grateful he did. I've already had several phone calls from the media asking for my reaction. I'm glad I had a better understanding of the situation."
Matt nodded tightly. "From that point of view, I guess it was appropriate," he relented.
His mother smiled. "Now, I'm not trying to get rid of you, Matt," she said, changing the subject. "But I do need your opinion on a horse sale Lew is taking care of for me tomorrow. Do you think you can go look at those yearlings and make sure he's set a fair asking price?"
"Mother, Lew knows a lot more about the correct price than I do," Matt protested.
But Mrs. Jordan made a swishing motion with her hands. "You run along and give me a chance to get to know Kara a little better," she laughed. Turning to the young woman, she added, "I never could put one over on him."
Matt gave them both an exaggerated shrug and headed out of the room.
"Now come into the family room and sit down," Mrs. Jordan said, turning to Kara. "I had that wing added several years ago. The original house was built before the Civil War."
Obediently, Kara followed the older woman down a short hallway.
Mrs. Jordan was still rattling on. "And my dear, you must call me Elizabeth. We don't stand on formalities around here."
The family room was comfortably furnished with a beige velvet sectional sofa making a U in front of the brick fireplace. The coffee and end tables were of chrome and glass. And one wall was lined with fruitwood cabinets topped by ceiling-high bookshelves.
Mrs. Jordan gestured for Kara to sit on the left side of the sofa, as she crossed to one of the bookshelves and took down a large oatmeal-colored volume with blue lettering.
"After Frank Adams left, your name jogged my memory," the older woman told Kara as she came to sit beside her on the couch. "So I got out my old college yearbook and had a look at it."
Kara gazed at her expectantly.
"Do you know your mother and I were classmates at Goucher College over thirty-six years ago? And you look so much like her, I feel as if I've known you a long time already."
Kara stared at her mother-in-law in surprise.
"You mean you really knew my mother, Mrs. Jordan?" she questioned.
"Yes. And I do want you to call me Elizabeth the way she did." While the elder Mrs. Jordan was talking, she flipped the pages of the yearbook. "See, here I am," she pointed to a youthful version of herself. "And here's your mother."
"Oh, you were Elizabeth Remington. Why, I've looked at my mother's yearbook dozens of times. But of course I never knew who you were," Kara exclaimed.
Elizabeth Jordan patted the young woman's hand. "I know how much your mother meant to you, Kara," she said gently. "She was a wonderful person. And I was just sick when I heard about the plane crash that took her and your father. We had lost track of each other soon after she got married, and I didn't even know that she had a daughter until yesterday."
Kara nodded numbly.
"I know she would have been so proud of you. Frank Adams tells me you're a public relations specialist. Did you know your mother had a promising career as a journalist before she got married? She made much better use of her education than I did. I got married right after graduation and had Matt ten months later."
Kara studied Mrs. Jordan. Here was a woman who seemed to know more about her mother than she herself did. Maybe this explained why she felt so comfortable and secure with Matt's mother.
"We'll have to reminisce sometime soon," Mrs. Jordan promised. "But right now I want to talk about you and Matt."
Kara felt herself growing tense. How could she talk to Matt's mother about the confusing swirl of events that had swept her up into this crazy marriage?
But Mrs. Jordan seemed unaware or unwilling to acknowledge her distress.
"My philosophy is that everything always turns out for the best, Kara. And even though this marriage had a rather unusual beginning, I'm sure that you and Matt will be able to work things out."
Kara
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