Page 40 of Inevitable Inheritance

“I’m already in here!”

“Then don’t come closer!”

“I can’t see anything, the glass in fogged,” Derrick said, and Taylor watched through the glass as his shape continuing to approach.

“Derrick, don’t you dare come any closer,” Taylor warned.

“Well, you know, Taylor,” Derrick said, leaning his back to the shower glass, “you don’t have any more clothes with you.”

Now she was in a pickle because he was right, unless … “I’ll just put my other clothes back on.”

“Not if I take them now,” Derrick said and was out of the bathroom like lightening.

Taylor groaned and smiled to herself a little. It was sort of nice to be back in her skin and not have to lie, at least to Derrick.

Taylor cleaned up, washing with all the manly stuff that was in the shower. And when she got out, she was happy to see fluffy white towels in the linen closet and two massively lush robes on the back of the bathroom door.

She opened the door to find Derrick sitting across from its opening, his hands covering his eyes. She tried not to smile, but it was ineffective.

“You can look, geek. I’m decent,” Taylor said.

“Damn! I was hoping to catch a little something,” Derrick said, taking his hands down. “I guess I didn’t really think it through, though. Figures a bathroom would have towels and robes.”

Taylor rolled her eyes and shook her head, making her way to the door.

“Where you going?” Derrick asked, getting up and making strides to her.

“Uh, your sister’s room. I doubt I will find clothing for me in here,” Taylor then thought for a moment. “Well, I might, but I don’t want to wear any of it.”

Derrick puffed his chest up. “I do not have any person’s clothes in here other than mine—”

“Settle down, killer, it was a joke,” Taylor cut him off. “Anyway, I need to get dressed,” she informed him and left him in his room, pissed off and still holding her dirty clothes.

* * *

An hour later,Taylor was outfitted in a personally styled Marty Fletcher original. Her hair was perfectly styled too. And, last but not least, she had makeup on to—as Marty made clear—only accent the perfection that Taylor already was.

As the newly freshened Taylor made her way to the kitchen, she stopped suddenly in front of some pictures in the hall. They had always been there; Taylor had passed by them all hundreds of times in her life, but now she was drawn into them. There were family photos of Derrick and Marty with their parents, and pictures of Derrick’s grandparents. There were pictures of Taylor and her parents too.

She missed them. She missed the time she was supposed to get together with them. She missed that her dad had never gotten to see her enter middle school, let alone walk her down the aisle. She missed that her mom wasn’t there after her grandfather died, to help her and take care of her. She missed being a family. It felt like she had been given the whole package for such a short time, she was afraid she had fantasized how great it had been, but when she looked at the pictures here and saw how happy she looked, how happy her parents looked, she knew it was all as good as she remembered.

There were pictures of Simon and Delia’s wedding too. The styles sure had changed, Taylor mused. Simon and Delia looked so young. And so did her dad, who stood next to Simon in a tux. He was so very handsome, Taylor thought and was startled as she scanned the picture and saw Cedric standing next to her father. She only recognized him because of pictures she had seen previously. He had never looked like the young, carefree, or happy soul he was in the picture. What had changed in him?

Taylor shook her head as she looked over the other pictures and saw her parents’ wedding picture. She felt tears well up in her eyes. They were glowing, just so happy—the way a marriage should be, she thought, twirling the insane ring Derrick had given her around her finger. She looked at her mother and father smiling so widely at each other. They were flanked by Simon and Delia, and next to Simon was—Cedric? He looked so different from Simon’s wedding photo. Taylor dug deep in her memory. If she remembered right, her parents were married one year after Simon was. He wasn’t smiling in this one; his face was serious, his posture stiff.

“They loved you so much.”

“Oh my God!” Taylor jumped and shouted as Simon appeared silently behind her. Spinning to the older Fletcher, she put her hand to her chest, “My goodness, Simon, you scared me!” Taylor laughed now in relief.

“I’m sorry,” Simon said, smiling at her. “I saw you admiring the pictures, and I didn’t want to ruin the moment.” He looked over her shoulder at the pictures behind her and motioned his head. “They loved you very much, Taylor. You were their sun,” he said as his eyes stayed locked on her parents’ wedding pictures.

“I know,” Taylor said, and she wasn’t cutting him off or changing the subject. She really did know. That was probably why she was so lost now. Up until her grandfather’s last day, Taylor had felt love all around her, and she knew her family was with her. But that light died with him. It was just her and Cedric, and there had only been darkness there. “Simon, can I ask you something?” Taylor implored as she too looked back at the pictures.

“Of course,” Simon answered happily. Simon had always been a fixture in her life. Taylor was comfortable with him; she felt she could ask him anything and he would answer her honestly.

“What happened to Cedric?”

Simon stiffened and peered over at Taylor, his brow raised in confusion.

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