Cinnamon Roll Murder (Hannah Swensen, #15)(94)

“Let me tell her!” Delores said, practically jumping up and down on her stool.

“Go ahead, Lori,” Doc said indulgently.

“Oh, Hannah! It’s just like Doc said! The lab tech ran the second paternity test on Buddy’s sample. And it’s ninety-nine point nine percent positive that he was Diana’s father!”





Hannah paced the floor of the kitchen. She started at the back door, made a path from the industrial oven to the crate where Sammy lay on his velvet dog bed. He was chewing on the ear of a teddy bear squeaky toy and Hannah paused to squeak it for him. Then she executed a smart, military-style turn on her heel, and made the return trip to the back door again. She was sure she’d logged at least a mile since she’d called Norman and asked him if he’d please meet her in the kitchen at The Cookie Jar.

As she turned and headed toward Sammy’s crate again, she glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes had passed, and Norman should be there any second. She wished she knew exactly what to say to him, but she didn’t. And time was running out.

They’d left it all up to her. Carrie, Earl, Andrea, Michelle, Delores, Doc, Lisa, Herb, and even Mike had decided not to say a word about the DNA samples they’d collected for the tests the lab had run. They’d all agreed that Hannah should be the one to tell Norman whatever she wanted him to know. The ball was in her court, the bow was drawn back with the arrow in place, and the die was cast. Everything was up to Hannah, and she still wasn’t sure how much or how little she should tell Norman.

Sammy gave a little woof and Hannah reached down to pet him. The door to the crate was open, but he seemed perfectly content to stay inside. Perhaps he thought that she might trip over him in her pacing.

There was a knock on the back door, and Hannah rushed to open it. Norman was standing there and he looked very serious.

“Come on in, Norman,” Hannah said. “I’ve got fresh coffee.”

“Great.” Norman hung his jacket on the hooks by the back door and took a stool at the stainless steel work island. “I’m glad you called me, Hannah. I was just about to pick up the phone and call you.”

“Oh?” Hannah delivered his coffee, and then she sat down on the stool across from Norman. He looked so serious, she felt a little weak in the knees.

“This is serious, Hannah,” he said.

I can see that, her mind said, but her mouth was so dry that all she could do was nod.

“I’m not Diana’s father.”

Uh-oh! her mind flashed a warning. Had Norman found out about the paternity tests they’d run? Was he about to tell her he’d never forgive her for interfering in his life?

“Did you hear me, Hannah?”

“Oh, yes,” Hannah said in a voice that trembled slightly. “How did you find out?”

“I had the lab run a paternity test, and I got the results in the mail yesterday. With my DNA, I couldn’t possibly be Diana’s father.”

“You ...” Hannah stopped and swallowed hard. She took a deep breath and started again. “You sent in a sample and they ran a paternity test?”

“Of course I did. You didn’t think I’d simply accept Bev’s word for it, did you?”

“I ... I didn’t know.”

“Well, you should have known. Give me a little credit, Hannah. I wasn’t born yesterday. I thought it was odd that she waited that long to tell me about Diana, and I decided I’d rather be safe than sorry. As it turned out, I would have been sorry. Very sorry.” Norman stopped and reached out for Hannah’s hand. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. Yes, I’m okay.” Hannah took another deep breath. “Did you tell her yet?”

“I drove to Minneapolis and told her last night. Of course I had to find her first. She wasn’t at her mother’s house, and Diana wasn’t sick. She lied to me about that, too.”

“Did she tell you who Diana’s father really was?”

“No, and I didn’t ask. That doesn’t really matter.”

Hannah made a snap decision. There was no reason to give Norman the name of Diana’s father. “It doesn’t matter to you?”

“No. What matters is that Bev lied to me, and she tried to trick me into marrying her.”

“Then ... you’re not getting married tomorrow?” Hannah asked, just to make sure.

“That’s right. I’m not getting married tomorrow. I haven’t told anyone else, Hannah. I wanted to tell you first.” Norman reached out and captured her other hand. “I love you, Hannah. I always will. We were so good together before all this happened. Do you think that with a little time ... we can get back to being us again?”

Hannah wasn’t sure she could speak past the lump in her throat, but she knew she had to try. “We never stopped being us,” she told him. “Even when you were with her, I never stopped believing in us.”

They sat there, hands clasped, for a long moment, just breathing the same air and being together. And then Norman gave a deep sigh.

“I’d better get over to Granny’s Attic,” he said. “I have to ask Mother and Delores to activate the gossip hotline.”

“Why?”

“I want them to tell everyone in town that the wedding’s canceled. I don’t have the list of addresses Bev used when she sent out the invitations, and I know it’s impossible to contact everyone. So I’m going to go down to the community center tomorrow to tell anybody who shows up that there won’t be a wedding.”