“You’re just saying that. It’s okay. Not everyone has to be beautiful.” She picked up a photo of Tallulah and Bella, this one in a cloth frame. “Your daughters are gorgeous too.”
Daphne’s face lit up. “They’re great kids. I’m extremely blessed.”
Amber continued to study the photograph. Tallulah looked like a little adult with her serious expression and hideous glasses, while Bella, with her blond curls and blue eyes, looked like a little princess. There was going to be a lot of rivalry in their future, Amber thought. She wondered how many boyfriends Bella would steal from her plain older sister when they were teenagers.
“Do you have a picture of Julie?”
“Of course.” Daphne got up and retrieved a photograph from the console table. “Here she is,” she said, handing the frame to Amber.
Amber stared at the young woman, who must have been around fifteen when the picture was taken. She was beautiful in an almost otherworldly way, her big brown eyes bright and shining.
“She’s lovely,” Amber said, looking up at Daphne. “It doesn’t get any easier, does it?”
“No, not really. Some days it’s even harder.”
They finished the bottle of wine and opened another while Amber listened to more stories of Daphne’s tragic fairy-tale relationship with her perfect dead sister. Amber threw a full glass down the sink when she went to the bathroom. As she returned to the living room, she added a little wobble to her walk, and said to Daphne, “I should get going.”
Daphne shook her head. “You shouldn’t drive. You should stay here tonight.”
“No, no. I don’t want to put you out.”
“No arguments. Come on. I’ll take you to a guest room.”
Daphne put an arm around Amber’s waist and led her through the obscenely large house and up the long staircase to the second floor.
“I think I’m going to need the bathroom.” Amber made the words sound urgent.
“Of course.” Daphne helped her in, and Amber shut the door and sat down on the toilet. The bathroom was enormous and elaborate, with a Jacuzzi tub and shower big enough to accommodate the entire royal family. Her studio apartment would have practically fit inside it. When she opened the door, Daphne was waiting.
“Are you feeling any better?” Daphne’s voice was filled with concern.
“Still a bit dizzy. Would it be all right if I did lie down for a minute?”
“Of course,” Daphne said, guiding her down the long hallway to a guest room.
Amber’s keen eye took it all in—the fresh white tulips that looked beautiful against the mint-green walls. Who had fresh flowers in a guest room when they weren’t even expecting guests? The shiny wood floor was partially covered with a thick white flokati rug that added another touch of elegance and luxury. Billowy gauze curtains seemed to float down from the tall windows.
Daphne helped her to the bed, where Amber sat and ran her hand over the embroidered duvet cover. She could get used to this. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she didn’t need to pretend that she felt the dizzying sensation of impending slumber. She saw movement and opened her eyes to see Daphne standing over her.
“You’re going to sleep here. I insist,” Daphne said, and, walking to the closet, opened the door and took out a nightgown and robe. “Here, take your things off and put on this nightgown. I’ll wait out in the hallway while you change.”
Amber peeled off her sweater and threw it on the bed, and stepped out of her jeans. She slipped into the silky white nightgown and crawled under the covers. “All set,” she called out.
Daphne came back in and put a hand on her forehead. “You poor dear. Rest.”
Amber felt a cover being tucked around her.
“I’ll be in my room, just down the hall.”
Amber opened her eyes and reached out to grab Daphne’s arm. “Please don’t go. Can you stay with me like my sister used to?”
She saw the briefest hesitation in Daphne’s eyes before she went over to the other side of the bed and lay next to Amber.
“Sure, sweetie. I’ll stay until you fall asleep. Just rest. I’m right here if you need anything.”
Amber smiled. All she needed from Daphne was everything.
Six
Amber flipped through the pages of Vogue as she sat listening to the whiny client on the other end of the phone continuing to bitch about the $5 million house that had been sold out from under her. She hated Mondays, the day she was asked to sit in for the receptionist at lunchtime. Her boss had promised her she’d be free of it as soon as the new hire began in another month.
