The Last Mrs. Parrish

by Liv Constantine

  Amber nodded.

  She leaned in and whispered, “Cumin.”

  Amber hadn’t actually tasted the green goo—she hated avocados—but every woman thinks her own recipes are so special, and it was an easy way to get on someone’s good side.

  The room was set up with a breakfast buffet: muffins, fruit, coffee, and tea. Grabbing a mug, Amber filled it to the brim with coffee. She had already reviewed the agenda when Daphne walked into the room, perfectly turned out as usual. Amber rose and gave her a hug. Holding up the piece of paper, she frowned and pointed at the first item. “New cochair needed? What happened to Bunny?”

  Daphne sighed and shook her head. “She called me a few days ago and said she had a family emergency to deal with. Something about having to leave town to care for a sick uncle.”

  Amber affected a perplexed expression. “That’s a shame. Wasn’t she supposed to have finished organizing the silent auction by today?” It was a huge job, requiring good organizational skills and attention to detail. All of the items had been secured, but Amber was quite sure that Bunny had left plenty of work that still needed to be completed, given that her world had collapsed a week ago.

  “Yes, she was. Unfortunately, she just let me know yesterday that she hadn’t finished organizing all of it. Now we’re really behind the eight ball. I feel so bad asking someone to step in and take over. They’ll have to work nonstop to have everything ready in time.”

  “I know I’m the newbie here, but I’ve done this sort of thing before. I would love to do it.” Amber looked down at her fingernails, then back up at Daphne. “But the other women probably wouldn’t like it.”

  Daphne’s eyebrows shot up. “It doesn’t matter that you’re new. I know you’re here because your heart’s truly in it. But it’s an awful lot of work,” she said. “All the item write-ups still need to be done, the bid forms have to be matched, and the bid numbers need to be set up.”

  Amber tried to keep her voice casual. “I managed one for my old boss. The best thing is to have the bid form in triplicate, three different colors, and to leave the bottom copy with the item after the auction closes and take the other two to the cashier. It eliminates confusion.”

  She’d hit her mark from her Google research from the night before. Daphne looked duly impressed.

  “It would make me feel like I was doing something for Charlene,” Amber continued. “I mean, I don’t have the money to make big donations, but I can offer my time.” She gave Daphne what she hoped was a pitiful look.

  “Of course. Absolutely. I would be honored to have you as my cochair.”

  “What about the other women? Will they be okay with it? I wouldn’t want to ruffle any feathers.”

  “You let me worry about them,” Daphne said and lifted her coffee mug in salute to Amber. “Partners. For Julie and Charlene.”

  Amber picked up her mug and touched it to Daphne’s.

  A half hour later, after eating Daphne’s food and catching each other up on their scintillating lives, the women all finally got down to the business of the meeting. It must be nice to have all morning to fritter away like this. Once again, Amber’d had to take a vacation day to be there.

  Amber held her breath as Daphne cleared her throat and addressed the room. “Unfortunately, Bunny had to resign from the committee. She’s been called out of town to care for an ailing uncle.”

  “Oh, what a shame. I hope it’s not too serious,” Meredith said.

  “I don’t have any other details,” Daphne said, then paused. “I was going to ask one of you to step in as cochair, but Amber has graciously offered to do it.”

  Meredith looked at her, then at Daphne. “Um, that’s very generous, but do you think that’s really wise? No offense intended, but Amber just joined us. It’s a lot to get up to speed on. I’d be happy to do it.”

  “The main thing left is to handle the silent auction, and Amber has experience with it,” Daphne replied in a nonchalant tone. “Plus, Amber has a very personal stake; she wants to honor her sister as well. I’m sure she would welcome your help and that of everyone on the committee.”

  Amber turned her gaze from Daphne to Meredith. “I would be so appreciative of any advice you’re willing to give. Once I’ve assessed where we are, I can divvy up some assignments.” The thought of having that rich bitch reporting to her made her flush with pleasure. She didn’t miss the look of irritation on Meredith’s face and struggled to hide a smirk.

