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When she arrived at the Estate, it was late afternoon. Hopefully, Mom and she could have a talk before dinner. By then, she hoped to be on her way. The butler was surprised to see her.
“Is Mom in?”
“Yes, Mrs. Scott is in the drawing room. Can I take your coat, Dr. Scott?”
She had given up long ago trying to make the older man call her Ivy. Once he had taken her coat and she removed her ankle boots, she followed the sound of the piano. Mom was a gifted pianist. Ivy stood in the door as her mother-in-law played a haunting tune. God. She hoped it wasn’t a forbearing of things to come. Once she played the last note, Ivy clapped. Mom gasped.
“Darling, you gave me a freight. What a lovely surprise.” She moved away from the piano and met Ivy halfway. Drawing her into a fierce hug.
For such a dainty lady, she was deceptively strong.
“What do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” As she pulled back slightly from her daughter-in-law, she made the observation. “Hm, it looks like you are carrying the weight of the world on your shoulder. It is almost teatime. Let’s go through to the sunroom and we can talk about it.”
Before Ivy could object to the tea, her hand was clasped firmly, and she was led to one of her favourite rooms in the place. As they walked, Ivy was asked about her trip. She, of course, omitted her visit with Jasmine Journee. She was able to be partially truthful. “I was on my way home when I had the sudden urge to come by and see you.”
“Well, I am always happy to see you, Darling.” She stopped and pulled her into another one of her Wonder Woman/supermom hugs.
Once they were seated, and the tea was poured. Her mother-in-law looked at her. “My, you look serious. Would this talk be better served with something stronger?”
Ivy shook her head. She had to bite back a bark of laughter at the slight pout on the older woman’s face. Her mother-in-law never passed up an opportunity to have some brandy.
“I take it this is about you and Emmanuel?”
“No. Not really.”
“Hm. I keep asking if you are okay and you tell me you are coping.”
“Because I am.”
“I see. Tell me how your date on Saturday was.” Ivy felt the flush creep up her neck as memories assailed her.
Her mother-in-law smiled warmly and reached over and patted her hand. “Well. If your expression is any indication, it went well.”
“It did.”
“I am glad you two are working things out. I’ve always known you two were meant to be. He would come home and complain about his next-door neighbour. I would smile and indulge him because I knew he was already half gone for you.” Her mother-in-law never tired of recounting this tidbit of their history. For all intents and purposes, her mother-in-law was the family historian. She loved recounting stories.
The woman was also an absolute menace with any visual recording devices. Either she or someone she hired was there to capture all their moments. With both pictures and videos. In a digital world, she still insisted that everything be printed. Pretty much every moment of Emmanuel’s life was recorded. It was one of the things he grumbled about the most.
“You have no idea what it was like growing up with the photographer. My Mom was before her time. She has always been capturing every single moment.”
Ivy thought he had been exaggerating, but she had pulled out her high-lens camera the first time she met her.
“I have a feeling this meeting is going to be very special. I want to capture it.” Flash. Flash.
It had just been the beginning. Every moment her mother-in-law was around, she would see to it that it was captured on film. If Ivy thought, it was a lot when it was just her and Manny. Well. Grace seemed to double her efforts when it came to capturing the lives and achievements of her grandchildren. The children didn’t mind; it was all they knew. It was so second nature to them.
One of the children would say, “make sure you take a picture for Grandma.”
“Will you stay for dinner? Larson is off having dinner with some members of the board?”
Ivy made a mental note to shoot Manny a text and let him know what his father was doing. Yes, granted, Larson had known some of those men for decades and some were friends, but she had her guard up where he was concerned. As much as Larson wanted his son to take over the company. Sometimes she felt like her father-in-law was jealous of the great job his son was doing. Especially because Manny wasn’t running the company the way his father did.
“You know what? I’d love to have dinner with you. What are we having?”
“Korvstroganoff, I felt for something hearty. Oh, and we have fresh Limpa.”
“Sounds good. I will wash up and join you in the dining room.” It was one of the Swedish dishes that Ivy had gotten used to. She liked the gravy and enjoyed the rye bread.
