“Has Amy said anything about them?” Vera asked, interrupting Leda’s musings.
“No. But Amy hasn’t been spending much time with Hayley this summer.”
“Of course,” Vera said. “The almighty Cressida has Amy in her bony grip.”
“How do you know it’s bony?”
“I’ve seen her. I’d like to drag her into Over Easy one of these days and force-feed her my blueberry pancake special.”
“Forget about Cressida Prior. I just hope that if something romantic is brewing between Hayley and Ethan Whitby, Hayley stays on her usual guard.” Leda frowned. “So many things might go wrong. I would hate to see her get hurt.”
“Everyone gets hurt at least once in romance, and I should know. But I understand what you’re saying. The kid has had enough thrown at her what with that family of hers. So,” Vera asked, “how are you handling all this waiting around for the FAF to announce the winners?”
“Not well. To be honest, it’s driving me a bit crazy, but I have plenty of work to keep me busy.”
“Work is the antidote to so many unpleasant things,” Vera said. “Retirement is overrated.”
Leda smiled. “I’m not sure everyone would agree with you.”
“No, I suspect most people wouldn’t. But then again, I am an oddball, aren’t I?”
Chapter 94
“This place is great,” Ethan said with a smile. “Well, I suppose anywhere you can have lunch with the ocean a stone’s throw away would be.”
Hayley smiled. “I don’t often get to The Razor Clam. When you suggested we have lunch I thought, now’s my chance.”
Ethan laughed and dug into his fried clams.
The day before they had run into each other at The Bookworm, where Hayley had taken the girls for story hour. Before they had parted Ethan had asked if she wanted to meet for lunch today. “I know you probably have lots to do on your day off,” he added hurriedly. “But . . .”
“Sure,” Hayley had said promptly. But she had hardly slept the night before, not with memories of their chance meeting at The White Hart, the feel of Ethan’s hands on her shoulders as he pulled her from the path of the speeding car, the image of his lovely face running through her mind. Hayley had finally gotten out of bed at five that morning. A hot shower and several cups of coffee had revived her enough to face what might turn out to be a verifiable date with Ethan, an event about which she felt very, very confused.
And now here they were at noon, sitting across from each other at a picnic table, a man and a woman, not really friends, not lovers, not . . . Hayley took a long gulp of her ice water and prayed she wouldn’t do or say anything embarrassing. Or wrong. Or . . .
“I read this interesting article last night,” Ethan said suddenly. “It made me think of what you told me about your taking a break from college to explore other avenues. According to this writer there’s a sort of grassroots movement among young people today against going right into college after high school. In some areas, there’s even a feeling against going to college at all. I can understand that. I mean, college costs are insane these days. It’s just that it certainly doesn’t hurt to have a degree.” Ethan frowned. “That said, some of my college classmates graduated more ignorant than when they started.”
“Partiers?” Hayley asked.
“Yeah,” Ethan admitted.
“The idea of people throwing away their college years makes my blood boil. If you’re lucky enough to have the money to go to college, then you shouldn’t be stupid enough to waste the opportunity!”
Ethan smiled. “You sound just like my father. He’s totally self-made, the first in his family to go to college, the first to pursue a career rather than a job. He knows what it’s like to struggle. One of the reasons I have so much respect for him is that he never stooped to anything unethical or criminal to get ahead. That’s not always the case with people who’ve reached the heights he’s reached.”
Hayley squirmed. You could very easily argue that what she was planning to do—what she had been planning to do, entice someone into a marriage for her own convenience—was seriously unethical.
“Do you think he’s lucky as well as being smart and hardworking?” she asked. Luck was a topic about which everyone had an opinion.
“I don’t know how to answer that,” Ethan said. “I’m not sure I believe in luck. Bad things happen to everyone and good things happen to everyone. I guess what makes a difference between one life and another is how the person living that life deals with the good and the bad.”
