by Amber Crewes
Kayley’s eyes widened. “Of course,” she said, twirling a strand of freshly-dyed auburn hair around her finger. “Forgive me. Let’s talk about your lifestyle. How will you and your family be using a new property?”
Rebecca pursed her lips. “Well, Meghan’s Daddy won’t be around often; his work keeps him very busy. It would mostly be me here. I would like to have things to do while I am in town; I love throwing charity events and parties, but I wouldn’t mind having a shop to duck into, either.”
Kayley’s eyes sparkled. “We have a lot of properties that offer space for hosting events,” she told Rebecca. “And we even have some commercial properties for purchase. You could easily scoop up one of the buildings or lots downtown and run a little shop. What about a flower shop? You could open a flower shop and check in on it while you are here.”
Rebecca smiled warmly. “That’s a sweet little idea,” she said. “I’m not sure how I feel about getting my hands dirty, though. Let’s just talk about residential options.”
Kayley nodded and rose from her seat behind the desk. “Of course. Excuse me for one moment, and I will go find some pamphlets detailing your options.”
As Kayley marched away, Meghan glanced over her shoulder to see a crowd of people sitting angrily in the lobby. “What’s going on out there?” Meghan asked as she fidgeted in her seat.
“Ugh, that dead man just ruined so many of our deals,” Kayley chirped as she walked back into her office. “I was just about to sell the property next to Luciano’s, but because that guy dropped dead there, no one wants it. All of those people out there are trying to cancel deals and property purchases we had signed on. It’s madness.”
Meghan’s eyes widened. “All of those people want to give up on their property deals because that fellow died?”
Kayley rolled her eyes. “I know, it’s ridiculous. I’m going to lose out on so much money because of this. I wish that man would have had the courtesy to drop dead elsewhere. My son’s tuition bill is coming up soon, and I need the cash to pay for the private school. My ex-husband isn’t helping with anything anymore, so this whole debacle makes my life more difficult.”
Meghan tried to empathize, but she was disheartened by Kayley’s disdain for Roger Williams.
“Kayley,” she said softly. “I’m sorry it’s stressful, but what about public school? I hear the schools here are great. Couldn’t your son go to one of the public schools? You could save so much money.”
Kayley narrowed her eyes at Meghan and gestured at a framed photograph of her son. “My little boy deserves the best,” she hissed. “Maybe you’ll understand when you are a mother someday.”
Rebecca uncrossed her legs and picked up her leather handbag. She rose to her feet and beckoned to Meghan to follow suit. “I think it’s time we go,” she said to Kayley as she tucked her blonde hair behind her ears. “Ms. Kane, we can schedule a showing for next week. It seems best if we get out of your hair; this place looks crowded, and we don’t want to take up too much of your time.”
Kayley’s face was panicked as Rebecca and Meghan walked to the door. “Wait!” Kayley exclaimed. “I apologize for my outburst; I just care deeply about my son, and I don’t want to miss an opportunity to help you find your dream home in Sandy Bay, Mrs. Truman.”
Rebecca nodded politely. “We’ll surely find time to work together later in the week,” she told Kayley. “For now, we’ll leave you be. Have a nice day, Ms. Kane.”
As Meghan and Rebecca left the office, Rebecca sighed. “That woman was impossibly rude,” she huffed to Meghan. “Didn’t you say you are friendly with her? Really, Meghan, you need to surround yourself with good company if you want to become your best self.”
Meghan shrugged. “Kayley and I are friendly, but she isn’t my best friend, Mama,” she explained. “Besides, she’s the best agent in town; she’ll do a great job helping you and Daddy find a place. Just give her a chance.”
Meghan and Rebecca rounded the corner and found Angela Luciano outside walking a small Italian greyhound. “Angela, so good to see you,” Meghan exclaimed. “Is that your dog? He is so cute. We should get together for a doggie playdate sometime.”
