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Annette Richmond stepped back and frowned at him. “You should have been here earlier.”
“I apologize.” He opened Ivy’s door.
Mom looked past him towards Ivy, who had climbed out of the car. Her eyes widened in surprise as she took in the mismatched outfit.
“Who dressed you today?” Annette asked, her voice showing every ounce of shock and disapproval.
Bastien swiftly reached for Ivy’s hand and explained, “She wanted to dress herself this morning.”
“Allowing a kid in her closet is like letting a fox in the chicken coop. It’s a pure disaster,” Annette said.
He assisted Ivy as she sat in the back and kissed her on the cheek, whispering, “You look beautiful, little ladybug.”
Annette lifted an eyebrow but thankfully did not comment any further. Instead, she shifted her attention to her bags.
“Be careful with the smaller bag. It has my makeup and valuables.”
Bastien couldn’t help but chuckle. “Does it take an entire makeup suitcase to make you presentable?”
“I have jewelry too.”
He grabbed the smaller bag, careful not to disturb the precious cargo inside, and loaded it into the back of their SUV before the others, then headed back to the driver’s side.
“It better be the Hope Diamond with how much that weighed.”
“It’s not easy being a woman. We aren’t allowed to age. If we do, we find ourselves alone.”
Under his breath, he said, “Or at the pool with Francois.” He pulled into traffic.
“What was that?”
“I said, how long are you staying?”
“A few days. Just long enough to bury Chloe and pack up Ivy to return to Atlanta.”
He stepped on the brake, and the car behind them honked in protest. “Ivy is staying with me.”
Bastien’s hands clenched the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white from the pressure of his grip. He glanced briefly at his mother, who was sitting stiffly in the passenger seat. Her pursed lips and tightly crossed arms said everything; he could feel the heat of her disapproval radiating from her like a campfire.
“Don’t be absurd,” she said sharply. “What are you going to do with a five-year-old baby?”
“I’m not a baby,” Ivy protested quietly.
Annette held up her hand to the back seat. “Children are supposed to be seen and not heard.”
“And that’s why Chloe made me promise to raise her,” Bastien said. “She doesn’t want Ivy silenced.”
Annette scoffed but remained quiet.
The atmosphere in the car was oppressive as they drove until, finally, Bastien spoke up again. “Let’s not do this here.”
His mother rolled her eyes but kept quiet, allowing him some small victory in this battle of wills between them.
Bastien glanced into the rearview mirror at Ivy, who was looking at him. He smiled reassuringly at her before refocusing his gaze towards their destination: home–wherever that may be for the time being.
“Mee-maw looks like a pecker.”
Rachel laughed and then snorted.
