Thankfully, traffic wasn’t as bad as she’d expected and she pulled into the pickup line right on time, her eyes scanning for Taylor’s blonde hair and lithe frame.
A waving hand caught her attention and she pulled the car over, recognizing Taylor instantly.
“Hello!” Margot said, slipping out of the car with extended hands.
“Hey, Aunt Margot,” Taylor said, thin arms wrapping around her.
“We need to feed you some pastries,” Margot said, leaning back with a grin. “You’re much too thin.”
Taylor blushed, her grin widening. “A girl needs to watch her figure if she’s going to the beach every day.”
“Good thing you won’t be spending much time at the beach then.” The girl’s expression fell and Margot rushed to explain. “It’s freezing, Taylor!”
“It’s going to be summer,” she said, laughing.
“True, but by that time, you’ll be elbow deep in dough.”
She sent a look to the side, but Margot read it loud and clear. She was not happy about the arrangements.
“Let’s get your stuff into the car and head back to North Bank. We’ll get you settled in the spare bedroom and then I’ll take you out for Italian. You do still like Italian food, right?”
“Yeah.” Her response was noncommittal but Margot decided not to let it affect her. Things were going to change, that was a given, but she would make the most of it.
They drove back down I-365, blessedly going against the flow of traffic, and by the time Margot exited the freeway and pulled into the small parking pad in front of her historic row house, Taylor had loosened up, if only a little.
“I remember visiting here.”
“That’s right. You were…what, fourteen?”
“Yeah.” She pulled her backpack from the backseat and Margot picked up her suitcase, dreading the ascent up the steep steps that climbed to the narrow entry way.
“Want some help?”
Hefting the bag, Margot shook her head. “I’ve got it. I’ve been taking Krav Maga classes.”
“Seriously?” Taylor’s eyebrows disappeared into her fringy blonde bangs.
“Hey, your aunt isn’t some old lady. I like to stay active. Hiking, biking, baking, and now, self-defense.”
Taylor shook her head as Margot hefted the suitcase up and climbed the stone steps. Breathing heavy, she took the inside stairs more slowly until they stood in front of the small guest bedroom.
“I tried my best to stack the crime novels out of the way. I didn’t do such a good job.”
The girl peered in the room and her eyes widened. “Wow. Have you read all of those?”
Margot surveyed the wall-to-wall bookshelves stacked with crime novels, mysteries, and thrillers. “Not all. A lot of them were Julian’s.” Margot caught the saddened expression of her niece. “Your uncle was a great man and he loved to read. It always shocked me, knowing that his job as detective put him in something like a crime novel every day, but he couldn’t get enough of them for some reason. He said he liked to guess ‘whodunit’ in real life and fiction.”
“I miss him.”
Her niece’s soft words surprised Margot. She and Julian hadn’t been around her sister very often. Living on the opposite side of the country did that to a family, but they had made an effort to get to know Renee’s husband and his daughter.
“He really liked you.”
Taylor turned surprised eyes upward. “Yeah?”
“He didn’t call you mon canard for nothing.”
Taylor laughed. “I never got why he wanted to call me a little duck.”
“It was just his way of showing his affection.”
“He used to write me letters.”
“He did?” Margot felt a rush of warmth flood her chest. Her husband had been a wonderful, kind, and caring man. It didn’t really surprise her that he would have taken a special interest in his sister-in-law’s adopted daughter.
“Yeah. It was after we came to visit here. He started sending letters and cards almost every month. I really looked forward to them. I’m sorry…that he’s gone.”
“Me too, Tay,” Margot said, resting her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Hey, why don't you get settled in then we’ll go to dinner? The dresser over there is empty and you can hang anything you want in the closet. We’ll have to share the bathroom, but I think we’ll manage.”
Taylor nodded without saying anything and closed the door behind her, leaving Margot in the hall. Thoughts of her late husband squeezed at Margot’s heart, but the ache was different than it had been. Five years had gone a long way to heal the brokenness, though the place he’d filled in her life would never be the same again.
Thanks for reading the sample of Croissants and Corruption. We really hope you liked it. You can read the rest at:
amazon.com/dp/B06X9C3G5T/
Killing Santa Page 11
