“Oh, yes, took it to the Morrison two days ago. They wanted it there in time for the holiday gallery hop tonight. Here, let me take your coat.”
Ian shrugged out of his coat and passed it to her. She hung it in the hall closet. She had a nice place. Very old-fashioned but elegant, just like she was.
“I can’t believe she finished it that fast. I need to go see it.”
“You should. She showed me a photograph. Just exquisite. She said she was inspired,” Mrs. Scheinberg said with an impish twinkle in her eyes. “And a little happiness helps with the creation process. I never believed that old yarn that artists have to be miserable to make art. I know Veronica. She does her best work when she’s happy. And you have made her a very happy lady this month. Sit. I’ll make tea.”
She pointed at the kitchen table chair and Ian sat as he was instructed. He would have offered to help but she seemed completely capable of making tea on her own.
“Thanks for letting me wait here for her,” Ian said. “Any idea when she’ll be back?”
“Soon, I imagine. She’s been gone awhile and she said something about being back in time for dinner with you. You’ve been very good about planning dates, I’ve noticed,” Mrs. Scheinberg said as she put water in her tea maker. “My husband was a planner, too. Very thoughtful. Always planning something fun for us to do together. He’s been gone ten years, but I still have over fifty years of good memories to keep me company until we meet again.”
“Sounds like he was a great husband.”
“The very best. But you’ll make a good husband someday, too. I can tell.” She gave him a little wink as she carried two mugs of tea over to the table.
“You can tell? Good. I’m glad someone can. When I was a kid, I thought by the time I was thirty-six I’d already be married and have kids of my own. I was fifteen years old when my father was my age. I’m running a little behind.”
She waved her hand dismissively.
“Times are changing, Mr. Asher. People live longer. What’s the rush settling down? You settle down when you meet the right person, not because you think it’s the right time. You hadn’t met the right person yet. Now you have.”
Ian smiled behind his tea mug.
“Now I have,” he said.
“That’s good to hear. My son is insisting I move in with him and his wife. He says he can’t sleep at night thinking about me all alone. I tell him I’m not alone, that I have my Veronica one floor above me. He says Veronica can’t always be there. So...he’s right about that. This is proof. My light bulb is out in the bathroom and I can’t stand on the chair to change it. And where’s Veronica? Not here.”
“I’m here.”
“But you won’t always be here, either. And as long as she has you and she’s happy, I can be happy and move in with my son without worrying about her being alone. She’s not alone anymore so I can go.”
“I’m sure she’ll really miss you.”
“She will. But she can come see me anytime she wants. I’ll have my own little house in his backyard. They call it a ‘mother-in-law suite.’ Isn’t that something. A whole house to keep the mother-in-law out from underfoot but close enough to keep me out of trouble.”
“I’ve built a few of those,” Ian admitted. “We call them guesthouses, though. It’s a little less insulting.”
“I’m not insulted. I like my daughter-in-law better than my son most days. She has a sense of humor at least. She has to have one to be married to him. But you know something about that, dating my Veronica. She’s what we always called a ‘tough cookie.’”
“She’s a tough cookie, all right. I must like tough cookies.”
“Smart men do,” Mrs. Scheinberg said, nodding her approval. “Would you like a cookie? I have frosted Christmas cookies.”
“No, thank you. Wait, Christmas cookies? I thought Flash said—”
“Oh, yes, I’m Jewish. But I’m a sucker for a frosted Christmas tree. Veronica sneaks them to me. She’s my dealer.”
“She’s a good one,” Ian said.
“The very best.” Mrs. Scheinberg sat her cup down on the table. “Now that I’ve had my tea, would you do me the favor of changing my bathroom light bulb? I may need to see in there very soon.”
“It’s my pleasure.”
She took him to the bathroom where he quickly replaced the light bulb.
“You’re very tall,” she said. “I’d have to stand on a chair and my balance isn’t what it used to be. Another reason to move in with my son. Do you know him? Moshe Scheinberg?”