She’d started as a secretary in the residential division of Rollins Realty when she first moved to Bishops Harbor, and she’d hated every minute of it. Almost all of the clients were spoiled women and arrogant men, all with a hugely elevated sense of entitlement. The kind of people who never slowed their expensive cars at a four-way stop because they believed they always had the right-of-way. She’d set appointments, call them with updates, set up appraisal and inspection appointments, and still they barely acknowledged her. She did notice that they were only a little more courteous to the agents, but their lack of manners still infuriated her.
She used that first year to take evening classes in commercial real estate. She checked books out of the library on the subject and read voraciously on weekends, sometimes forgetting to eat lunch or dinner. When she felt ready, she went to the head of the commercial side of Rollins, Mark Jansen, to discuss her thoughts on a potential opportunity regarding a zoning change vote she’d read about in the paper and what a successful vote could mean for one of their clients. He was blown away by her knowledge and understanding of the market, and started stopping by her desk occasionally to chat about his side of the business. Within a few months she was sitting right outside his office, working closely with him. Between her reading and his tutelage, her knowledge and expertise increased. And to Amber’s good fortune, Mark was a great boss, a devoted family man who treated her with respect and kindness. She was right where she had planned to be from the start. It had just taken time and determination, but determination was one thing Amber had in spades.
She looked up as Jenna, the receptionist, walked in with a crumpled McDonald’s bag and a soda in her hands. No wonder she was so fat, Amber thought in disgust. How could people have so little self-control?
“Hey, girlie, thanks so much for covering. Did everything go okay?” Jenna’s smile made her face even more moonlike than normal.
Amber bristled. Girlie? “Just some moron who’s upset because someone else bought her house.”
“Oh, that was probably Mrs. Worth. She’s so disappointed. I feel bad for her.”
“Don’t waste your tears. Now she can cry on her husband’s shoulder and get the eight-million-dollar house instead.”
“Oh, Amber. You’re so funny.”
Amber shook her head in puzzlement at Jenna and walked away.
Later that night, as she sat soaking in the tub, she thought about the last two years. She’d been ready to leave it all far behind—the dry-cleaning chemicals that burned her eyes and nose, the filth from soiled clothing that clung to her hands, and the big plan that had gone awry. Just when she thought she’d finally grabbed the brass ring, everything had come crashing down. There was no question of her hanging around. When she left Missouri, she’d made sure that anyone looking for her wouldn’t find even a trace to follow.
The water was turning cooler now. Amber rose and wrapped herself in a thin terry-cloth robe as she stepped out of the bath. There’d been no old school friend to invite her to Connecticut. She’d rented the tiny furnished apartment just days after she arrived in Bishops Harbor. The dingy white walls were bare, and the floor was covered with an old-fashioned pea-green shag that had probably been there since the 1980s. The only seating was an upholstered love seat with worn arms and sagging pillows. A plastic table sat at the end of the small sofa. There was nothing on the table, not even a lamp, the single
lightbulb with its fringed shade hanging from the low ceiling being the only illumination in the room. It was hardly more than a place to sleep and hang her hat, but it was only a placeholder until her plan was complete. In the end, it would all be worth it.
She quickly dried off, threw on pajama bottoms and a sweatshirt, and then sat at the small desk in front of the only window in the apartment. She pulled out her file on Nebraska and read over it once again. Daphne hadn’t asked her any more questions about her childhood, but still, it never hurt to refresh. Nebraska had been her first stop after leaving her hometown in Missouri, and it was where her luck had begun to change. She bet she knew more about Eustis, Nebraska, and its Wurst Tag sausage festival than even the oldest living resident. She scanned the pages, then put the folder back and picked up the book on international real estate she’d gotten from the library on her way home that night. It was heavy enough to make a good doorstop, and she knew it was going to take some very long nights and lots of concentration to get through it.
