“You’re right,” Amy said. “I wouldn’t have. I did tell Hayley, and she thought the idea sounded insane. She tried to talk me out of it, but I wouldn’t listen.”
“So, what happened?” Leda asked. “I mean, how did it go when you quit?”
“I didn’t intend to quit when I went to tell Cressida that while her offer was very generous I had to turn it down.” Amy grimaced. “She threatened to fire me if I didn’t change my mind, and I told her I wouldn’t and that she couldn’t fire me because I quit. Then I kind of told her off. She’d said lots of unkind things about . . .” Amy felt herself blushing. “Well, about people I know, and I finally spoke up for them and for myself. And then I marched out of the house.”
“Congratulations, Amy,” Leda said feelingly. “I’m proud of you. I know it must have taken a lot of courage to stand up to someone like Cressida Prior.”
Amy laughed. “It did! I still feel kind of wiped out. But what happened this summer was partly my fault, Mom. I chose not to listen to the good advice of people close to me. So that leads me to a big question. Would it be okay if I stayed here at home instead of moving to Boston?”
“Of course it would be okay,” Leda told her. So, her suspicion had been on target.
“I have a lot of growing up to do,” Amy went on, “and honestly, after what happened this summer—after what I allowed to happen—I’m thinking it would be best to postpone a move. I thought I’d talk to Vera about a job at the new restaurant she’s planning to open. And I intend to help you grow your business, too.”
“I’d love nothing more,” Leda admitted.
“I was so flattered by the attention and the praise,” Amy went on musingly. “I thought, wow, I must be really worth something if this powerful woman is taking such notice of me. But just because a person is powerful in an obvious and public way doesn’t mean she’s fundamentally better than someone who’s powerful in a more subtle and quiet way. Like you, Mom. You knew all along that something wasn’t right in the relationship between Cressida and me. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.”
“Sometimes trying to prevent a loved one from making a mistake isn’t necessarily the right thing to do,” Leda pointed out. “Maybe if I hadn’t fought you so hard about Cressida you might have seen the truth earlier.”
Amy smiled. “Better late than never, right? There’s something else, Mom. The other day Cressida asked me to fetch something from her office, and while I was looking for it I came across this plastic bag of white powdery stuff. It was sitting right there on her desk. I can’t be sure, but I think it was cocaine.” Amy shook her head. “Cressida had these weird mood fluctuations. She’d be listless one minute and then she’d go into her office and close the door for a while and when she’d come out she’d be full of energy. For so long I had no idea what was causing her shifting moods. I guess I thought that she was just stressed.”
“I doubt drugs are behind everything frightful about that woman,” Leda said. “But they certainly can’t be helping an already emotionally unstable person.” With shame, Leda recalled feeling disappointed in her daughter earlier that summer for being blind to her boss’s flaws. But look at what Amy had accomplished. And Leda’s instinct had told her so that very afternoon; her own heart had known that Amy’s good heart had finally triumphed over Cressida Prior’s powerfully problematic behavior.
“I’d like to share something with you,” Leda said, deciding as she spoke. “It’s a bit difficult for me to talk about.”
“Sure,” Amy said, her hand stroking Winston’s back. “You can tell me anything.”
“There was a reason I was so against your taking a job as a nanny,” Leda began. “It had to do with my own experience as a nanny the summer I was seventeen.”
“I never knew you worked as a nanny,” Amy said in surprise.
“I did, but it didn’t end well.” Leda sighed. “The husband was a very charming man. I was a very naïve teenager. He led me to believe that he was unhappy in his marriage and that he had fallen in love with me.”
Amy grimaced. “Not that line.”
“After weeks of being seduced by charming words and intimate little gestures,” Leda went on, “I went to bed with him. It was just the once but that seemed to be all he had wanted, because immediately after he told me that our relationship was over. I begged to know why, but he had nothing more to say. And then I learned from his wife that he routinely seduced young women and then dropped them. She told me she tolerated his affairs because she knew he would never leave his family. And that was the end. I literally ran from the house and never looked back.”
