Jorden looked in awe at the driveway which curved back, making it impossible to see the house from the road. The silhouette of his home was of an older colonial style. Even in the darkness she could see the home’s grand features. There were three floors with a series of symmetrical windows. The top of the house had three prominent dormer windows. A triple-car garage stood separately towards the back. Alex pulled the Mustang around and parked in the third space.

“Come on. Let’s go in. I know Mother is up and wants to meet you. My father is in New York City—business as usual. He won’t get back until next week. He sends his apologies.”

“I’m sorry. I had hoped to meet him.” Jorden was disappointed—she had wanted to meet both of his parents.

“Can’t we sit out here for a while? I’m so nervous.”

“Mother won’t bite. Come on, she’s looking forward to meeting you.” Alex got out, opened the trunk, and lifted her luggage out. Reluctantly, Jorden got out. Together they made their way up a set of stone stairs, leading into a large warm kitchen. A dining alcove was off to the right with a table which could easily fit six. A cozy fireplace highlighted the far corner on an elevated hearth.

Jorden watched a tall, willowy woman make her entrance into the kitchen. Medium-length auburn hair silhouetted her face in a stylish cut. Jorden couldn’t stop staring at her future mother-in-law.

“Oh, here you are. I thought I heard you drive in,” Margo Whelan said as she greeted them.

Impeccably dressed, though casual, Margo Whelan wore navy blue gabardine slacks, a light blue silk blouse sporting a large flaring collar, and a pair of navy flats. Visible double stitching on her shoes made them stand out. She exuded expensive taste. Jorden assumed she turned heads with her classy look.

Jorden was captivated by Mrs. Whelan, but there were no hugs from his mother. The difference between Alex’s mother and Jorden’s were glaring. Mary Marshall was always kind, gentle, and down-to-earth. She made company feel welcomed. Those vibes weren’t coming through from Mrs. Whelan.

“Mom, I want you to meet Jorden.” Alex’s tone seemed stressed.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Margo Whelan,” she replied, extending her hand.

“Good to finally meet you,” Jorden managed to squeeze out while she reached for her hand.

“Would you like something to eat? I could make you a sandwich.”

“Thank you. I’m fine.” Though, she wasn’t really as her stomach growled. Jorden remembered she hadn’t eaten since breakfast, but she would never expect Mrs. Whelan to make her a sandwich.

“I’m sure you’re tired—I’ll show you to the guest room.” Margo nodded toward the stairs. “It’s on the second floor. Alex, please bring Jorden’s bags.”