Angela flashed her bright smile at Meghan and Rebecca before bending down to stroke the mottled gray greyhound behind the ears. “Yes,” she breathed in her thick Italian accent. “This is Sarzana. He’s my precious bambino. He loves other dogs, and I’m sure he would love your little loves.”
Rebecca beamed at Angela. “It’s so nice to see you out and about,” she gushed as Angela stood beside her dog. “Meghan and I were just out visiting Kayley Kane. I’m looking for a second home here.”
“That’s wonderful,” Angela cooed. “Sandy Bay is a darling town. When my family moved here from Italy when I was a teenager, we were welcomed with open arms. You will make many happy memories in Sandy Bay.”
Rebecca tossed her hair behind her shoulder. “I’m just hoping to find the perfect house and the perfects set of activities,” she explained to Angela. “It’s very important to get connected with the right people and events, and I hope to contribute to Sandy Bay since my daughter loves it so much.”
Angela’s face brightened. “Are you interested in charities? Our restaurant is connected with many of the local organizations. I could give you some contacts if you are interested.”
“I would adore that,” Rebecca gushed. “You are just so beautiful and lovely, Angela. Thank you so much.”
“Of course,” Angela replied. “In fact, tomorrow, our restaurant is partnering with a charity that gives meals to the homeless. I joke with my father that we give the homeless enough meals, as they dig through our dumpster each night. But all jokes aside, this charity is a good one, and we are pleased to partake. Would you two like to join us tomorrow? Give back this holiday season?”
Meghan shook her head. “Sorry, Angela,” she said as Rebecca glared at her. “I have a busy schedule tomorrow, and I put off some of my baking to go out with my mother today. Maybe next time?”
Rebecca gave Meghan a stern look. “That is not in the spirit, Meghan,” Rebecca whispered to her daughter. “If you want me to be part of this town so badly, then we are going to go volunteer with beautiful Angela. Understood?”
Meghan bit her lip, upset that her mother had spoken to her like a child. “Understood,” she muttered as Rebecca’s frown turned into a glamorous smile. “Understood, Mama.”
9
That evening, Meghan invited Pamela and Trudy to the bakery to meet her mother. Concerned by Kayley’s rudeness, Rebecca had insisted meeting some of Meghan’s other Sandy Bay friends. “I want to make sure that my daughter is spending time with the right people,” Rebecca told her daughter as they prepared for the girls’ night at Truly Sweet. “This will be fun, Meghan. I’m going to teach you all one of my favorite recipes. They will all love it, and we can spend even more time together.”
“That’s just what we need,” Meghan groaned as Rebecca fastened an apron around her neck to protect her vintage Chanel sweater. “More time together.”
Rebecca turned to smile at her daughter. “What did you say?”
Meghan shook her head. “Nothing, Mama. Oh, look. Trudy and Pamela are here.”
Rebecca smiled graciously as Meghan’s two employees walked into the bakery. “Hello! I am Meghan’s mother, Rebecca. It’s a pleasure to meet you ladies.”
Pamela, Meghan’s high school-aged employee, was brimming with excitement. “Nice to meet you. Meghan didn’t tell us you were so glamorous!”
Rebecca waved a hand to dismiss Pamela’s compliment, but Meghan knew her mother was pleased by the teenager’s words. “And mom, this is Trudy,” Meghan said as she introduced her middle-aged employee to her mother. Trudy looked frumpy compared to Rebecca; both women were approximately the same age, but with her lumpy holiday sweater, frizzy hair, and knee-length wool skirt, Trudy looked ages older than the refined Rebecca.
“Let’s get started with our baking,” R
ebecca instructed the group as she gestured to the ingredients and utensils she had laid out. “I’ve done a little prep, and I’m excited to teach you girls.”
“Girls?” Trudy murmured. “I’m fifty-five years old, and I’ve been in the kitchen before.”
“I’m just being silly,” Rebecca laughed. “Come on, Trudy, get in the spirit!”
The four women got to work. Meghan turned on a holiday radio station, and the sounds of classical Christmas music filled the room. Everyone was in a pleasant mood, and Trudy lit one of the peppermint candles in the kitchen, giving the space a warm, festive glow and smell.