Hayley poked at her fried clams and considered. Some people believed that you made your own luck. Were they right? Was it possible to mold your future into a form that would benefit you without necessarily hurting others? Up until this summer Hayley’s life had felt totally outside of her control. She had seen setting her cap on Ethan as a way to grasp control from the universe, to make her own luck. But in doing so she would be hurting someone. Ethan.
“You’re very good with my sisters,” Ethan said suddenly.
Hayley looked up from her clams and smiled. “Thanks,” she said. “I love children.”
“Then you must be excited to have a family of your own.”
Hayley hesitated. “I look forward to having a family with the right man,” she said carefully.
“I love kids, too,” Ethan said, “and I definitely want a family. Only one problem. I haven’t met my children’s mother.”
“Has there been someone serious?” Hayley asked. It was a normal, conversational question, wasn’t it?
“Yes, there was,” Ethan said. “I was almost engaged—I’d even started to shop for the ring—when she broke things off because she’d fallen in love with another guy.”
“I’m sorry,” Hayley said earnestly.
“I was, too,” Ethan admitted. “I had no idea she was seeing someone behind my back, and someone I knew at that. That was three years ago. I’m still an unrepentant romantic but a wiser one.”
“What was she like, your almost fiancée?” Hayley asked.
“She’s a software designer,” Ethan told her. “She has her own company now.”
Of course Ethan’s former girlfriend owned a software design company, Hayley thought a bit wildly. And this was the man she thought she could entice into marrying her, a woman who had achieved no more in her life than not quite two years at the community college and sometimes, only sometimes, being able to keep her mother from harm. Hayley managed a smile. “How did you two meet?” she asked.
“We were both traveling in Europe the summer after graduate school,” Ethan explained. “We met in London through a mutual friend. Thinking back, I see that I was fooling myself from the start. I wasn’t in love with Patricia as much as I was in love with the idea of someone wanting to get married and have kids. It was for the best that the relationship ended.”
“Is she married to the guy she left you for?” Hayley asked.
“Yes,” Ethan said. “There’s no animosity between Patricia and me. I’m glad she’s happy.”
Hayley stared at the untouched pile of French fries on her plate. Of course Ethan was glad for his former girlfriend. He was a kind and generous man.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Ethan asked.
“Sorry,” Hayley said, managing another smile. “I was . . . I was just thinking about an article I read the other day in Town and Country. It was about destination weddings. Italy is really popular. And the Caribbean islands are always in the top ten.”
Ethan looked at her with surprise. “I didn’t have you pegged as someone who reads Town and Country.”
Hayley bristled. The entire conversation had gotten badly out of control. “Why not?” she demanded.
“I’ve seriously stuck my foot in my mouth now,” Ethan said hurriedly. “I supposed you didn’t read glossies because you seem so interested in more important things than debutante balls and destination weddings. But now that I know you do read about debutante balls and destination w
eddings . . . I still think you’re really intelligent. I don’t mean—”
Hayley laughed, ashamed of her earlier defensiveness. “Stop! It’s okay, I get it. I am intelligent but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy some mindless downtime on occasion.”
“Me too. Have you ever watched Pawn Buddies? It’s a pretty good show. You can learn a lot about history.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Hayley promised. He really was adorable when he was being earnest.
“So, have you ever had your heart broken?” Ethan asked suddenly.
Hayley hesitated. She could lie again but . . . no. She couldn’t lie. She just couldn’t. “I haven’t, actually,” she admitted. “I guess it’s because I’ve . . . I’ve never been in love.”
“Some would say you’re lucky,” Ethan pointed out.
Hayley smiled. “We’re back to the subject of luck.”
Ethan leaned slightly forward and looked steadily at her. “Maybe I do believe in luck after all,” he said.
Hayley looked steadily back at Ethan with no idea of what message her eyes were conveying. Could he possibly be referring to their having met this summer? She thought he might be. But of course not. That would be too perfect, and perfect things didn’t happen to Hayley Franklin. To any of the Franklins.