  Meredith cocked an eyebrow. “Of course. We’re all happy to do our part. Bunny had planned on laying out all the items in her house and having a few of us come and help with the bid sheets and descriptions. Should we plan on coming to your house, Amber?”

  Before Amber could respond, Daphne dove in to rescue her. “The items are already here. I sent for them yesterday afternoon. No sense in moving them again.”

  Amber fixed her eyes on Meredith as she spoke. “I’m planning on automating the forms anyhow. It will be much more efficient for me to e-mail them to each of you with a picture of the item, and you can fill out the descriptions and send them back. Then I can have them printed and set them with the items. I’ll send everyone an e-mail tonight with the groupings, and you can let me know which you’ll write up. No need to waste time all sitting around together.”

  “That’s a great idea, Amber. See, ladies? Nice to have some new blood.”

  Amber leaned back into her armchair and smiled. She felt Meredith’s appraising eyes on her, and noticed once again how everything about her screamed old money, from her double strand of pearls to the slightly worn camel jacket. Minimal makeup, no particular style to her hair, quiet wristwatch and earrings. Her wedding ring, a band of sapphires and diamonds, looked like a family heirloom. Nothing ostentatious about this woman except the distinct aura of Mayflower lineage and trust funds. Her arrogance reminded Amber of Mrs. Lockwood, the richest woman in the town where she grew up, who would bring her cashmere sweaters, wool suits, and formal gowns into the dry cleaner’s every Monday morning, putting them gingerly on the counter as if she couldn’t bear for her sacred garments to touch the clothes of the underclass. She never greeted Amber and never responded to a hello with anything but a forced, sour smile that looked as if she’d smelled something rotten.

  The Lockwood family lived in a huge home at the top of a hill overlooking the town. Amber had met Frances, their only daughter, at a county fair, and the two had become fast friends. The first time Frances took Amber to her home, Amber had been awestruck at its size and magnificent furnishings. Frances’s bedroom was a young girl’s dream, all pink and white and frilly. Her dolls—so many!—were lined up neatly on built-in shelves, and on one long wall stood a case filled with books and trophies. Amber remembered feeling like she never wanted to leave that bedroom. But the friendship had been short-lived. After all, Amber was not the sort Mrs. Lockwood wanted as a friend for her precious daughter. As quickly as the two girls had connected, the cord was severed by Frances’s imperious mother. It had stuck in Amber’s craw ever since, but she’d found a way to get even when she met Matthew, Frances’s handsome older brother. Mrs. Lockwood hadn’t known what hit her.

  And now, here she was, confronting the same condescension from Meredith Stanton. So far, though, it was Amber one, Meredith nothing.

  “Amber.” Daphne’s voice startled her from her reverie. “I’d like to get a picture for a little advance publicity. Let’s have you and the rest of the auction committee with some of the items. I’m sure the Harbor Times will publish it with a blurb about the fundraiser.”

  Amber couldn’t move. A picture? For the newspaper? She couldn’t let that happen. She had to think quickly. “Um.” She paused a moment. “Gee, Daphne, I’m so new to the group. I don’t think it’s fair for me to be in the photo. It should include members who have worked on this longer than I have.”

  “That’s very gracious of you, but you are the cochair now,” Daphne said.

  “I’d really feel more
comfortable if other people’s accomplishments were highlighted.” Looking around, Amber realized she’d scored points for humility. It was a win-win. She could maintain the rank of poor but sweet and unassuming little waif to these privileged snobs. And most importantly, no ghosts from the past would come sniffing around. She just needed to keep a low profile for now.

  Eleven

  The next morning Jenna came dancing into Amber’s office, her smile so wide that her cheeks practically obscured her squinty little eyes. “Guess what?” she demanded breathlessly.

  “No clue,” Amber said flatly, not even bothering to look up from the commission reports she was working on.

  “I talked to Sally last night.”

  Amber’s head shot up, and she put her pen down.

  “She said she’d like to come to dinner with us. Tonight.”

  “That’s great, Jenna.” For the first time, Amber was thankful for Jenna’s doggedness. She had pestered Amber from her first day on the job, and every time Amber refused her invitations, she had bounced back up like a Punchinello toy and asked her again, until finally Amber relented. Jenna had gotten what she wanted, and now it was all about to pay off for Amber too.