“Mom,” Amy said, shaking her head. “How awful! You should have told me before now.”
“It’s hardly the kind of thing you’re eager to tell your daughter,” Leda pointed out, “that you allowed yourself to be seduced by a married man when you were only a teen. I mean, I’ve always taught you to respect the bonds of matrimony, but I didn’t exactly act on that advice myself.”
“You can’t blame yourself, Mom,” Amy said firmly. “You were a kid. It was their fault, not yours.”
“Anyway,” Leda went on, “I know it was silly of me to suppose that the same thing might happen to you, but that’s what I was afraid of.”
“You weren’t entirely wrong, were you?” Amy noted. “I did get seduced, just not in the way you thought I might. Did you ever tell my father what happened?”
“I never told anyone but Vera and now you,” Leda admitted. “I suppose if you hadn’t gone through what you did this summer I wouldn’t ever have said a word to you.”
“Was my father a rebound? I don’t mean that in a blame sort of way,” Amy added hurriedly. “I mean, were you so distraught about having been used by that couple that you sought refuge and security with someone kind?”
“I cared a great deal for your father,” Leda said after a moment, surprised by the wisdom of Amy’s guess. “He was a good man, and for the short time he had with you he was a wonderful father. I missed him terribly when he passed away.”
Amy was silent for a long moment. When she finally spoke, her tone was thoughtful. “Cressida said she was my mentor, but she never really taught me anything of value. A mentor is supposed to encourage a protégé’s individual growth. But Cressida didn’t want me to set out on my own path. I think she just wanted to mold me into her mini-me. I think she’s seriously lonely, but I don’t think she can admit that to herself.”
Leda nodded. She had thought a lot about loneliness over the years. “To admit that you’re deep-down lonely,” she said, “must be a terrifying thing. It must make you feel as if something is very wrong with you, not to be able to connect with another person in a meaningful way.”
Amy sighed. “I wonder if Cressida’s husband will ever have what it takes to break away. If there weren’t any children, then he might find it easier to leave. But there are children.” Amy sighed. “I wonder what will happen to them.”
“You know, I did something this summer I’d never done before,” Leda told her daughter. “I went online to search out that couple I’d worked for. I’m not going to tell you their names, but I do want you to know that their daughter is doing very well for herself. She’s getting a Ph.D. in environmental science. At least she’s been able to flourish intellectually. There’s hope for Jordan and Rhiannon. Children can be remarkably resilient.”
“I suppose,” Amy agreed. “So, how did you feel about the parents when you saw their faces after all these years?”
Leda smiled. “I don’t know what I expected to find, but it wasn’t two average sixty-somethings. I guess I’d never thought about their being vulnerable to time and circumstance. I realized: These people are only flesh and blood. Why was I so afraid of them? They had no power to hurt me, not once I’d left. And I knew that by confronting them I was finally setting the past to rest.”
“Good,” Amy said forcefully. “And I’m going to set the past to rest by reporting my experience with
the Priors on the nanny websites. I’m not going to mention the cocaine, though, even if that is what I saw. The last thing I want is for the Priors to say I’m lying and sue me. But I will talk about the phony job description, the lack of a written contract, and the fact that Cressida hired me privately, which was definitely not to my advantage no matter what she claimed.”
“It’s the right thing to do,” Leda affirmed. “I never reported my experience because I felt so culpable. Still, I was an underage girl who had been taken advantage of. I should have said something. Who knows how many other young people those two might have harmed since then?”
“You did what you could do at the time, Mom,” Amy said firmly. “It’s over.”
“Yes,” Leda agreed. “It’s over. So how about we celebrate putting the past to bed?”
Amy smiled. “Deal. But can we do it with ice cream? Or cake. Or maybe both.”
“Tired of Cressida’s abstemious eating habits?” Leda asked.