After nearly two hours of holiday fun, out of nowhere, the atmosphere shifted. “No, no, no!” Rebecca screeched as Pamela twisted a thick piece of yellow dough. “That is not the correct shape.”
Meghan’s dark eyes widened as she looked at the dough. Pamela had spun the pieces into an intricate braid, and Meghan was impressed with the shape and texture of the dough. “Mama,” Meghan protested. “Pamela’s braid is so pretty. What is the matter?”
“It’s not the right size,” Rebecca argued. “She made it too thick; it needs to be thinner on the side for it to look right.”
Meghan cocked her head to the side. “I disagree,” she said to her mother. Meghan saw Pamela’s upset face, and she put a shoulder around the girl. “Pamela, you are doing a great job. Keep it up.”
Rebecca frowned. “No, Pamela,” she insisted. “You aren’t doing it correctly.”
Meghan stepped in front of her mother and shook her head. “That’s enough, Mama,” she told Rebecca. “We may be doing your recipe, but this is my bakery. We do things a certain way here, and if I say Pamela’s braid looks nice, then that’s the way it is.”
Rebecca’s jaw dropped, but she quickly regained composure and straightened her posture. “Fine,” she huffed to Meghan. “I’ll just be quiet and go work on the icing.”
After awhile, Rebecca’s mood softened, and she and Trudy chatted about their favorite treats to bake. “My favorite holiday treats are egg-nog eclairs,” Trudy told Rebecca. “They have such a unique, festive flavor.”
“Those sound delightful,” Rebecca affirmed as she dropped four drops of red food coloring into the bowl of frothy icing. “My favorite treat to bake is a coconut custard tart topped with roasted pineapple.”
Meghan gasped. “That sounds incredible, Mama,” she gushed as Rebecca’s eyes sparkled.
“It’s your father’s favorite,” Rebecca declared. “Many Christmases ago, my family attended a party at your father’s parents’ house. I whipped up one of my coconut tarts, but as I tasted it, I felt it needed more flavor. I looked around my Mama’s kitchen, and when I saw a fresh pineapple, I knew it would be the perfect touch for my treat. I roasted the pineapple and cut the pieces into little stars in honor of the holiday.”
Meghan’s heart warmed at the dreamy look on her mother’s face. “Then what happened?”
“I took the dessert to the party, and when your father tried it, he demanded to be introduced to the baker. I was the baker! We were introduced, and it was love at first bite, as we like to say.”
Meghan’s face glowed as she imagined her parents as young people in Texas. “That’s the best story, Mama. I’ve never heard it before!”
Rebecca nodded. “It just goes to show that food is a way to a man’s heart. In fact, we should finish up these treats and take some to Jack at the station. Didn’t you tell me he worked a double shift?”
Meghan bit her lip. “He did,” she confirmed. “He’s been working day and night to find out just how Roger died.”
“Then it’s settled,” Rebecca announced. “We will finish these treats and then take some to Jack.”
Thirty minutes later, Meghan bid farewell to Pamela and Trudy. She and Rebecca packed up the treats, and they bundled up in their heavy coats to brave the cold night air. It was a windy night, and the breeze stung Meghan’s cheeks. “Are you sure you don’t want to buy a second home in the Bahamas?” Meghan joked to Rebecca as she navigated through a snow bank.
“Don’t tempt me,” Rebecca countered.
The two arrived at the Sandy Bay Police Station and were directed to Jack’s office. As they walked down the hallway, they heard the booming voice of Roberto Luciano. “I had nothing to do with that man’s demise,” Roberto insisted as he stormed down the hallway past Meghan and Rebecca, Chief Nunan trailing behind him with a notebook in her hands. “This incident is ruining my business. We had ten cancellations last night for our dinner hours, and today, fifteen people have cancelled! I am going to have to close down my restaurant if something doesn’t change. This is preposterous!”