  “What time, and do we have a place in mind?”

  “Well, we could do Friendly’s. Or Red Lobster. Tonight they’re having all the shrimp you can eat.”

  Amber pictured Jenna sitting across from her, cocktail sauce dripping down her chin as she devoured all those little pink shrimp. She didn’t think she could stomach that. “Let’s go to the Main Street Grille,” she said. “I’m free right after work.”

  “Okay. I’ll tell Sally to meet us around five thirty. This is going to be so much fun,” Jenna squealed, clapping her hands together and prancing out of the office.

  When Amber and Jenna arrived at the Grille, they were seated in a booth near the back of the restaurant, with Jenna facing the door so she would see Sally when she arrived. Jenna began yammering away about a new client who had come in today looking for properties in the $5 million range and how nice and friendly she was, then suddenly stopped and waved her hand. “Here’s Sally,” she said and stood up.

  As Sally approached the table, Amber knew her surprise registered on her face. This woman was not at all what she’d expected.

  “Hi, Jenna.” The newcomer gave Jenna a hug and then turned to Amber. “You must be Amber, the one Jenna is always talking about.” She smiled, reached a slender arm across the table, and shook Amber’s hand. Sally wore fitted jeans and a long-sleeved white T-shirt that showed off her trim figure, tanned skin, and luxuriant brown hair. As she took the seat next to Jenna, Amber was struck by her eyes, so dark they were almost black, with thick, long eyelashes.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Sally,” Amber said. “I’m glad you could make it tonight.”

  “Jenna and I have been promising to get together for ages, but we’ve been so busy with work that we haven’t had time. I’m glad we finally made it happen.” Amber wondered what these two could possibly have in common besides living on the same street.

  “I’m starving. Do you two know what you want?” Jenna said.

  Sally picked up her menu and quickly scanned it.

  “The grilled salmon with spinach sounds good,” Amber said, and Jenna wrinkled her nose.

  “Yes, I think I’ll have the same.” Sally put down the menu.

  “Yuck. How can you choose salmon instead of a hot turkey sandwich with mashed potatoes and gravy? That’s what I’m getting. And no spinach.”

  The waitress took their orders, and Amber ordered a bottle of the house red. She wanted everyone relaxed and loose-tongued tonight.

  “Here,” she said, and poured the wine into their glasses. “Let’s sit back and enjoy. So tell me, Sally, where do you work?”

  “I’m a special education teacher at a private school, St. Gregory’s in Greenwich.”

  “That’s great. Jenna told me that you had been a nanny. You must love kids.”

  “Oh, I do.”

  “How many years did you nanny?”

  “Six years. I only worked for two families. The last one was here in town.”

  “Who was that?” Amber asked.

  “Geez, Amber, did you forget? The day you had lunch with Mrs. Parrish, I told you Sally used to work for her,” Jenna said.

  Amber gave her a hate-filled look. “Yes, I did forget.” She turned back to Sally. “What was it like—working there, I mean?”

  “I loved it. And Mr. and Mrs. Parrish were great to work for.”

  Amber wasn’t interested in a fairy tale of how perfect the Parrish family was. She decided to take another tack. “Nannying must be a tough job at times. What were the hardest parts, do you think?”

  “Hmm. When Tallulah was born, it was sort of tiring. She was small—only weighed five pounds at birth—so she had to eat every two hours. Of course the nurse took the night feedings, but I would get there at seven in the morning and stay till she came back at night.”

  “So the nurse fed her through the night? Mrs. Parrish didn’t nurse the baby?”

  “No, it was sad, really. Mr. Parrish told me she tried at first, but her milk wouldn’t come in. He asked me not to say anything because it made her cry, so we never talked about it.” Sally took a forkful of salmon. “I sometimes wondered about it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Amber detected discomfort in Sally, who seemed to be trying for nonchalance. “Oh, nothing, really.”

  “It doesn’t sound like nothing,” Amber pressed.

