Page 15 of Daigo

*****

She was having a time of it. After the private tears for her friend's situation and calling out to God to heal Tammy, she was now calm. Her husband was coming home later tonight. She had left the store in the hands of her staff and gone to pick up ingredients for rosemary chicken. A fresh garden salad and baby potatoes would go nicely with it.

Mrs. Bailey, the housekeeper, had been given the weekend off with pay and a bonus for her to go and visit her sister in Maryland. The woman had been so overwhelmed she had given Shelby a hug, but had insisted on tidying, scrubbing, polishing, and doing all of the laundry before she left. She had stopped short of cooking for the weekend.

"No," Shelby had told her with a laugh. "I want to cook for my husband. I don't usually get the chance to do so. Go and have fun with your sister."

Now she was in the ultra-modern kitchen, chopping and measuring ingredients. She had stopped at the dessert. She was not good with the baking and had stopped at the high-end pastry shop to pick up a raspberry soufflé. A bottle of wine was already chilling. The Costa Exuberance would go well with the meal.

And bonus! It was raining. A nice chilly fall rain. Inside was warm and cozy because she had the fire going in the various fireplaces. Music was blaring in her ear. Her husband was often amused at her eclectic mix. She would listen to a mixture of hip-churning reggae and then switch to classical, religious, and blues, depending on the mood.

She was about to put the chicken in the oven when a movement inside the doorway caught her attention and had her screaming!

Chapter 5

"Jesus God!" Her hand was flat on her chest, where her heart was pumping hard.

Her mother-in-law was standing there, as cool as could be, as if she had been invited to tea.

"I knocked and rang the bell, but there was no answer," she was told coolly. Ignoring the disapproving measure of her choice of outfit, Shelby barely resisted the urge to tug at the oversized sweater she had donned over black leggings.

"So. You decided to come right in. You could have called." Her heart rate was slowing down, but her anger was spiking.

The woman looked as if she had just stepped from the pages of 'Rich and Influential' in her chic and sensible teal-blue pantsuit. Her hair was ruthlessly combed back into an elegant chignon at the nape of her neck. Yuna Nakano personified understated elegance and always managed to make Shelby feel grubby and gauche. Well, hell, this was her home, and the woman was uninvited.

"I do have the code, as you recall."

"How could I forget," Shelby muttered. Turning around, she put the chicken in the oven. "Would you like something? A cup of tea?" The polite overture was forced, but the woman was her husband's mother, after all. She couldn't just shove her out the door, as much as she wished it.

"Jasmine tea will do." Firming her lips, Yuna went to sit at the table tucked beneath the large bay window, one that Shelby had added since she started living here. The woman had made so many changes that it was hard to keep track. She had changed her son's place with her tacky décor, and Daigo had allowed her. She was allowed too many liberties, Yuna thought distastefully as she watched Shelby put the kettle on and root around in the pantry for the box of tea.

"Where's the housekeeper?" The prim, cultured voice had Shelby stiffening. She never understood why she was able to face anything, stand up to anyone, except when it came to the woman sitting at her dining room table.

"Er- I-I gave her the weekend off." Finding the box, she shook two pouches out and realized she was having jasmine tea even though she truly hated the stuff. This was ridiculous! After all, it was her house, and she was the mistress here-

"What on earth for?" Yuna looked down her straight nose at her. "And here you are, puttering about in the kitchen. A wife of my son's distinction does not lower herself to do menial tasks such as cooking a meal, or even wearing-" She gestured with one hand, disdaining Shelby's outfit. "Whatever that is."

"It's called comfortable clothes." Stiffening her spine, Shelby decided it was time to fight back. "And I wanted to do something for my husband's return. I don't find housework demeaning, having done it countless times when I was single."

"Things are different now. Thank you." Yuna accepted the tea and studied the delicate chinaware critically. When she could not find any fault with it, she gestured for Shelby to have a seat. "I was supposed to come before now but was tied up. As you know, the fall charity benefit is being mostly funded by our company." Taking a delicate sip of the tea, she paused to savor the blend. "I would have thought you would be fully involved-"

"I have work-"

"Something I don't for the life of me understand, and I cannot figure out why my son allows it," she retorted primly. "A woman of your position-"

"Needs her independence and relishes it. I did not marry your son for his money, as much as you like to think I did. I happen to love what I do. It might not be important to you, but that does not matter to me. Accept it or don't; I don't care."

Yuna bristled and decided not to push it. Time enough for this sort of discussion later.

"I want to talk to you about this IVF business."

"Why?"

"My son is torn in two about it."

"That would be between me and my husband." Shelby was getting weary of the back-and-forth and wanted the woman out of her house. "And we've already decided to go along with it."

Yuna's lips pursed as she stared at the younger woman. "And you're not concerned, or even the least bit put out, that he's only doing it to please you? The last time I spoke to him, he was miserable and divided. How can you be so selfish?"