Watching Amanda (5 page)

Read Watching Amanda Online

Authors: Janelle Taylor

BOOK: Watching Amanda
9.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
“Well, I have to get back to the magazine,” Olivia said.
“And I'd better get back to the precinct,” Ivy said. “Declan,” she added, glancing at her watch. “You'd better hop in a cab if you want to make your ten o'clock class.”
Declan glanced at the clock on the wall and nodded. “You'll be all right?”
Ivy smiled and nodded. Declan kissed her and left.
“Nine forty-five,” Amanda said, eying the clock. “Tommy is probably just about ready for his morning nap.”
Olivia and Ivy glanced at her.
“How old is he now?” Olivia asked as they all gathered their belongings and headed to the elevator bank.
“He'll be a year next month,” Amanda responded.
“He's a beautiful baby,” Ivy said.
“He definitely has the Sedgwick eyes,” Olivia added as the elevator came.
And when the three women said awkward good-byes on the street and then went their separate ways, Amanda realized her sisters must have looked at the baby pictures Amanda had sent along with Tommy's birth announcement.
She smiled. Perhaps her sisters did care about their nephew, after all.
 
Ethan stood in the shadows of a doorway across the street from the Manhattan law offices of Harris, Pinker and Swift, reading the
New York Times
obituary of William Sedgwick as he waited for the Sedgwick sisters to appear.
... survived by his three daughters, Ivy Sedgwick of New Jersey, Amanda Sedgwick of Queens, and Olivia Sedgwick of Manhattan.
And suddenly, he saw her, Amanda, exiting the building with two women, whom he assumed were her half sisters, Ivy and Olivia. They stood in front of the building, moving aside when a group of office workers congregated near them to smoke cigarettes. Ivy, Amanda, and Olivia stood talking, their expression serious. Somber.
He studied Amanda, the one with the long brown hair. It was strange to suddenly see her in person after looking at her photograph for two days. When he'd finally read the rest of William's letter and then glanced at the photograph of Amanda, he'd been unable to stop gazing at it.
It was more than just her beauty, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was about her face that affected him so much. Some men might even consider her plain. She wore no make-up, and her hair was the hair of a teenaged girl—long and untouched by glop or dye or hairspray. It was her eyes, Ethan thought. Dark blue and searching, thinking.
Amanda Sedgwick was smart. He could see that.
What he knew of Amanda he could write down on the palm of his hand. He knew she was a single mother, but nothing of her relationship with the baby's father. He knew she lived in a dumpy apartment building in Queens. He knew she worked for a hotel, but in what capacity, he had no idea.
William's letter left Ethan wanting to know more. Sure, the letter from the attorney gave detailed instructions, including some pertinent dates and times, such as this morning's reading of the will, and the tenth, when Amanda would receive her envelope. But something was still missing. Though Ethan knew exactly what he was supposed to do, what he didn't know was why.
Ethan reached into his inside coat pocket for the manila envelope from William and pulled out the photograph of Amanda. He was careful not to slide out the other photograph. The baby's photograph.
Her hair was a bit longer now. She wore a plain black wool coat, and a plain back wool hat was pulled down over her ears. She was rubbing her hands from the cold.
Well, Amanda, you might soon be able to afford gloves
, he thought.
Unless you screw up.
The women went their separate ways, and he watched Amanda head for the subway. He thought about following her, checking her out a little, but he'd had enough of this city and it was barely ten o'clock in the morning.
Last night, when Ethan had finally arrived in New York, the sight of the Manhattan skyline caused every muscle in his body to tense. He'd had to pull over on the highway.
“Why did you make me come back, William?” he'd screamed at the top of his lungs in his car, thousands of glittering lights from apartment building windows and car lights decorating the night sky. “You know why I left. You know what happened here.”
Now, he took a deep breath.
How the hell am I going to survive here another day, let alone a full month?
he wondered, turning his collar up against the biting wind.
As Amanda disappeared down the steps of the subway station, Ethan headed the opposite way, keeping his head down, lest anyone recognize him. This neighborhood had been one of his old stomping grounds, and the thought of running into someone he knew—someone he used to know—was unbearable.
The cards and phone calls and concerned expressions had all been unbearable.
I'm so sorry for your loss, Ethan... .
Over and over and over. And some
I didn't even know you were married, Ethan. You lived, ate, and breathed the company... .
He stopped dead in the middle of Sixth Avenue and stared up at the bright blue December sky, willing himself to shake away the thoughts, the memories. And then he continued on toward his hotel, where he could hole up until it was time to officially start the clock on the favor he owed William. His hotel had an Internet café, which meant he could drink a lot of strong, bracing coffee while doing a little digging for information on the mysterious Sedgwick family.
CHAPTER 5
Amanda couldn't sleep. Again. She glanced at her bedside table. Five o'clock.
Five
AM
on Friday, December tenth.
Envelope Day.
Since leaving the lawyer's office, Amanda had been able to think of nothing else. What would be in the envelope? And what kind of envelope? Legal-size? Manila?
Would there be a letter inside? A check? A memento?
“Whatever it is,” Jenny had said yesterday as the two friends took turns pushing Tommy on a park swing, “accept it.”
Amanda flopped over onto her back and pulled the blankets up to her chin.
Accept it.
She'd spent her entire life “accepting it.” Accepting that she didn't have a father. Accepting that her son didn't have a father or a grandfather. Accepting that she had sisters from whom she was almost completely estranged.
When you couldn't do anything about your situation, she reminded herself, sometimes you did just have to accept it. You couldn't control other people; you could only control
yourself
.
And so when it came to the contents of the envelope, Amanda had no idea what she would do.
She didn't want to cut off her nose to spite her face, she thought, flopping onto her stomach. But she didn't want to live off her father's money when he was barely her father in the first place. William Sedgwick and Paul Swinwood had both proved to Amanda that blood alone didn't a father make.
Love. Concern. Togetherness. That was what made a family.
“How much do you have in your bank account?” Jenny had asked yesterday. “Enough to cover another couple of months' rent and some bills, right? What about after that?”
“I'll find another job,” Amanda had retorted, not wanting to tell her friend how dire things really were. “I have eight months' experience as a high-end hotel front desk clerk. There are countless hotels in New York. I'm sure I'll find another job.”
It had taken two months to find the job at the Metropolitan.
“Oh yes,” Jenny had said, “I'm sure your former boss will give you a glowing reference.”
Jenny had her there.
Amanda sat up in bed and leaned back against the headboard. “Mom,” she said, glancing outside at dark morning sky, “Give me the strength to do the right thing, whatever that is.”
Her mother would tell her that Tommy was the most important thing and that if she needed the money her father left her she should accept it with gratitude and think of it as someone up there looking out for her when she needed help most.
Her mother would tell her that she hadn't needed William's money only because she had a small inheritance from her own parents that had enabled enough security, should she lose her job. Her cancer battle had eaten up that money. And Tommy's neo-natal bills had used up her mother's life insurance.
She was getting ahead of herself, anyway. There could very well be a lump of coal in the envelope. Directions to William's grave site.
Nothing like bitter sarcasm first thing in the morning
.
Perhaps there
would
be a letter in the envelope. A long, handwritten letter from her father, explaining
why
. Explaining that he did love her, did love Olivia and Ivy, that he wished he had been a different kind of father.
Just find another job
, Amanda thought, watching the dawn break outside her window. Any kind of job to bring in enough money to cover the rent and bills. She could do that.
What's in that envelope is out of my control.
Please be a letter,
she thought as Tommy began stirring in his crib across the small bedroom.
That's all I want.
 