Hayley was aware that the silence between them was beginning to stretch uncomfortably. Ethan must have thought so, too. “Maybe we should be going,” he said suddenly, lowering his gaze.
Hayley got up from the bench. “Yes,” she said. “All right.”
Ethan carried their trays to a trash can and then rejoined Hayley. They began the walk to Ethan’s car, parked at the edge of town. They had not gone far when Hayley heard someone call, “Ethan! Over here!”
Ethan turned in the direction of the voice, and a frown appeared on his face.
“A friend?” Hayley asked, looking at the man who had caught Ethan’s attention. He was standing with his arm slung around the slim shoulders of a woman.
“No,” Ethan said shortly. “Someone I work with. Come on. We’ll have to say hello now that they’ve seen us.”
As they approached the man and woman, both of whom looked to be around Ethan’s age, Hayley swiftly took in the huge diamond ring on the woman’s left hand, the handbag with a designer logo, the clothing that fit her perfectly. Though the day was sweltering, the woman looked perfectly cool and composed. Hayley was acutely aware of the sweat running down the back of her neck. The contrast between this woman and Hayley was glaring. At least it felt glaring to Hayley. For a brief moment, she wondered if Ethan noticed the extreme contrast and felt embarrassed to be seen with her. No, she thought. Maybe some men, but not Ethan.
“Imagine running into you here,” the man said when Ethan and Hayley had joined the couple. Hayley took an instant dislike to him. If she had been a superficial sort, the weak chin and beady eyes might have turned her off, but it was something more significant that repelled her, a sense of assumed superiority that virtually oozed from him.
At the same moment that Ethan was saying, “Jeff, Marie, this is my friend Hayley,” Hayley was saying, “I’m the Whitbys’ nanny.”
Hayley cringed, but Ethan smiled. “Hayley is nanny to my sisters this summer,” he went on.
Marie extended her hand. “Nice to meet you,” she said.
“You as well,” Hayley replied.
Jeff did not extend his hand. Instead, he looked Hayley up and down in a way that was not only inappropriate but downright rude. Her blood began to boil and she was afraid her self-control was going to snap, but before she could slap him down with an acid comment, he was saying: “So, Hayley. Do you wear a French maid’s costume when you’re on duty?”
The anger that had flooded Hayley quickly morphed into shame. She had never felt so humiliated. The sweat pouring down the back of her neck seemed a cascade now, and she thought she felt a trickle making its way down her temple.
“Hayley is not a maid,” Ethan said firmly. “She’s a professional child-care expert.”
“I had a nanny once,” Marie said quickly, smiling at Hayley. “She was a godsend to my mother. I’m one of five kids.”
Hayley managed a small grateful smile in return.
“We need to be off,” Ethan said abruptly, taking Hayley’s elbow in his hand, a gesture that at any other time and by any other person she would have resented. Then he was hurrying them away in the direction of his car.
“He’s a jerk,” Ethan muttered as they walked. “And mark my words, before long Marie will be sorry she agreed to marry him. I swear I’ll never understand why otherwise intelligent women can make such idiotic mistakes when choosing a husband.”
“Why do you think she chose Jeff?” Hayley asked, her voice a bit uneven.
Ethan frowned and took his hand from Hayley’s elbow. “Money. His father makes mine look like a pauper. But all the money in the world won’t make Marie happy living with that specimen. I just hope she realizes that before they have children. Without children, she’ll be able to make a clean break.”
Hayley felt ashamed. Maybe she and Marie were more alike than she had supposed.
When they reached Ethan’s car Hayley walked around to the front passenger side door. “I usually fight my own battles,” she said before getting in. “Thank you for defending me.”
Ethan held Hayley’s gaze over the roof of the car for a long moment. “It was my pleasure to defend you,” he finally said. “I’m only sorry the need arose in the first place.”
