Not So Peachy Day (Sweet Peach Bakery Book 7) by Wendy Meadows

Author:Wendy Meadows [Meadows, Wendy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Majestic Owl Publishing LLC
Published: 2018-09-09T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

“Well,” Momma Peach said and made a big old happy face, “my belly is now content and I’m ready to face the day.”

Sam watched Momma Peach drain her coffee cup and then pat her belly. Momma Peach was now ready for action. But the action in question was something he could do without. “It's nice sitting here drinking coffee,” he said and moved his eyes to the front windows. “I'm not anxious to go back out in that storm, though.”

Timmy looked down at a half-eaten plate of syrupy pancakes, scrambled eggs, turkey sausage and hash browns. A half-eaten biscuit and bowl of pepper gravy sat off to the side of his plate next to a glass of orange juice. “Momma, my belly is full,” he said, his eyes wide. “Please don't get mad at me, but I can't eat anymore. I'm still full from all the food I ate last night.”

Momma Peach reached over and rubbed Timmy's belly. She made a serious face and pretended to be a doctor checking on a serious condition. “Uh-huh...I see...is that so, Mr. Belly? Okay...sure enough.”

“What?” Timmy asked, alarmed.

Momma Peach rubbed her nose against Timmy's. “Your belly said it was very, very full and asked me to save this here food for later.”

“Oh...okay, yeah, sure,” Timmy beamed, relieved. “I'm sure I'll be hungry later.”

Rosa pushed her plate away and picked up a mug of hot cocoa. “I'm stuffed,” she said and accidentally let out a little burp. “Oh, excuse me,” she blushed.

Momma Peach chuckled. “Better to let it out and bear the shame than keep it in and feel the pain.”

Timmy laughed. “That's a rhyme, Momma. I like that.”

“You bet,” Momma Peach smiled. She looked into Timothy's sweet face. The boy's face was still far too thin for her liking; his eyes were still scared and uncertain, even though they glowed with hope whenever he looked at Momma Peach. “Oh, I am gonna have to give you a great deal of loving, yes sir and yes, ma’am.”

Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “Timmy,” he said in a calm but serious voice, “son, we need to talk about something, okay?”

Timmy frowned. “Momma?”

Momma Peach gazed into Sam's eyes, read his thoughts, and sighed. “Baby,” she said and looked at Timmy, “Momma is kinda in a bad situation here. You see, I want to take my Timmy home with me—and by all means I will do it, too—but my Timmy has run away from the foster family he was staying with, which means—”

“The Fowlers will be looking for me. Yeah, I know,” Timmy said in an upset voice. “I figured you would have to call and report me.” Timmy looked up at Momma Peach with pleading, desperate eyes. “Momma, don't let Mr. and Mrs. Fowler take me back. Please,” he begged.

“Oh, baby,” Momma Peach said and pulled Timmy into her lap and wrapped her arms around him, “I am not going to let anyone take you from me. Especially not someone who, as you told us, hits you and treats you no better than an animal.

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