  “Well, I guess I’m not telling you something everybody doesn’t already know.”

  Amber leaned in closer and waited.

  “A while after Tallulah was born, Mrs. Parrish went away. To a sort of hospital where you rest and get help.”

  “You mean a sanitarium?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Did she have postpartum depression?”

  “I’m really not sure. There was a lot of gossip at the time, but I tried not to listen to it. I don’t know. There were police involved somehow. I remember that. There were rumors that she was a danger to the baby, that she shouldn’t be alone with her.”

  Amber tried to hide her fascination. “Was she? A danger?”

  Sally shook her head. “I had a hard time believing that. But I never really saw her again. Mr. Parrish let me go right before she came home. He said they wanted someone to speak French to Tallulah, and I had been thinking about going back to school full-time anyhow. Later, they did end up hiring my friend Surrey for the weekends. She never mentioned anything strange.”

  Amber was wondering what had happened to make Daphne require hospitalization. Her mind was miles away when she realized Sally was still talking.

  “I’m sorry. What were you saying?” Amber asked her.

  “It was Mrs. Parrish who encouraged me to continue and get my master’s degree. She said the most important thing was for a woman to be independent and know what she wanted. Especially before she considers marriage.” Sally took a sip of her wine. “Good advice, I think.”

  “I suppose. But she was pretty young when she married Mr. Parrish, wasn’t she?”

  Sally smiled. “In her twenties. It seems like they have a perfect marriage, so I guess it was a good decision.”

  What a load of crap, Amber thought as she divided the last of the wine between their glasses. “Jenna told me that Mrs. Parrish’s mother was thinking about moving here at one time. Did you ever meet her?”

  “I met her a few times. She didn’t visit that often. She mentioned that she ran a B&B up north, but it still seemed odd that she wasn’t there more, you know, to see the baby and all.”

  “Do you know why she decided not to move to Bishops Harbor?”

  “I’m not sure exactly, but she seemed put off by all the help the Parrishes had. Maybe she thought she’d be in the way,” Sally said, then sipped her wine. “You know, Mrs. Parrish has an extremely well ordered and
tightly scheduled life. Precision is a hallmark in her house—nothing out of place, every room spotless, and every item perfectly placed. Maybe it was a little too regimented for Mrs. Bennett.”

  “Wow, it sure sounds like it.” Amber had not failed to notice the very same thing every time she visited Daphne, which was more and more often lately. The house looked as if no one lived in it. The moment you finished drinking from a glass or emptied your plate, it was whisked away and disappeared. There was never a misplaced thing, which was hard to achieve with two young kids around. Even the girls’ bedrooms were immaculate. Amber had looked into the rooms the morning after she’d spent the night and was astounded at the meticulous placement of books and toys. Nothing was out of order.

  As she drank more wine, Sally seemed to be warming to her subject. “I heard from Surrey that Tallulah and Bella never get to watch cartoons or kid shows. They have to watch documentaries or educational DVDs.” She waved her hand. “I mean, not that that’s bad, but it is sad that they can’t watch anything just for fun or entertainment.”

  “I guess Mrs. Parrish values education,” Amber said.

  Sally looked at her watch. “Speaking of which, I really should get going. School in the morning.” She turned to Jenna. “If you’re ready to go, I can give you a ride home.”

  “That’d be good.” Jenna clapped her hands together. “What a fun night it’s been. We should do this again.”

  They settled the check, and Jenna and Sally left. Amber finished her wine and sat back in her seat, reviewing the nuggets of information she’d gathered.

  When she got home, the first thing she did was look up Daphne’s mother. After a bit of searching, she found that Ruth Bennett owned and ran a B&B in New Hampshire. It was a quaint inn with lovely grounds. Nothing extravagant, but very nice nonetheless. The picture of her on the website showed her to be an older, not quite as beautiful version of her daughter. Amber wondered what it was between them, why Daphne’d been reluctant to have her mother move near her.

  She bookmarked the page and then logged onto Facebook. There he was, looking older and fatter. Guess the last few years hadn’t been so good for him. She laughed and shut the lid of her laptop.