She smiled. Even if her place was small and cramped, she had spent so many nights longing for a room of her own when she and her three sisters were packed in the attic her father had turned into a bunkhouse of sorts. No matter how hard she’d tried, the room was always a mess, with her sisters’ clothes, shoes, and books strewn all over. It made her crazy. Amber needed order—disciplined, structured order. And now, finally, she was the master of her world. And of her fate.
Seven
Amber dressed carefully that Monday morning. She had quite accidentally run into Daphne and her daughters at the town library late yesterday afternoon. They’d stopped to chat, and Daphne had introduced her to Tallulah and Bella. She had been struck by their differences. Tallulah, tall and thin with glasses and a plain face, appeared quiet and withdrawn. Bella, on the other hand, was an adorable little sprite, her golden curls bouncing as she cavorted around the shelves. Both girls had been polite but uninterested, and had leafed through their books as the two women spoke. Amber had noticed that Daphne didn’t seem her usual cheery self. “Is everything all right?” she said, putting her hand gently on Daphne’s arm. Daphne’s eyes had filled. “Just some memories I can’t shake today. That’s all.”
Amber had gone on full alert. “Memories?”
“Tomorrow is Julie’s birthday. I can’t stop thinking about her.” She ran her fingers through Bella’s curly hair, and the child looked up at her and smiled.
“Tomorrow? The twenty-first?” Amber said.
“Yes, tomorrow.”
“I can’t believe it. It’s Charlene’s birthday, too!” Amber silently berated herself, hoping she hadn’t overplayed her hand, but as soon as she saw the look on Daphne’s face, she knew she’d struck just the right chord.
“Oh my gosh, Amber. That’s unbelievable. I’m beginning to feel like the heavens have brought us together.”
“It does seem like it’s meant to be,” Amber had said, then paused for a few seconds. “We should do something tomorrow to celebrate our sisters, to remember the good things and not dwell on the sadness. How about if I pack us some sandwiches, and we can have lunch at my office? There’s a small picnic bench on the side of the building near the stream.”
“What a good idea,” Daphne had said, more animated then. “But why should you go to the trouble of packing a lunch? I’ll pick you up at your office, and we’ll go to the country club. Would you like that?”
That was precisely what Amber had been hoping Daphne would suggest, but she hadn’t wanted to seem too eager. “Are you sure? It really isn’t any trouble. I pack lunch every day.”
“Of course I’m sure. What time shall I pick you up?”
“I can usually duck out around twelve thirty.”
“Perfect. I’ll see you then,” Daphne had said, and shifted the pile of books in her arms. “We’ll make it a happy celebration.”
Now Amber studied herself in the mirror one last time—white boat-neck T-shirt and her one nice pair of navy slacks. She’d tried on the sturdy sandals but exchanged them for white ones. She wore faux pearl studs in her ears and, on her right hand, a ring with a small sapphire set in gold. Her hair was pulled back with the usual headband, and her only makeup was a very light pink lip balm. Satisfied that she looked subdued but not too frumpy, she grabbed her keys and left for work.
By ten, Amber had checked the clock at least fifty times. The minutes dragged unbearably as she tried to concentrate on the new shopping center contract in front of her. She reread the final four pages, making notes as she went along. Ever since she’d found an error that could have cost the company a bundle, her boss, Mark, didn’t sign anything until Amber had reviewed it.
Today was Amber’s day to cover the phones for Jenna, but Jenna had agreed to stay so that Amber could go out for lunch.
“Who are you having lunch with?” Jenna asked.
“You don’t know her. Daphne Parrish,” she answered, feeling important.
“Oh, Mrs. Parrish. I’ve met her. A couple years ago, with her mother. They came in together ’cause her mom was going to move here to be closer to the family. She looked at tons of places, but she ended up staying in New Hampshire. She was a real nice lady.”
Amber’s ears perked up. “Really? What was her name? Do you remember?”