“Right this way, Ms. Sedgwick,” said George Harris's secretary.
Amanda steadied her shoulders and followed the woman through a door marked PRIVATE. Inside the room was a polished wood desk and a chair.
“Mr. Harris will join you momentarily,” the secretary said and then closed the door.
Amanda paced the room, then sat down, then paced, then sat down and stared at the door.
She glanced at her watch. It was a little after nine
AM
. She'd paced her apartment, wondering, worrying, chewing a fingernail until Lettie had knocked on the door to babysit Tommy. And then it had been time to go, but Amanda's feet had stopped listening to her brain.
“It'll be okay,” Lettie had assured her. “No matter what, honey, you'll be okay. You always have been. Just remember that.”
Remember that now
, Amanda told herself as the door opened and George Harris entered, a safety-deposit box in his hand.
With a cordial hello and a good morning, the lawyer set the box on the desk in front of Amanda. He withdrew a set of keys from his pocket, and opened the box, and Amanda closed her eyes.
“Are you all right?” the attorney asked.
“Nervous, but all right,” Amanda said.
He offered an empathetic smile, and then removed a plain, white, legal-sized envelope from the box. “Here is your envelope,” he said. “You are required to open it before midnight tonight. The contents of the envelope are self-explanatory, but should you have any questions, please don't hesitate to call.”
“Thank you, Mr. Harris,” she said, hoping he'd say something else, something assuring. But he said nothing before picking up the box and leaving the room.
When the door closed behind him, Amanda turned back to the desk and stared at the envelope in front of her. Typed in plain black letters across the front was: TO BE OPENED BY AMANDA SEDGWICK ON DECEMBER TENTH.
Amanda picked it up. Practically weightless. There couldn't be more than one sheet of paper inside. Or a check.
She gnawed her lower lip and turned over the envelope. There was nothing written on the back.
She flipped it over in her hands, willing herself to open it, to just get it over with already.
She slipped her thumb along the back edge, but then shook her head and stuck the envelope in the inside pocket of her purse.
She'd rather be in her own home when she opened it. Who knew what was inside? A check for a penny? A check for a million dollars? A letter explaining why her father had decided not to be her father?
Ugh. Just go home
, she told herself.
Go home, relieve Lettie, and open it.
Perhaps it will settle things for you once and for all.
 
