The young woman leaned in, “I’m so happy to meet you Mrs. Ridge,” she said, wrapping her soft, elegant hands around mine.
A light, floral scent followed her every move, reminding me of someone. Anxiety niggled at the back of my mind. I searched her lovely face for a hint. “My pleasure dear.” …I need to remember. “What was your name, again?”
She pulled her chair closer. “Most my friends call me Taffy.”
“How cute, nickname?”
“Yeah, since high school.”
“Did I know your mother?”
“Yes, very well,” she said, voice cracking. “Shall I tell you about her?”