Scorched Eggs Read Online Free Page B

thrilled that Kit was having what she euphemistically referred to as a shotgun wedding.
    â€œLet’s just let that go,” said Suzanne. “It is what it is and we can’t change things.”
    Toni looked thoughtful. “I just hope there isn’t any fallout from the fire and that it’s not still smoky downtown. That burned building is awfully close to the park where Kit’s wedding is gonna take place.”
    â€œI doubt the fire will upset her plans at all,” said Suzanne. “That building’s still a couple of blocks away. You can’t even see it from where the bandstand is. There’s a whole row of birch trees and a grove of oaks blocking the view.”
    â€œPetra,” said Toni, “you’re still going to bake Kit’s wedding cake, aren’t you?”
    â€œOf course I am,” said Petra. “I said I would and I never break my promises. I’ve got a design all sketched out and I plan to start baking first thing tomorrow so the cake’s all nice and fresh.”
    â€œThat’ll for sure put you in a better mood,” said Toni.
    â€œI don’t know,” said Petra. She hoisted herself out of her chair with a huge sigh of resignation. “I can’t stop thinking about Hannah and . . .” She stopped abruptly and shook her head.
    â€œPetra,” said Suzanne. “Is there something you want to tell us?” It felt like Petra was holding back.
    â€œNo,” said Petra. “At least not until I get my mind in the right place.”

CHAPTER 3
    T HEY locked up the Cackleberry Club then, getting ready to head for home. After Petra sped off in her car, still looking upset and out of sorts, Suzanne and Toni lingered in the back parking lot, talking.
    With the late-summer sun lasering down through the oaks and pine trees that bordered the lot, the day felt warm and mellow. But the leaves on the sumac were starting to turn red and Suzanne had noticed a few tinges of gold and yellow among the poplars and white oaks.
    Summer on the wane, autumn sneaking up on us, she thought. Where did the time go? Why did the seasons whip by as if you were riding a wildly spinning carrousel and leaning out to frantically grab the brass ring?
    And then Suzanne remembered, she
had
grabbed the brass ring. After her husband, Walter, had died a year and a half ago, she hadn’t been sure if she could ever be truly happy again. That worry had been one of the deciding factors, the impetus to open the Cackleberry Club. If you build it, they will come, she’d told herself. Plus it would give her mind a vacation from sorrow and sadness. And she had hoped that maybe, somewhere along the line, she might find peace and happiness again.
    Well, customers had come. They poured in for morning breakfast, farm-to-table lunches, and afternoon tea and scones. And somewhere in that whole crazy, jumbled process of becoming an entrepreneur, negotiating contracts, building a customer base, and expanding into books and yarn, Suzanne found herself bouncing back. She found her happy. And then, wonder of wonders, she’d met Dr. Sam Hazelet, whose crooked grin, sense of humor, and steady optimism had
really
made her happy.
    And wasn’t that just the cherry on top of the hot fudge sundae.
    Suzanne blinked, suddenly coming out of her reverie and realizing that Toni had just spoken to her.
    â€œExcuse me, what did you say?”
    â€œHave you got big plans for tonight?” By “big plans” Toni was asking if Suzanne had a date with Sam.
    â€œNo, nothing. What about you?”
    â€œAw, I’m just gonna go home and curl up with the latest issue of
OK!
magazine. See which stars are back in rehab.”
    â€œAh,” said Suzanne. She figured Toni had something on her mind. Sooner or later she’d spit it out.
    Toni stuck the scuffed toe of one cowboy boot into the sand and shoved it around, creating a panorama of miniature