“It’s my job to know about breakfast foods,” Vera pointed out.
Leda nodded. “Of course. By the way, I asked Amy if there was something between Hayley and Ethan Whitby and she was pretty evasive, which leads me to think that something is indeed going on between the two. I suspect Hayley swore her to secrecy. I can’t imagine Hayley wanting the scrutiny of every busybody in Yorktide.”
“Really. Can you imagine what some would say about a member of the Franklin family presuming she was good enough to date a member of the Whitby family?” Vera shook her head. “There are always people who love to see the downtrodden kept down. Anyway, there’s something I want to tell you. I’m thinking of opening a second, year-round restaurant. Well, I’ll close for a few weeks around Christmas, of course.”
Leda was surprised. “What about traveling during the winter months?” she asked. “Are you going to give up the spas and the canyons?”
“I’ll have to for a while,” Vera said, “at least until we’ve gotten through a few seasons and I know I can trust my manager, whoever that will be.”
“So, what’s behind this decision to expand your empire?” Leda asked, eyeing the plate of crullers on Vera’s desk.
Vera shrugged. “Now that I’m eternally single I have more time to devote to my career. And like I said the other day, work is a perfect antidote to all sorts of unpleasant things.”
Leda frowned. She had fallen down on the job of bringing Margot and Vera together, though it wasn’t entirely her fault that both women remained single. Vera was the real roadblock, refusing to attend the poetry reading Margot’s friend had given, dashing into the kitchen when Margot made an appearance at the restaurant.
“Eternally single?” Leda said, reaching for another cruller. “Isn’t that a little dramatic?”
“So what if it is?” Vera asked. “I’m allowed to make an opera out of my love life or lack thereof if I want to.”
“Of course. Sorry.” Leda hesitated before going on. “If I can change the subject for a moment—”
“Please do!”
“Amy came to me with her concerns about the way in which Cressida treats her children. She swears they’re not being abused, but she is surprised by the harsh way in which Cressida deals with them.”
Vera shook her head. “Poor kids. No doubt Amy is right to be concerned. But you can look at her coming to you in a relatively bright light. The almighty Cressida Prior has flaws after all, and Amy is finally able to admit that.”
“You’re right. Still, I wish she’d never gotten involved with that woman in the first place.”
“And I wish I were the Queen of Sheba.” Vera got up from her chair. “Well, you know what I mean. Now, skedaddle and take the rest of those crullers with you. I want to get out of here before dinnertime.”
Chapter 97
Nora Franklin was working an overtime shift at the grocery store and would be home before long, tired and hungry. Eddie Franklin. . . well, Hayley didn’t know where her father was and didn’t much care, as long as he didn’t show up until after she and her mother had finished dinner. He was a sloppy eater, and it made Hayley feel sick watching him wipe his mouth with the back of his hand and take up spilled ketchup with his thumb.
Hayley was paying just enough attention not to slice her fingers as she topped and tailed the green beans. The major part of her mind was reflecting on the upsetting incident that had taken place earlier. Hayley was used to men eyeing her but never quite in the manner that toad Jeff had, and in front of his fiancée too. Ordinarily, faced with such a creep, Hayley would have lashed out, but this time it hadn’t only been shame that had held her tongue. It had been respect for Ethan, a desire to spare him embarrassment in front of his colleague, no matter how odious that colleague was.
The encounter had been demeaning and had made Hayley’s flesh crawl, but one good thing had come from it. Ethan had introduced her as his friend, not only as an employee of the family. Of course, Hayley couldn’t be sure if he had used the word out of mere politeness or for lack of a more accurate term, which might be acquaintance. Still . . .
And the way Ethan had taken her elbow to usher her away from the scene of her humiliation.... It had been such a lovely gesture, a sign of genuine concern and respect. But maybe it hadn’t meant all that much to Ethan. Maybe it had been nothing more than an automatic response. He had probably seen his father take his mother’s and his stepmother’s elbow on certain occasions and had absorbed the old-fashioned, gentlemanly habit.