Jenna looked up at the ceiling. “Lemme see.” She was quiet a moment and then nodded her head and looked back at Amber. “I remember. Her name was Ruth Bennett. She’s a widow.”
“She lives alone?” Amber said.
“Well, sort of, I guess. She owns a B&B in New Hampshire, so she’s not really alone. Right? But on the other hand, they’re all pretty much strangers, so she kind of does live alone. Maybe you could say she lives semi-alone, or only alone at night when she goes to bed,” Jenna prattled on. “Before she left, she brought a real nice basket of goodies to the office to thank me for being so nice. It was really sweet. But kinda sad too. It seemed like she really wanted to move here.”
“Why didn’t she?”
“I don’t know. Maybe Mrs. Parrish didn’t want her that close.”
“Did she say that?” Amber probed.
“Not really. It just seemed like she wasn’t too excited about her mom being so close by. I guess she didn’t really need her around. You know, she had her nannies and stuff. One of my friends was her nanny when her first daughter was a baby.”
Amber felt like she’d struck gold. “Really? How long did she work there?”
“A couple years, I think.”
“Is she a good friend of yours?”
“Sally? Yeah, me and her go way back.”
“I bet she has some stories to tell,” Amber said.
“What do you mean?”
Is this girl for real? “You know, things about the family, what they’re like, what they do at home—that kind of thing.”
“Yeah, I guess. But I wasn’t really interested. We had other stuff to talk about.”
“Maybe the three of us could have dinner next week.”
“Hey, that would be great.”
“Why don’t you call her tomorrow and set it up? What’s her name again?” Amber asked.
“Sally. Sally MacAteer.”
“And she lives here in Bishops Harbor?”
“She lives right next door to me, so I see her all the time. We grew up together. I’ll ask her about dinner. This’ll be really fun. Like the three musketeers.” Jenna skipped back to her desk, and Amber went back to work.
She picked up the contract and put it on the desk in Mark’s empty office so they could discuss it that afternoon when he got back from his appointment in Norwalk. She looked at her watch and saw that she had twenty minutes to finish and freshen up before Daphne’s arrival. She returned two phone calls, filed a few loose papers, and then went to the bathroom to check her hair. Satisfied, she went to the front lobby to watch for Daphne’s Range Rover.
It pulled up at exactly twelve thirty, Amber noticed, appreciating Daphne
’s promptness. As Amber pushed open the glass door of the building, Daphne rolled the car window down and called out a cheerful hello. Amber walked to the passenger side, opened the door, and hoisted herself into the cool interior.
“It’s great to see you,” Amber said with what she hoped sounded like enthusiasm.
Daphne looked over at her and smiled before putting the car into gear. “I’ve been looking forward to this all morning. I couldn’t wait for my garden club meeting to be over. I know it’s going to make the day so much easier to get through.”
“I hope so,” Amber said, her voice subdued.
They were both quiet for the next few blocks, and Amber leaned back against the soft leather seat. She turned her head slightly in Daphne’s direction and took in her white linen pants and sleeveless white linen top, which had a wide navy stripe at the bottom. She wore small gold hoops and a simple gold bangle bracelet next to her watch. And her ring, of course, the rock that could have sunk the Titanic. Her slender arms were nicely tanned. She looked fit, healthy, and rich.
As they pulled into the driveway of the Tidewater Country Club, Amber drank it all in—the gently winding road with precision-cut grass on either side, not a weed in sight; tennis courts with players in sparkling whites; the swimming pools in the distance; and the impressive building looming before them. It was even grander than she had imagined. They drove around the circle to the main entrance, and were met by a young guy in a casual uniform of dark khakis and a green polo shirt. On his head was a white visor with the Tidewater logo embroidered in green.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Parrish,” he said as he opened her door.
“Hello, Danny,” Daphne said and handed him the keys. “We’re just here for lunch.”
He walked around to open Amber’s door, but she had already stepped out.
The Last Mrs. Parrish Page 3