Amy shuddered. “If I never see another stalk of celery in my life I’ll be a very happy person.”
Chapter 127
Hayley inserted her key in the door of the apartment. Before she turned the key, she moved closer to the door. There was a noise coming from inside, an erratic banging and a . . . Hayley whirled around. “Mom,” she directed. “Stay in the hall. I’ll go in.”
“It could be a burglar,” Nora whispered fearfully, grasping Hayley’s arm.
“Doubtful. Stay here,” she directed again. She took a fortifying breath, turned the key, and went into the apartment. The banging, and now a crash as if a piece of furniture had been overturned, was coming from the direction of the bedrooms. Hayley walked softly toward the back of the apartment. Then it became clear that Eddie Franklin—who else could it be if not Brandon?—was in her bedroom.
Hayley felt a surge of fierce anger rise in her. It frightened her in its intensity. She felt at that moment as if she could manually strangle the man who was partly responsible for having given her life. In that moment, she hated her father. She hated him.
“Stop that!” she cried, standing in the doorway of her bedroom. Her father, his eyes glittering with malice, looked up from the drawer he was clawing through.
“Where’s the money?” he spat. “I know you’ve been keeping my money from me!”
Hayley took a step back. Her father wasn’t drunk; she had seen him drunk often enough to know when he wasn’t. And it was this fact that unnerved her badly. Usually her father’s outbursts of violence went hand in hand with drunkenness.
Before she could protest that there was no hidden stash of money—would she be so stupid as to keep cash around for the male Franklins to find?—her father strode the few steps across the room and tore the pillows and bedclothes from the bed.
“What are you doing?” Hayley cried. The book. Ethan’s book.... “Stop it!”
Hayley came forward a step and then jumped back as Eddie Franklin yanked the mattress from the bedframe, knocking over her makeshift bookcase. And there, atop the box spring, lay the precious gift Ethan had given Hayley only days before.
With a roar of disgust, Eddie Franklin grabbed the old and fragile book and threw it. The book opened as it flew through the air, hit the wall, and then landed on the floor with a thud. Hayley cried out and ran to retrieve her gift. The spine felt loose. Hot tears began to course down her cheeks. She was right to have let Ethan go. He didn’t deserve to be made any part of this.
“Where’s my money?” her father roared again. Hayley turned around to see him coming toward her menacingly. “It’s mine by rights. I’m the head of this house.”
Hayley took a step back and then another until her back was against the wall. She hadn’t felt so frightened and helpless since she was very young, in the days before she had learned how to fight back with cunning and at times with physical force. But all fight seemed to have gone from her. She clutched the book to her chest, unable to move even when Eddie Franklin lifted his meaty fist before her face.
“You’ll touch her over my dead body!”
The sound of the voice behind him, loud and shrill, served to stun Eddie Franklin. Hayley watched in disbelief as her mother strode into the room, her hands clenched into fists, her expression stern and determined. For a split second, Hayley thought that she must be imagining the moment, or that this woman coming to her rescue wasn’t her mother at all, just someone who vaguely resembled the Nora Franklin Hayley had left cowering in the hallway moments ago. Her usually stooped shoulders were thrown back in determination, her usually dull eyes sparking with purpose.
Nora Franklin now stood at her daughter’s side, resolute. And then, to Hayley’s utter astonishment, Eddie Franklin lowered his fist. The look on his face was one of deep confusion.
“I mean it, Eddie,” her mother spat. “You touch her, you’re out of here. Head of the house? Don’t make me laugh. You’re pathetic and we’ve all known it for years. You want money? Keep a job like a real man.”
Eddie opened his mouth but no words came out. He took a step toward his wife and daughter, and for a terrible moment Hayley was sure he was going to beat the two of them to a pulp.
And then Nora put up her hand. “One more step and I call the police,” she said in a deadly quiet tone, “and this time I won’t drop the charges. And when you get out of jail you’ll come home to find us gone, and gone for good.”