Green beans washed and drained, Hayley turned to scrubbing and slicing a few potatoes for boiling. Snippets of the conversation over lunch at The Razor Clam ping-ponged through her memory. Patricia, Ethan’s almost fiancée. His desire for children. I’m still an unrepentant romantic but a wiser one. That final, enigmatic comment about his believing in luck after all.
Hayley put the halved potatoes into a pot of roiling water and sank into a seat at the kitchen table. She felt disoriented. Happy. Sad. Uncertain. Ethan had asked her to have lunch with him. Could it possibly be that he liked her for who she was? But he didn’t know who she was! She hadn’t allowed him to know.
Hayley rubbed her head. A terrible, dreadful thought had come to her as Ethan drove her to the library that afternoon. (Of course she couldn’t allow him to take her home.) Was it possible that she was falling in love? She had developed genuine feelings for Ethan Whitby, the man she had planned to use to her own advantage. Genuine feelings. That much she knew. But did those feelings translate to love?
Hayley heard a key in the door, and she jumped up from the table. A moment later her mother joined her in the kitchen.
“Dinner is almost ready,” Hayley said with an attempt at a smile. Nora looked exhausted, the skin under her eyes bruised with weariness.
“Is your father home?” Nora asked, her tone flat.
“No,” Hayley said. She couldn’t tell from her mother’s expression whether she was glad about or merely indifferent to Eddie Franklin’s absence. “Sit down,” she directed. “Have a glass of lemonade.”
Her mother took a seat and poured a glass of lemonade out of the carton on the table. “Thank you, Hayley,” she said after she had taken a sip.
Nora Franklin looked so small and stooped and worn out. Hayley swallowed past a lump in her throat. She was her mother’s guardian. Maybe it shouldn’t be that way, but it was. No matter what happened she could never, ever leave her.
“You’re welcome, Mom,” Hayley said quietly. “Dinner will be ready in a moment.”
Chapter 98
Noah waved and jogged across the street to join Amy. “Hey,” he said with a smile. He was wearing a T-shirt with the logo of the Meadtown Brewery. For the first time in their long acquaintanceship Amy noticed just how blue his eyes were, almost azure. How had she not noticed that before?
“Hi,” she said. “How’s it going?”
“Good.” Noah stuck his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. “Look,” he said, “I know it’s last minute and all, but we just got a gig tonight at that new place out on Ridge Road. Do you think you can make it?”
“Sure,” Amy said brightly. “I’d love to come.”
Noah smiled. “Great,” he said. “We start at eight. If you don’t mind sticking around until the end of the last set, maybe we could hang out for a while and talk.”
“That would be awesome,” Amy said, and she meant it.
“Cool.” Noah took his hands out of his back pockets and shoved them into his front pockets. “So . . .”
Amy felt herself blush. Since when had she felt shy around Noah? “I have to run,” she said quickly. “I’m supposed to go right back to the house after I pick up Cressida’s prescriptions at the pharmacy.”
“Right.” Noah took his hands out of his front pockets. “Then I’ll see you tonight.”
“Right,” Amy said. “Tonight.” Amy watched him jog back to his truck, a smile on her face.
* * *
�
��I want you to spend the night here, Aimee.”
Cressida was dressed in a pair of leggings and a racerback athletic top. Amy realized she had never seen her employer in the same athletic wear twice. Athletic wear wasn’t cheap. Not that Amy had ever had an interest in buying athletic wear.
“Are you and Mr. Prior going out?” Amy asked, surprised by this announcement.
“No,” Cressida said flatly. “You don’t have plans, do you?”
Amy hesitated. She really wanted to hear Noah’s band. She still felt badly that she hadn’t protested when Cressida had mocked him and wanted to make it up to him in some way, even if it was just by going to hear him play. But maybe if she stayed the night, Cressida would pay her the equivalent of overtime. The more money she could earn this summer, the less she would have to borrow from her mother come fall. Amy decided. She would apologize to Noah and promise to come to his next gig. He was a nice person. He would understand.