“Did you open it?” Jenny asked.
Amanda twisted the phone cord around her finger and stared at the envelope on her kitchen table. This was the third time Jenny had called since Amanda had gotten home from the lawyer's office two hours ago.
“Not yet.”
Jenny let out a disappointed screech. “Amanda, how can you stand the suspense? It's killing
me
!”
I can stand it
, she thought. She'd stood it for twenty-eight years, and this was the very last opportunity to have some kind of understanding of the man who gave her life.
“You know what they say about ignorance being bliss,” Amanda said. “I feel like when I open it, my entire world is going to change ... or not, which is almost as bad.” She sat down on a kitchen chair and stared out the window. “I'm scared, Jen. I'm scared of what's in this stupid plain envelope that weighs next to nothing.”
“I know,” Jenny said. “But you've been facing your fears head on for a long time, Amanda. Whatever is in there, you'll handle it fine. I know it.”
“Thanks, Jenny.”
“Call me as soon as you open it,” Jenny said.
Which may be never
, Amanda thought.
You're required to open the envelope before midnight tonight,
the lawyer had told her.
The ringing of a buzzer startled Amanda. She wondered who it could be. Jenny was at work, and Lettie lived in the building and had no reason to ring the buzzer at the door downstairs.
“Yes?” Amanda said into the intercom.
“Amanda, it's Olivia.”
Olivia?
Amanda pressed the buzzer that opened the downstairs door, then unlocked her apartment door and waited for her sister to make the trek up to the fifth floor.
Olivia was probably surprised by the shabby five-story brick apartment building in which Amanda lived—that she lived in this run-down neighborhood, a long subway ride and river crossing away from the glittering lights and riches of Manhattan.
“No elevator?” Olivia commented when she reached the top step on Amanda's floor. “Good thing I work out every day.”
Amanda smiled. “Keeps me in shape.”
Which is a good thing, because I can't afford the time or money for a gym.
“Come in.”
Olivia came inside and removed her hat, gloves, and coat, which Amanda took and hung up in the hall closet. Olivia glanced around, clearly surprised that Amanda lived so simply.
“I won't beat around the bush,” Olivia said, pushing a lock of long blond hair from her face. “I'm dying of curiosity about the envelope.”
Amanda smiled. “I haven't opened it yet.”
“Not curious?” Olivia asked.
“Oh, I am. I'm just more nervous.”
Olivia nodded. “I think I will be too when it's my turn. But there's another reason I'm here too. Did you see this?”
Olivia held up
New York Now
, a daily tabloid newspaper that was full of gossip about wealthy and celebrity New Yorkers. She flipped some pages, folded the paper and handed it to Amanda.
Word has it that the daughters of William Sedgwick, one of New York's wealthiest businessmen and greatest philanthropists, were invited to the reading of his will only to receive cryptic information regarding their inheritances. Each daughter is to receive an envelope on a specific day, the contents of which no one knows. How exciting! Today, Amanda Sedgwick, 28, of Queens, is to receive her envelope. Let's hope our trusty informant can get a peek inside. We're dying to know!
Before Amanda could even register her own shock, the doorbell rang again. This time, though, Amanda had a feeling she knew exactly who it was.
She was right.
Ivy.
At the sight of Olivia, Ivy laughed. “Okay, so I guess we're all curious about what's inside that envelope.”
Olivia smiled. “My mother won't get off my back about it. She must have asked me a hundred times if I found out anything yet.”
Ivy laughed and pulled off her gloves. “Mine too—though I'm sure you didn't need me to tell you that. Ah,” she said, pointing at
New York Now
. “I read that garbage too. The partners of Harris, Pinker and Swift must be furious, trying to figure out who among their hundreds of employees, from lawyers to support staff, is on the
New York Now
payroll. Their celebrity clients especially don't appreciate reading about their confidential business in a daily gossip rag.”
Olivia nodded. “I called in a favor to an executive at the paper to stop printing rumors about me and my family. I think this will be the end of it.”
“Good,” Ivy said. “And it's ridiculously premature and stupid for the paper to assume we're inheriting anything.”
Once Olivia and Ivy were sitting down in the living room, in front of them a tray of hot tea and some cinnamon chip scones Lettie had brought over that morning, Amanda picked up the envelope from the kitchen table.
She brought it into the living room and sat down in an easy chair across from Olivia and Ivy.
“I'm a nervous wreck,” Amanda said. “I feel like once I open this, there's no turning back. From what, I don't even know.”
“I know what you mean,” Olivia said. “There's a lot I don't like to think about concerning our father. I feel like these envelopes will force us to think.”
“I guess that'll be a good thing, though,” Ivy said, sipping her tea. Steam swirled up from the mug. “Right?”
Amanda smiled and shrugged. “I'm glad you're both here, in any case. I don't think I could have opened this alone. And who better would understand whatever's inside than the two of you?”
Olivia and Ivy both nodded.
“Okay,” Amanda said. “Here goes.” She slit open the envelope, took a deep breath and withdrew a simple piece of white paper, upon which seemed to be a long list of instructions. Amanda turned over the paper. The instructions continued on the back of the page. She looked inside the envelope to see if she missed anything. No, there was only the piece of paper.

Other books

Conard County Marine by Rachel Lee
Pitch Imperfect by Elise Alden
Una mujer endemoniada by Jim Thompson
Capturing Kate by Alexis Alvarez
Broken Promises by Summer Waters
Crazy Cool by Tara Janzen