Statuesque in a tailored navy pantsuit, her silver hair short and stylish, she was a striking woman. “I’m so pleased you could make it this evening. We haven’t seen you in ages.”
“I came for Sunday dinner last weekend,” Amanda reminded her grandmother.
Doing as directed, she picked up the tray and followed the older woman from the stainless steel and granite kitchen to the parlor where light walls and fabrics offset dark wood and heavy furniture. There was nothing dainty about Ingrid Carn.
“I do hope we’ll see you more than the occasional weekend,” Grandmother said tightly. “Your grandfather misses you. Posture, dear.”
Automatically Amanda straightened her shoulders as she sat. Always it was her grandfather’s emotions at risk, never her grandmother’s—an obvious detachment ploy, and to this day it hurt every time she did it.
Especially tonight, since Amanda had given up her date with Xavier to attend her grandmother’s little fête. Not that having a little extra time to consider her decision to see him again was a bad thing. She enjoyed her time with him, perhaps too much. His confidence, the way he listened, his dangerous air of alertness contradicted by his love of family made him fascinating—just as his accent and Old World courtesies made him charming.
A lethal combination for an unsophisticated girl.
What could he possibly see in her?
This is where Michelle would remind Amanda he was only in town long enough to have a good time. That left her with a good news, bad news scenario. The good news was he’d only be here for six weeks so she didn’t have to worry about trust and commitment issues. But what if she really fell for him? The bad news was he’d only be here for a few weeks.
So when Grandmother called this afternoon and demanded Amanda drop everything and join them for a small reception Ingrid was hosting for the Dean of Historical Studies, Amanda accepted in the hope that a little extra time would bring resolution to her internal struggle.
“I’m still getting settled into my new place.” Amanda made the same excuse she’d been using for six months. “Plus it’s a long trip for the middle of the week.”
Which explained why Amanda chose the apartment she did. She loved her grandparents but she craved freedom. Living too close to them would negate the independence she achieved by moving out of their home.
“Yes, I know how distressed you were to move so far away.” Ingrid settled on the couch beside Amanda. “That’s why I’ve invited the Dean here tonight. They’re looking for an assistant to catalog and digitize the History Library.”
Amanda’s heart sank into her stomach. This was an elaborate job interview instigated by her grandmother to get Amanda back in her domain.
No. Please no.
Amanda had spent her whole life under her grandmother’s thumb, subject to her strict standards, always conscious of the stringent scrutiny of being related to not one but two senior professors of the university. Always aware her behavior reflected on them as well as herself. It was a burden she felt acutely.
She’d just gained her freedom, and was revelling in the autonomy of big city life. She loved her little apartment and she wasn’t giving it up now she’d had a taste of liberty.
“Grandmother,” she said gently, because she may be resolute, but she didn’t want to hurt the other woman. “I’m very happy at the children’s museum.”
“I know dear, but this is a wonderful opportunity. You’d be able to move back here.”
“But I like my apartment. I like my job. We’ve talked about this. I’m twenty-five years old. It’s time for me to leave the nest.”
“This is a very prestigious position. I thought of you as soon as I heard about it.”
“Because it’s close to home. not because I’m suited to the position.”
She huffed. “You love to read.”
“Yes, and I enjoy a good library, but I don’t want to work in one.”
“Now, you’re just being difficult.”
“I’m not. I love you, and these were hard choices to make, but they were the right choices for me.”
“You’re too young,” Grandmother snapped. “I’ve said it all along, just as I said your mother was too young for that trip. I was right then, and I’m right now.”
“My mother?” The reference threw Amanda. Grandmother rarely spoke of Haley. Though she’d been on Amanda’s mind a lot after talking with Xavier yesterday and being reminded of the box she’d found with the old diaries.
Xavier had assumed Amanda had them, but she didn’t. Excited by the discovery, she’d asked Grandmother if she could take the box with her. Grandmother had said no, and had refused to discuss the matter further.
“What trip?” Amanda asked her grandmother.
“That year before she had you, some college friends of hers were going on a post-graduation trip to Europe. She had a bee in her bonnet about going with them. I was against it from the beginning. She was too young, too naïve. They all were.”
“Life brings experience.” It was one of her grandfather’s favorite sayings.
Grandmother closed her eyes. “That’s what she said. How could we argue with our own beliefs?”
“You let her go.”
“Yes. And she came back pregnant with you.”
Amanda flinched at the venom in the words. She knew her grandmother’s feelings about her mother’s pregnancy. She knew she was blamed for her mother’s death.
She lived knowing her grandparents would choose her mother over her every time. She understood. And at the same time she didn’t. Haley was their child. But Amanda was here. Why couldn’t they just love her? Isn’t that what Haley would have wanted?
Accepting the futility of fighting what couldn’t be changed, she pushed the ache aside and focused on what grandmother revealed about Haley. Maybe Amanda would learn something about her father after all.
“So she met my father in Europe?” How funny to hear this now, when Xavier had just been asking if she had any relations in Pasadonia.
“Yes.” Grandmother stood to straighten the glasses on the bar, to arrange the wine, open and breathing, precisely next to the bottle of Bourbon. “We never met the man who stole our baby from us.”
“Did she tell you anything about him?” Amanda asked softly, afraid to disturb the moment.
“They flew into England, made it their base. She called often to tell us all about their little jaunts. She did not mention meeting a man. I would have remembered.”
“Yes. So my father is English.”
“Possibly. She was gone for two months. They started out in England but bounced around from there. They also went to Ireland, Paris, Milan, Pasadonia.”