“No, no plans,” Amy lied. “I’ll just need to go home first and get my things.”
“Nonsense,” Cressida said with a wave of her hand. “You can wear one of my nightgowns, and the bathrooms are stocked with fresh toothbrushes. Unless you need some sort of special medications from home?”
“No, no medications,” Amy said lamely.
Cressida smiled brightly “Then it’s settled. You’re a treasure, Aimee. I don’t know what I would do without you. Now I’m going for a run.”
When Cressida was gone, Amy sent a text to her mother and left a message for Noah at the brewery. And then she felt a sort of dread descend upon her. She wasn’t at all sure she had made the right decision. Maybe the idea of spending the night with the Priors would be more acceptable if she considered it an adventure of sorts, though it wouldn’t be a fun adventure if she was asked to play a game with the children that was beyond her intellectual capacity. And it certainly wouldn’t be fun if Cressida decided to throw another cup against a wall or to lash out at her husband.
Suddenly, Amy recalled one of the conversations that had taken place among her fellow nannies at The White Hart earlier in the summer. Last year, Cressida had hired two nannies from two different employment agencies, and both experiences had ended in disaster for the women hired. Could Cressida Prior be banned from working with the established agencies? Was that why she had hired Amy privately? Yes, Amy thought. That very well might be the case.
“Damn,” she muttered. “What did I get myself into?”
Chapter 99
Leda dragged the large box of craft supplies through the living room and into the studio. Her back hurt. She was out of breath. The usual UPS driver was always willing to lend a hand with the heavier deliveries to 22 Hawthorne Lane, but this driver had been new and patently not willing to do more than dump the hefty box on Leda’s doorstep.
With a grunt, Leda shoved the box with her foot, and it came to rest against a leg of her worktable. She sank into her chair and opened her laptop to check her website. Lately she had become much better about keeping up with its maintenance and replying to messages and orders. And she was finding that it wasn’t so horrible a task as she had once found it.
Leda glanced at her watch and compared the time to what appeared on the upper right of her computer screen. Ten o’clock. She had been woken that morning at seven thirty by a call from Amy. She hadn’t told Leda much about her night at the Priors’ other than the fact that she had eaten dinner with the family and then, in Amy’s words, pretty much hung around while Will and the children disappeared to their bedrooms and Cressida read on her Kindle. Only when Cressida finally retired to bed just before one o’clock had Amy been sent off to the guestroom. She had been woken at six o’clock by a loud knock on the door. Cressida, it seemed, didn’t need much sleep.
As for payment for her overnight services, Amy had told her mother—rather gloomily—that Cressida had given her the usual hourly rate. There had been no additional payment for her inconvenience. Amy had come very close to admitting that she should have clarified the issue of compensation before agreeing to spend the night. That, Leda thought, was progress. Amy’s critical faculties, such as they were, hadn’t been totally diminished.
Leda was busy replying to a few inquiries that had come in via the website when at ten forty-five her cell phone rang. She didn’t recognize the number but answered nonetheless. A pleasant male voice introduced himself as a member of the FAF’s panel of judges assigned to select this year’s winners. Leda’s heart began to pound. She knew what was coming next. She hadn’t won. The call was a courteous way of telling the losers the bad news. It really was very nice of the FAF to choose a personal touch . . .
“Congratulations, Mrs. Latimer,” the man went on. “Your tapestry entitled Stars Streaming was chosen in the Best Emerging Talent division.”
Leda opened her mouth, but the only sound to emerge was a sort of gurgle.
“Mrs. Latimer?” the man said. “Are you there?”
“Yes,” Leda croaked. “I’m here. Are you sure? Are you sure I won?”
The man laughed kindly. “I’m perfectly sure. In fact, you were the judges’ unanimous choice for the prize. Congratulations. You’ll be receiving a check in a week or two and the promised mention in the October issue of the FAF’s newsletter.”
