack dishes, wipe down counters and empty the trash. "You’re pretty good on K.P." I chuckled. "Nice qualities in a future husband."

He gave me a backward glance. "As long as I don’t go near pots, pans, or cooking ingredients." He rinsed his hands then dried them on a kitchen towel. Waggling his eyebrows he started toward me. "And since we’re alone, I have some other husbandly qualities to show you."

I shook my head and backed into the living room. "Oh no you don’t." I plopped on the sofa. "I’ve already become acquainted with those qualities and..."

Ted parked himself next to me and said, "Now what?" I sighed loudly and stared at the wall. He put his arm around me and said, "What’s the matter?"

I took his hand and traced patterns on his palm with my finger. "Are you ready for this?" I lifted my eyes to his. "Everything?"

He tousled my hair. "I’m ready for anything."

"I’m serious, Ted. A wedding, a baby, moving into your house and all that comes with it?" I lay my head on his shoulder. "Your life is going go from normal to commercial baking, food trucks, people stamping in and out, baby formula, dirty diapers, and very little sleep." I looked up at him. "You ready for all that?"

Ted laughed and pulled me closer. "Honey, my life hasn’t been normal since I met you. The baby is a surprise but so what? Surprises are good, right?" He tweaked my nose. "Are you worried?"

I pulled away from him. "No. I don’t know. Sort of." I sighed and fisted my forehead. "Thinking about it makes my head hurt. It’s so much at once."

Ted lost his grin and tensed up. "Are you having second thoughts?"

I turned to him and shook my head. "No! God, no." His eyes doubted me. "I want to be your wife. You have no idea how much I want that. And this baby is a miracle. Honest to God, I feel so lucky and so blessed. But…it’s so much, so fast." I stroked his cheek. "I don’t want to lose us. You know?"

Ted relaxed and stroked my hair. "That’ll never happen."

"How can you be so sure?"

He pulled me into a hug. "Because we’re for always, babe. It’s how it is. Try not to worry so much."

Tears welled in my eyes. "You promise?" He nodded and wiped a tear from my cheek. "Even when I’m gigantic with child? When I’m middle-aged and sloppy? You’re still going to chase me around the house? You’ll still want me?"

Ted nodded and chuckled. "Even then."

I climbed into his lap and put my arms around his neck. "I hear breastfeeding really wrecks your boobs. And then there’s that whole stretch mark thing."

He nodded. "I could lose my hair. Grow a paunch."

I gasped and touched his hair. "No, not the hair. It’s so pretty."

Ted slipped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer. "It’ll all work out. We’ve got each other. We’re good."

And then the door banged open and Zelda said, "You better be engaged." Dressed in shorts, tee-shirts and hiking boots, she and Eric walked into the house. They stood at the doorway like models in a camping magazine — their faces and arms bright with sun burn.

I fluttered my hand and Zelda grabbed it, examined the ring like a jeweler doing an appraisal, then finally let go. She clucked her tongue. "Definitely the right choice Teddy boy."

Eric nodded. "Sweet."

Zelda plopped into the easy chair. "When’s the wedding?"

"November." I pointed at her hiking boots and smirked. "Where have you been?"

Zelda stroked an imaginary beard. "Six weeks. That’s fast." She made a face at my stomach. "But understandable."

"Were you hiking?"

Zelda slumped in her chair and stretched out her skinny scraped up legs. "We climbed up to the Hollywood sign."

Eric sat on the arm of Zelda’s chair. "It was awesome. We could see the whole city from there."

I smirked. "You’ve spent the weekend together too, then?"

Zelda turned to Eric. "I’m hungry. Protein bars and water will not sustain me."

Eric smiled and gave Zelda’s ponytail a tug. "Let me guess, Italian?"

Zelda grinned. "You read my mind." She raised her brows at Ted. "Maybe Ted would like to go with you?"

Ted was on his feet and checking his wallet for cash. Then he raised his eyebrows at me. I nodded. "Yeah, Italian sounds great."

Ted hooked his head at Eric. "Let’s stop at the ATM on the way." He bent down and kissed me. "Find out what happened with Henry," he whispered.