I hear them moving and see their blurred shapes through the indoor waterfall. Then, abruptly, they stop.
“My goodness. Is that…The Kama Sutra?”
Oh, crap! The statue! I should’ve put something over it. What is she going to think, seeing it in the living room like that? Who the hell would consider it an acceptable piece of art to display when you have your mother-in-law coming over?
“Barron sent it,” Nate says quickly.
“He sometimes has the oddest taste.”
Yeah, I agree.
“Doesn’t he know it’s totally inappropriate?” she says.
“You know him. He does what he wants.”
She makes a sound of disapproval. I wonder if I’m going to hear it again when she sees me and the dinner I made. My palms sweat copiously, and I wipe them against the back of my skirt, hoping they don’t leave wet spots.
Nate and his mother make their way around the waterfall, and I finally come face to face with Blanche Sterling.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Evie
The first thing I think when I see her is that she looks nothing like Kim’s boss’s wife. If it weren’t for Nate’s solicitous hand at her elbow and calling her “Mom,” I would’ve never realized she’s Blanche Sterling.
Her hair is silver. I don’t think it’s seen dye in months, if ever. It frames her face like a cloud, and her skin isn’t unlined from Botox or fancy creams. There are fine laugh lines fanning from the outer corners of her eyes, and her cheeks and mouth also have wrinkles that say she smiles a lot and enjoys her life.
The white T-shirt and jeans on her aren’t designer items. They’re stuff you can pick up from TJ Maxx or some similar store. Her feet are encased in a pair of gray New Balance sneakers.
Blanche walks toward me, her hands stretched out. “You must be Evie! I’m so glad to meet you in person.”
I hold her hands and smile, the knot in my belly loosening a bit. “Hello, Mrs. Sterling. The pleasure’s mine.”
“Don’t start with that Mrs. Sterling stuff. That’s so formal, and we’re family now. Feel free to call me Blanche. Or you can just use Mom, like Nate.”
No way. That’s not something I’m comfortable with. It’s already bad enough I’m lying about being married to her son. So I keep my mouth closed and smile.
She continues, “I wish I’d been at the wedding. It’s very inconsiderate of my son to elope, and in Vegas of all places! Nate can more than afford to give you a nice wedding.”
I keep smiling, since I can’t quite agree or disagree with her.
“Mom, aren’t you hungry?” Nate says.
“Of course.” She looks at the table, and her dark eyes light up. “Oh, this looks amazing. You shouldn’t have.” She smiles at me, and I can finally relax. “I would’ve been more than happy with Nate’s usual Chinese takeout.”
Nate groans. “Mom. It was just that one time.”
“And the one before, and the one before that,” she says. “You’d think your last name was Chen.”
I laugh, amused by her dry tone. “Chinese takeout is very convenient, and we have a lot of great places. But I wanted our first meal together to be home-cooked.”
“Well, it smells absolutely divine. Thank you, my dear. You’re so kind. I know my visit’s unplanned.”
Her graciousness banishes the last bit of my tension, and I smile with relief. Maybe this is going to work.
She and I sit down. Nate brings out a bottle of chilled white wine from the cooler. I’m glad he picked it, because he undoubtedly knows how to pair the right type with the food I’ve made.
He pours three glasses, and we toast to a happy marriage, hahaha. I bring my glass to my lips, then pause. Somehow the wine smells really off. But Nate and Blanche seem to be enjoying theirs, so maybe it’s just me.