Leda thanked the man profusely and ended the call. Tears began to leak from the corners of her eyes. Her first thought was to tell Amy, but she suspected Cressida Prior didn’t approve of her employees taking personal calls at work. Instead she called Vera.
“Hot damn!” Vera cried. “You go, girl! I knew your work would be chosen!”
Leda laughed. “You knew no such thing, Vera.”
“Okay, but I had a very good feeling.”
Phil was no less enthusiastic; his praise brought more tears to Leda’s eyes.
When they had ended their call, Leda grabbed her keys and headed out to the car. She would buy a bottle of Prosecco and raise a glass in a toast to herself. She had never done such a thing before. She deserved it. She really deserved it.
Chapter 100
The weather was downright idyllic—eighty degrees, low humidity, and only a few scattered clouds to mar a bright blue sky. Hayley, Ethan, and the girls were under the expansive awning over the back patio, the girls playing in their plastic wading pool, the adults stretched on lounges.
As usual, Ethan had a book in hand, this one a battered old paperback copy of The Sun Also Rises. His beautiful auburn hair flopped over his forehead. Hayley badly wanted to run her hands through it. Maybe, hopefully, she wasn’t really falling in love with Ethan as much as she was simply attracted to him sexually. That would be more acceptable. That she could handle.
A half an hour or so passed and Hayley, her own book in hand, felt positively lulled by the calm ordinariness of the moment. Adults reading. Children playing. Was this what it was like to be part of a family not torn apart by strife? But this wasn’t her family, Hayley reminded herself firmly, Ethan and Layla and Lily. Her family was Nora and Eddie and Brandon, and it would never truly be otherwise. She had to stop this dangerous tendency of fantasizing whenever she was with Ethan Whitby. She had to stop it now.
A buzzing from Ethan’s phone took him away from his book.
“What is it?” Hayley asked when he had put his phone back down on the little table by his lounge, his face set in a frown. “Not bad news, I hope.”
“My friend Dan and his wife are getting divorced,” Ethan said quietly. “I don’t understand. They’ve been married less than a year. I was a groomsman. I saw how they looked at each other at the ceremony. They both had tears in their eyes.”
“Maybe they weren’t really meant to be together,” Hayley suggested carefully. “Maybe it was only after the excitement of a big wedding and honeymoon wore off that they realized they weren’t really in love.”
Ethan sighed. “But after less than a year? And they’ve known each other for close to five years. You’d think after all that time a pers
on would have a pretty good idea about his partner being The One.”
Poor Ethan, Hayley thought. He was genuinely distressed. She wished she could say or do something to relieve some of that distress but... “Did your friend say why the marriage failed?” she asked softly.
“No. I’m sure he’ll tell me when we speak in person.” Ethan sighed again. “I dread the idea of a divorce, though I understand it can happen in what had once been the best of marriages.”
Suddenly, Lily burst into tears. Layla looked stricken. She loved to splash in the little pool; clearly, while Hayley’s attention had been focused on Ethan, she had gotten too wild. Hayley leaped from her lounge, and only as she was reaching for Lily did she realize that Ethan was at her side, reaching for Layla. He brought the penitent child to his lounge where she curled up in his arms, her head on his chest. Hayley brought Lily to her own lounge where, tears forgotten, she found great interest in the buttons on Hayley’s shirt.
Ethan bent his head and kissed the top of Layla’s strawberry blond head. “I often wondered why my parents didn’t have more kids,” he said, “but it’s not something I feel I can ask about. Anyway, when my father remarried I got my wish for siblings. Not the way I imagined it would come about but.... You know,” he said suddenly, looking over to Hayley, “contrary to what people might believe, my father didn’t leave my mother for Marisa. My parents’ divorce happened before my father met Marisa, and it was a mutual decision.”
“Do you believe that?” Hayley asked.
“I do, though I’d like to know more of what led to the decision to part ways.” Ethan shrugged. “I never saw my parents fight or even disagree about anything significant, but then again, marriage is a private thing.”
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