Chapter 23: Mom!
Cautiously descending the mahogany staircase to the front hall, Iva prepared her phone once again to make a quick 911 call. Otto or De-Peyster---was nowhere to be seen. Her stomach fluttered in anticipation, or fear, she couldn't really define it.
Was he still outside, or had he returned inside? Was he leaving or going? She didn't know whether to be discomfited by the fact that he owned the house and had opened the bathroom door on her thinking she was an intruder, or angry that he hadn't called out his presence---or was too obtuse to realize a woman was in the house.
Hadn't her open suitcase lying on the bed and half full of feminine apparel screamed that fact? Still, she wanted to know where he was. And it wasn't just because she wanted to hit him over the head with a rusted wrench. The realization was disconcerting. A contradiction in what she should be doing, which was locking the bedroom door and calling the police to arrest him.
But had this Otto guy broken the law? Not exactly. Only a terrifying misunderstanding that had aged her at least five years. By the time she opened the front door the Westminster Chime had repeated fully twice over.
Iva's jaw dropped to the ground. "Mom! What are you doing here?"
Mrs. Remington had the good sense to look abashed. "I just made this blueberry crumble cake with that cinnamon butter topping you love so much and I thought, what a perfect housewarming gesture."
She beamed at her eldest daughter while Iva inwardly groaned. "I've been here for all of about four hours, Mom. I've been trying to get to bed for the past hour."
Mrs. Remington shook her graying blonde hair out of her eyes and stepped inside without waiting to be invited. "I know it's late, but when I get the urge to cook I just can't help myself."
Iva knew better to believe her mother's fibs. She wanted to see the house and couldn't wait for Iva to get settled and receive a personal invitation.
"Who's in the car? Dad?"
Her mother's shoulders lifted in a helpless gesture. "He wasn't too happy about this actually. He's even wearing his slippers, which is always difficult when trying to drive a stick shift."
Iva tried not to snort. She could only shake her head at her silly parents.
"We had to come right away because blueberry crumble is best eaten warm. Too bad you don't have any ice cream to make
it a la mode."
Iva forces herself not to do an eye roll.
"Yes, the house is devoid of food because I don't normally go grocery shopping at ten o'clock at night."
"Of course, you don't." Gripping the ceramic dish with her hot pads, Mrs. Remington took the time to scan Iva up and down, her eyes zeroing in on the grease stains still adorning her work clothes. I think you forgot to shower before getting ready for bed, dear."
Iva gritted her teeth. "Don't even start, Mom."
"Do you have a clean uniform for tomorrow?"
"Yes, I have a clean uniform. Now don't keep Dad waiting. If he honks the horn the neighbors will be upset and bang down my
door."
Her mother laughed, reminding Iva of Britney Willis on the phone just moments before. "People in Vancouver don't bang down people's doors."