Chapter 95
Amy paced restlessly around her mother’s studio. Harry and Winston were curled up back to back on the love seat. Every once in a while one of them would open a green eye just a little bit and track her progress to nowhere.
Amy was troubled. Maybe if she mentioned to her mother in a casual sort of way how harsh Cressida could be with her family, her mother might have a word of wisdom to offer, a bit of advice that might help Amy handle another uncomfortable situation at the Priors’ house. She would not, however, mention the slap Cressida had given Will or the cup she had thrown against the kitchen wall. That might be giving away too much.
“It’s funny how different people have different parenting styles,” Amy said.
“Funny how?” her mother asked without looking away from her loom.
“Well, like how some parents are always praising their children for doing good work even if the work isn’t really all that good. They just want to encourage their children so the children don’t grow up with low self-esteem.”
“And other parents?” her mother asked.
Amy shrugged. “Cressida, for example. She doesn’t coddle Jordan and Rhiannon at all. In fact, she can be kind of, I don’t know, tough on them. Like the other day, Rhiannon was drawing with some colored pencils and Cressida criticized her work pretty roughly. I thought the drawing was good and so did Will and Jordan. I don’t know. I guess I don’t see why a parent can’t be nice about a child’s efforts.”
“Do you think the children are being mistreated or abused?” her mother asked, finally looking away from the loom. “Because if you do, you have a duty to report the behavior.”
Amy paused. Did witnessing your mother throw a cup against a wall mean you were being abused? She just didn’t know the answer to that question. “Nothing like that,” she said quickly. “It’s just different from how I grew up, so it surprises me. That’s all. Really, Mom, forget it.”
“All right.” Her mother did not immediately turn back to her work. “By the way,” she said, “do you know if Hayley is involved with Ethan Whitby?”
Amy swallowed hard. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. Why? Did someone say something? Because I don’t know anything.”
“Vera said she saw them coming out of The Bookworm one afternoon. That’s all.”
Amy felt relieved. “They probably just bumped into each other. You know.”
“Well, if something is going on, I just hope Hayley doesn’t
get hurt. By the way, do you know what occurred to me the other day?” her mother asked suddenly. “I remember you mentioning at the start of the summer that there was a pool at the Priors’ rental. But I haven’t seen a wet bathing suit in our bathroom.”
“That’s another thing,” Amy blurted. “Back when I started working for Cressida she told me there wasn’t enough chlorine in the state of Maine to get her into the pool. She hates germs. But she lets the children swim in the pool. It seems inconsistent somehow.”
“Maybe Will overruled his wife on the issue,” her mother suggested. “But that doesn’t answer my question. Why haven’t you been using the pool? We’ve had some real scorchers this summer.”
Amy began to flip through a book of fabric samples on her mother’s worktable. “I just assumed Cressida didn’t want me to,” she said. “I mean, she never suggested I use it, so . . .”
“There’s always the ocean if you want a swim,” her mother said blandly before returning to her work.
Amy felt that she had been dismissed. She left the studio and headed for the stairs to the second floor. She wondered if she should have told her mother more of the odd things that had been going on at the Priors’ house—there were so many from which to choose—but the opportunity was lost. Wearily, Amy climbed to her room. There was still a lot of tidying up to do there, like the bottom of the closet to clear out and the weird stain on the windowsill to scrub off. Maybe she would tackle one of those chores. Or maybe not. Probably not.
Chapter 96
Over Easy had closed for the day, but the staff was still busy putting the place to rights and planning for the following morning’s crowd of diners. Leda and Vera were sitting in Vera’s cramped office, drinking coffee and nibbling crullers.
“How does a girl from the Midwest know about crullers?” Leda asked, licking her lips appreciatively. “I always think of them as a New York City thing. Years ago, I met a woman vacationing from Brooklyn and we got chatting about pastries and such, don’t ask me how, and she told me about crullers and bialys. Before then I’d never heard of either.”
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