Murder [and Baklava] (A European Voyage #1)- Blake Pierce Page 0,4
friends think it’s cool that my aunt is the captain of a ship.”
Tia patted Bret on the head.
“Uh, Bret, Aunt London isn’t exactly a captain,” she said.
“What is she then? A sailor?”
London could tell from Tia’s expression that she’d momentarily forgotten her actual job title.
“I’m what’s called a ‘hostess,’ hon,” London said to Bret.
“Like when Mom throws a party?”
London shrugged and said, “Well, yeah, kind of.”
“With presents and everything?”
London had no idea what to say. How could she explain to a seven-year-old the intricacies of working as a hostess on a gigantic cruise ship? Every day involved scores of logistical challenges and almost nonstop one-on-one human contact. It was up to her to organize and oversee games of shuffleboard, table tennis, and bridge, as well as birthday parties, dining activities, concerts, and much, much more. Her job was to help make sure that everything went perfectly, and she was good at her job.
And then there’s the fresh air, she thought with a twinge of melancholy.
On most mornings when she stepped out on deck, London enjoyed the ocean air. Although Connecticut could be pleasant this time of year, she hadn’t even been able to get outside yet. She briefly wondered why the kids were still inside the house on what appeared to be a nice day. Hadn’t her sister once said she’d chosen to live in the suburbs because they’d have big back yards and parks?
Tia patted her son on the head again. He still didn’t move from the spot.
“Adults are talking, sweetie,” she repeated.
“OK.”
This time Bret turned around and wandered away. At that very moment, the two girls almost ran the little boy down as they came charging into the kitchen trying to cut each other to ribbons with Star Wars–style LED light sabers. Bret let out a yell and grabbed futilely at one of their weapons.
This time, Tia simply ignored all of them.
It was a lost cause, after all, London realized. As soon as Tia quelled any racket in this house, a louder racket would spring up right under both of their noses.
“What about the ring?” Tia asked over the renewed burst of noise.
“What about it?” London said, not exactly understanding the question.
“Is it nice?”
“I suppose. Pretty. Expensive. Diamonds and all.”
“Well, show it to me,” Tia said.
“I don’t have it.”
Tia shuddered from head to toe. She let out a little scream of sheer horror.
“Oh, no! You threw it away?”
Both girls stopped swinging their sabers long enough to demand, almost in unison, “You threw the ring away?”
“No eavesdropping,” Tia snapped. “Back into the family room. Your aunt and I need a chance to talk.
When the girls didn’t budge, she added, “I’ll tell you all about it later.”
Giggling, the girls trotted out of the kitchen with the boy close behind.
When they were gone, London explained, “I didn’t accept it. I haven’t decided whether to marry him.”
Tia slapped the table with her palm.
“Then let me decide for you. We’ll get him on the phone right now.”
“Tia, no,” London said.
But Tia kept talking as if she hadn’t said a word.
“You’ll tell him you were a dope last night, and you’ll apologize profusely, and you’ll explain that it was just a fit of temporary insanity, and tell him yes, yes, yes over and over again, and then you’ll ask when is a convenient time for you to see him again and you’ll give him a big kiss and presumably fall into bed with him. Let’s get him on the phone.”
“No.”
Tia’s lower lip began to jut ominously.
Oh, no. She’s going to pout.
“I take this personally, London,” she said.
Of course you do, London thought.
Tia continued, “And I’m sure Bernard is going to feel the same way. Have you forgotten we introduced you to Ian?”
No, I haven’t forgotten.
Tia went on, “Don’t you remember what a basket case you were after you broke up with that jerk Albert?”
Of course I remember.
And at the time, London had felt deeply grateful to Tia and her husband, Bernard, for fixing her up with such a regular, steady, pleasant guy. It had seemed like exactly what she’d needed after dating an unpredictable sociopath.
Bernard was a partner in Ian’s CPA business. In fact, Bernard and Ian were best friends. Bernard had gone golfing this morning, and now it occurred to London that he and Ian might well be out on the course together. Would they be discussing Ian’s plans for London?
No, she thought. More likely long-term interest rates.