The Potluck Club—Takes the Cake by Linda Evans Shepherd Read Free Book Online

it across the chair behind her. “Is that coffee I smell?” she asked. “Decaf? Because I can’t have regular.”
    “It’s stale,” I answered, crossing my arms over my middle. “What do you want, Charlene?”
    She turned toward the sofa and extended her arm a bit. “May I?” she asked.
    I arched my brow. “May you what?”
    “Sit? I’m exhausted.” And then she sat down, in spite of the fact that I hadn’t invited her to do so. “Not to mention I’ve been waiting across the street for your friend to leave. My gosh, what do you people have to talk about so long? My back end was going numb from sitting in my car that whole time.” She paused. “Please sit, Goldie.”
    I coughed out a snicker. “I beg your pardon? I’ll decide when or if I sit down. This is my home.”
    She nodded and looked around. “So it is. It’s... nice. Certainly not the home you left, but it’s... nice.”
    “You know nothing about my home.” I sat in the nearest chair, one I’d picked up cheap at a thrift store down on Dyer Street.
    She slid herself back on the sofa like a plump goddess, crossing one leg over the other. “Oh, Goldie, Goldie, Goldie.” She laughed, sounding more like a cat than a woman. “Silly, silly Goldie.”
    I flushed red with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. If Jack had brought that woman into my home, he could take her and Summit Ridge and all the years we had between us, and choke on them as far as I was concerned.
    “I hear you’re going away for the weekend,” she purred. When the question she clearly expected from me flashed in color on my face, she answered without my saying a word. “Oh, you know. One person tells one person and that person tells another. Eventually, it got to me. Summit Ridge, I understand?” I raised my chin before she went on. “Quaint. Not anywhere I’d want to be... least not with Jack... but for the two of you... well, I suppose it could be... quaint. Anyway,” she said, stretching and draping her arms around her knees, “that’s not why I’m here. I’m here because we have a bit of a problem.”
    “I can’t imagine what,” I said. “You are no longer a part of my husband’s life and therefore no longer a part of mine.” My heart began to pound as though it knew that life as I’d known it not ten minutes earlier was about to change forever.
    Charlene looked down at her groomed fingernails, long and pointy and painted a frosty red. “How do I say this, Goldie? How do I put this delicately?”
    “Mrs. Dippel,” I corrected her in the firmest voice I could muster.
    She looked up at me sharply. “Okay, then, Mrs. Dippel . Here’s the deal: I’m pregnant, Mrs. Dippel . And the father of my child, Mrs. Dippel , is none other than your husband.”
    As soon as Charlene said the word pregnant , the blood rushed out of my head, past my heart, and out my toes. Lord have mercy, I’m surprised it didn’t just pool right there on the dingy living room carpet of my condo, adding stain on top of stain. I’m also a little shocked I didn’t have a heart attack and die right there on the spot. Somehow I managed to live. Somehow, after my vision had all but blacked completely out, it returned, bringing the blood back to my head, though I’m sure it was more like dishwater.
    Charlene stood abruptly. “I see I’ve left you speechless,” she said as she reached for her coat. “I’m sure you have a lot to think about, and I’ll leave you to do so.”
    As she shoved her arms into the coat sleeves, I stood on legs made of jelly and said, “You can’t just waltz in here and make a statement like that and then leave. I—I don’t believe you. I don’t. You’re just upset because Jack and I are going away together.”
    Charlene spit out a cackle as she wrapped the sash of her coat around her waist. “Oh, please! Like I could care less at this point. Do you really think I was in love with that lug?”
    I crossed my arms over my middle again, feeling a