Meghan cringed as Roberto began shouting in Italian. “He is so angry,” she whispered to her mother as they walked him stalk down the hallway.
“He has a right to be,” Rebecca said. “That man dropping dead in front of his restaurant isn’t good for business, just as he said. It’s quite sad that such a fine restaurant is losing patrons.”
Meghan shrugged. “I think it’s quite sad that a man passed away, and all anyone seems to care about it business. Between Roberto and Kayley, it seems like people don’t care that a poor man who was down on his luck is now gone. Where is the holiday spirit?”
“I see plenty of the holiday spirit right here.”
Meghan looked up to see Jack grinning down at her. He looked tired; with the deep, heavy bags beneath his eyes, his disheveled clothes, and his matted hair, it was evident that he had been working nonstop.
“How are the two most beautiful ladies in Sandy Bay?” Jack asked Meghan and Rebecca.
“We’re just fine, Jack,” Rebecca answered. “We brought something to you. Meghan says you’ve been working around the clock, and we thought you needed a treat. Now, I’m sure you wouldn’t have to work such long hours if you had a nice, proper business job, but we’ll let that be.”
Jack gritted his teeth and pasted a smile on his face. “Thank you for thinking of me,” he said to Rebecca. “What kind of treat?”
Meghan held up a white wicker basket. “It’s filled with desserts,” she said to Jack. “We baked them fresh this afternoon. There’s a French silk pie in there, as well as a couple of croissants, along with a red velvet cake, a sack of gingerbread men, and a braided strudel pastry.”
Jack beamed. “You are too good to me,” he murmured to Meghan as he lifted a cookie out of the basket and took a bite. “This is delicious. Meghan, you are such a sweetheart. I’m going to get you anything you want for Christmas. Anything!”
Rebecca glanced up at Meghan and winked. “See?” she whispered to Meghan. “Food is the key to a man’s heart. Maybe by next Christmas, there will be something special on your finger, Meghan. You heard the guy; he’s going to get you anything you want for Christmas.”
10
The Sandy Bay Food Bank was held each morning at the Sandy Bay Community Gymnasium. Meghan was shocked by how many people were present; by her count, nearly two-hundred homeless people were in line for food and services, and she smiled as she watched groups of people happily eat their meals.
“This is quite the production,” Rebecca remarked to Angela as she led them through the gym. “What an efficient process.”
“It’s great, isn’t it?” Angela replied as she walked in front of Rebecca and Meghan. “One of my dear friends from college runs a major food bank on the East Coast, and every year, she comes out here to help us improve our system. Here, come around to the serving side. I’ll show you how it’s done.”
Meghan watched in awe as Angela joined a group of servers giving food to a line of homeless men. The process was efficient; every server gave exactly the same amount of food to each guest, and the portions were very generous. The meals consisted of chicken, spinach salad, an orange, and a roasted red pepper, and Meghan was impressed by the quality of the food.
“The servers all give out food in unison,” she said in amazement. “How do the do it?”
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Angela stepped forward and joined the line, grabbing a serving spoon and smiling at the guest in front of her while still speaking to Meghan. “We offer a half-day training for everyone who wants to help,” she told Meghan as she scooped up a serving of chicken and placed it on a tray. “We train our volunteers to serve quickly and fairly; everyone gets a large, healthy meal, and everyone can leave here with full bellies and good service.”
Meghan watched as Angela served three guests in a row in under ten seconds. “You are so fast.”
“It’s the training,” Angela told her. “We practice serving and use timers, and we bring in treats and prizes to make it more like a competition. It’s all great fun, and we have a steady group here. I’ve been volunteering here for years, so I know our guests pretty well.”
“It’s sweet that you call them guests,” Rebecca said as she eyed a man in a tattered pair of overalls.
Angela shrugged. “Here, these folks are our guests. Homeless people matter. They have feelings and needs. We don’t believe that if someone is down on their luck, that their life loses value. Sure, it gets frustrating when these people gather in front of our restaurant and scare away customers, but at the end of the day, they are just people.”