It was these words that seemed to reach what there was of Eddie Franklin’s reason. He retreated out of reach. All of the meanness and menace was gone from his face and his attitude. Hayley realized that she was holding her breath; she had absolutely no idea what would happen next.
“Nora,” her father said, softly and with a whine in his voice. “Please. You can’t leave me. I’m sorry. Really, I’m sorry.”
Hayley had never, ever heard her father plead or apologize. And yet there was something in his tone that made Hayley think he might indeed be sorry for his misdeeds. But she continued to stand frozen to the spot, her eyes shifting from one parent to the other.
Nora folded her arms across her chest and frowned. “We’ll see. One more wrong step and it’s over. I mean it, Eddie. Never. Again.”
Hangdog, Hayley thought. That was the word to describe the look on the face of her bully of a father. Downright hangdog.
“I’m going out,” he said.
“You can pick up half a gallon of milk while you’re at it,” Nora instructed. “Dinner will be on the table at six thirty. If you’re not home by then, clean and sober, you can spend the night in the hallway, and I don’t care how loudly the neighbors complain.”
Without another word, Eddie Franklin left the room, and a moment later the women heard the door to the apartment close. It did not slam.
Nora began to pick her way out of her daughter’s bedroom, righting the overturned bookcase and closing the drawers her husband had left hanging open. Hayley followed her mother to the living room, where Nora sank onto the couch, her hands clasped in her lap.
“Mom?” Hayley asked gently, sitting next to her. “Are you okay?”
Her mother laughed a bit wildly. “I think so,” she said. Suddenly she turned and took Hayley’s shoulders in a firm grip. “You need to get away from here,” she said fiercely. “At least for a while. Take all the money you’ve saved. It’s yours. I have no right to ask you to stay with me. I’m your mother. I shouldn’t be dependent on you. I want the best for you, and that means living your own life.”
“But Mom—” Hayley began to protest.
“I mean it, Hayley,” her mother said forcefully. “Handling your father is my responsibility, not yours. I’m sorry I haven’t done my job in the way I should have. I never intended to . . . to let you and your brother down.” Nora removed her hands from Hayley’s shoulders and folded them in her lap again.
“Where did you find the courage, Mom?” Hayley asked. “What happened to make you take a stand against Dad just now?”
“Do you rem
ember when a few days ago I tried to comfort you and you pushed me away?” she asked.
Hayley felt a rush of shame. “Mom, I—”
“Let me say this,” her mother went on. “It’s been preying on my mind that my own child could find her mother’s comfort so alien. I’ve felt so ashamed. And just now, when I saw your father menacing you, something just snapped and I couldn’t let him hurt you any more than he already has. Can you forgive me for being a coward all these years?”
“Of course I forgive you, Mom,” Hayley said, giving her mother’s hand a gentle squeeze. “But I’ve never understood why you stay with Dad, and I don’t think I ever will.”
“I’m sorry,” Nora replied. “But if you can’t understand, are you willing to try to accept that it’s been my choice?”
Hayley hesitated. Accepting the fact that your mother would choose to remain in a domestic situation fraught with anger and alienation was not an easy task. But above all Hayley wanted peace between them. “Yes,” she said finally. “I’ll try to accept that your choices are yours. But did you really mean what you said to Dad, that you’ll leave him if he makes another wrong move? Because you know he probably will. Nothing will change overnight, and even if things do get better over time they might not stay better. I’m sorry, Mom, but that’s the brutal truth.”
“I know,” Nora admitted. “I don’t have huge expectations of your father. Well, I have no expectations of him, really. But I do finally have expectations of myself.” Nora shook her head. “I never thought I’d have the nerve to speak back to your father the way I did earlier. Never. So who knows what I might be capable of in the future?”
Hayley gave her mother a hug. “Promise me you won’t let Brandon push you around any longer, either,” she said. “It’s high time he grew up. You know you’re not doing him any favors by bailing him out of trouble.”
The Summer Nanny Page 36
