Read Online Laid Out and Candle Lit by Ann Everett - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ann Everett
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chest, closed her eyes and gasped. “Oh my Lord. I may have an orgasm.”
Pattiecake and Sugarpie leaned forward laughing. “Okay, looks like we have a winner,” Sugarpie said. “Tizzy, what do you think?”
Tizzy raised her hands and stammered. “It’s wonderful. Delicious. It is orgasmic. Maybe we should call it Orgasm Pie!”
Pattiecake and Sugarpie bent over laughing, holding onto each other. “I’m not sure we could get away with that,” Pattiecake said. “We’re already pushing the envelope with the Better than Sex Cupcakes.”
Rayann nodded. “You’re right. That might be too much. I think we should put it on the menu as Chocolate Coconut Pecan Pie and describe it as so good it’ll make you come . . . back for more!”
Sugarpie tried to straighten up and crossed her legs. “Lor-dee. I may pee my pants.”
Once the moment passed and things settled down, Rayann pointed to the front door. “I read the funeral notice for Mr. Ledbetter listing two services. What’s that about? Do they think it’s gonna take two funerals to preach him into heaven?”
Pattiecake shook her head. “Poor Billy Jack. You know his family is split. One half doesn’t speak to the other half, so they’re having a service for both halves, to avoid another funeral in the family, if you know what I mean. They even had two visitations.” She gave a whispered laugh. “I heard he’s being buried in a new pair of overalls with a package of chewing tobacco in one pocket and a pint of whiskey in the other. Oh, by the way, Tizzy. I want you to run a couple of cakes up to the church. They’re gonna feed the family afterwards.”
Sugarpie nodded, “Pattiecake and I are going to both services. It’ll be worth the trip to see those two sons of his, Buttcut and Booger. At the last funeral those boys attended, they brought a cooler of beer. The first service is at ten and the second one at two. We think you girls can handle things for an hour each time. If not, just lock up and put a note on the door,” she said, “And if y’all don’t mind, would you deliver some muffins out at the Philpot place? Frank died last night. We’d like for them to have some baked goods for breakfast in the morning.”
Pattiecake twisted her face into a frown. “This may be a big funeral week. First, Billy Jack Ledbetter, now Frank Philpot, and I heard Melba Jane Treadwell is circling the drain.”
CHAPTER NINE
T hey swung by Tizzy’s, picked up Gracie, and headed out toward the Philpot’s place with four dozen muffins. Frank Philpot’s family lived out in the boonies down a dirt road about six miles out of town. When they turned into the drive, the sun had set and stars were beginning to appear in the night sky. With no help from streetlights, evening in the country came earlier and seemed darker than in town.
Rayann unbuckled, opened her car door, and quickly closed it. “Do you smell that?” she asked.
“Yeah, it’s a skunk,” Tizzy said.
Rayann’s eyes got big and she fidgeted in her seat. “I don’t like skunks. I’m afraid of skunks. I’m more afraid of skunks than I am of vampires.”
Tizzy tilted her head and rolled her eyes. “That’s logical, since skunks are real and vampires aren’t.”
“You don’t understand.” Rayann frowned, her eyes wide, her lips thinned into a tight line. “If vampires were real, I’d still be more afraid of skunks.” Rayann squeezed her eyes shut. “Vampires can turn you and you’ll live forever and be young forever. Skunks, on the other hand can make you stink, bite you and give you rabies. And besides, from what I hear, vampire sex is off the charts.”
From the back seat, Gracie chanted. “Bampire six, Bampire six.”
They both laughed. “Yes, Gracie. That’s what your momma needs. A good dose of bampire six.”
Tizzy poked at her arm. “Hush up, Rayann.”
“It’s the truth, Tizzy. You need some. You need some bad. You’re cranky. You’re even crankier
Pattiecake and Sugarpie leaned forward laughing. “Okay, looks like we have a winner,” Sugarpie said. “Tizzy, what do you think?”
Tizzy raised her hands and stammered. “It’s wonderful. Delicious. It is orgasmic. Maybe we should call it Orgasm Pie!”
Pattiecake and Sugarpie bent over laughing, holding onto each other. “I’m not sure we could get away with that,” Pattiecake said. “We’re already pushing the envelope with the Better than Sex Cupcakes.”
Rayann nodded. “You’re right. That might be too much. I think we should put it on the menu as Chocolate Coconut Pecan Pie and describe it as so good it’ll make you come . . . back for more!”
Sugarpie tried to straighten up and crossed her legs. “Lor-dee. I may pee my pants.”
Once the moment passed and things settled down, Rayann pointed to the front door. “I read the funeral notice for Mr. Ledbetter listing two services. What’s that about? Do they think it’s gonna take two funerals to preach him into heaven?”
Pattiecake shook her head. “Poor Billy Jack. You know his family is split. One half doesn’t speak to the other half, so they’re having a service for both halves, to avoid another funeral in the family, if you know what I mean. They even had two visitations.” She gave a whispered laugh. “I heard he’s being buried in a new pair of overalls with a package of chewing tobacco in one pocket and a pint of whiskey in the other. Oh, by the way, Tizzy. I want you to run a couple of cakes up to the church. They’re gonna feed the family afterwards.”
Sugarpie nodded, “Pattiecake and I are going to both services. It’ll be worth the trip to see those two sons of his, Buttcut and Booger. At the last funeral those boys attended, they brought a cooler of beer. The first service is at ten and the second one at two. We think you girls can handle things for an hour each time. If not, just lock up and put a note on the door,” she said, “And if y’all don’t mind, would you deliver some muffins out at the Philpot place? Frank died last night. We’d like for them to have some baked goods for breakfast in the morning.”
Pattiecake twisted her face into a frown. “This may be a big funeral week. First, Billy Jack Ledbetter, now Frank Philpot, and I heard Melba Jane Treadwell is circling the drain.”
CHAPTER NINE
T hey swung by Tizzy’s, picked up Gracie, and headed out toward the Philpot’s place with four dozen muffins. Frank Philpot’s family lived out in the boonies down a dirt road about six miles out of town. When they turned into the drive, the sun had set and stars were beginning to appear in the night sky. With no help from streetlights, evening in the country came earlier and seemed darker than in town.
Rayann unbuckled, opened her car door, and quickly closed it. “Do you smell that?” she asked.
“Yeah, it’s a skunk,” Tizzy said.
Rayann’s eyes got big and she fidgeted in her seat. “I don’t like skunks. I’m afraid of skunks. I’m more afraid of skunks than I am of vampires.”
Tizzy tilted her head and rolled her eyes. “That’s logical, since skunks are real and vampires aren’t.”
“You don’t understand.” Rayann frowned, her eyes wide, her lips thinned into a tight line. “If vampires were real, I’d still be more afraid of skunks.” Rayann squeezed her eyes shut. “Vampires can turn you and you’ll live forever and be young forever. Skunks, on the other hand can make you stink, bite you and give you rabies. And besides, from what I hear, vampire sex is off the charts.”
From the back seat, Gracie chanted. “Bampire six, Bampire six.”
They both laughed. “Yes, Gracie. That’s what your momma needs. A good dose of bampire six.”
Tizzy poked at her arm. “Hush up, Rayann.”
“It’s the truth, Tizzy. You need some. You need some bad. You’re cranky. You’re even crankier
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