The Last Mrs Parrish. Liv Constantine
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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.
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