New Beginning 772

I sat at the back of the jewelry store curled up in the brown leather chair, hidden behind the glass display cases. We should have closed an hour before, but Aunt Merelda was waiting for something.

She streaked through the small store, touching this, straightening that, making sure everything was perfect. My mother had established the store before she died, which made it mine, but Merelda lived and breathed this store. At least, she did when it suited her, and today it suited her fine. ...