The Last Mrs. Parrish(36)

“Nonsense. You know how he feels about you. You’re like family. Come on. We’ll have fun.”

“Absolutely,” Jackson said. “You’re more than welcome to stay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course,” Daphne said. “Let’s go inside and make lunch. Margarita is off this weekend, so we’re the cooks.”

They worked together in the kitchen, but when they finished loading the tortillas with refried beans, veggies, and cheese, they didn’t end up with neat and beautiful burritos like Margarita’s.

“They look pretty sad, don’t they?” Daphne said with a laugh.

“What the heck. They’ll taste good, anyway.” Amber washed her hands and tore off a section of paper toweling while Daphne reached into a cabinet and pulled out two trays. “Here we go. I think everything will fit. We’ll eat outside by the pool.”

“Oooh, yummy,” Bella called as they carried the food out.

They sat, the five of them, under the large umbrella, the reflection of the sun on the turquoise pool water making shimmery diamonds and triangles. A slight breeze sliced through the warmth—a perfect late-spring day. Amber closed her eyes a moment, pretending this all belonged to her. If anything, the last few weeks had shown her that Daphne now considered Amber her closest friend and confidante. Last night, after the girls had gone to bed, she and Daphne had sat at the kitchen table and talked late into the night. Daphne had told her all about her childhood, how much her parents had tried to make their lives seem completely normal despite the illness that crouched in the background, ready to pounce without warning at any moment.

“Mom and Dad encouraged Julie to do everything healthy kids can. They gave her the freedom to live her life the way she wanted, to try all the things she wanted to,” Daphne had said.

At first, when Daphne talked about all the hospital stays, the hacking coughs that brought up gloppy mucus, the runny bowels and trouble digesting food, Amber had begun to feel sympathy. But when she compared her own childhood to Daphne’s, and even Julie’s, her resentment returned. At least Julie had grown up in a nice house with money and parents who cared about her. Okay, she was sick and then she died. So what? A lot of people were sick. A lot of people died. Was that a reason to make them saints? How about Amber and what she’d gone through? Didn’t she deserve a little sympathy too?

She looked around the table at all of them. Bella, lazing back in her chair and swinging her legs back and forth, taking distracted bites out of her burrito without a care in the world, the pampered and indulged child of wealth. Tallulah, sitting up straight and concentrating on the lunch before her. Daphne, sun-kissed and casually beautiful, making sure her brood had refills and napkins and anything else they needed. And Jackson, the master of it all, sitting like a knighted lord watching over his vast domain and faultless family. Suddenly the terrible emptiness inside Amber was a physical gnawing, as if the very life were being squeezed from her. This was no time to go soft. She would win this time.





Twenty-Three




Things were so busy at work that Amber hadn’t seen Daphne in two weeks, since their kayaking day. But Jackson was out of town again, so she’d called Daphne to see if she’d like to see a movie, and Daphne had invited her to the house instead.

She had started fantasizing about the day the house would belong to her. She wanted to leave her mark on it everywhere. On one occasion, when Daphne left her at the house alone to go pick up the girls, she’d tried on every pair of Daphne’s underwear. Sometimes she’d go upstairs and use Daphne’s bathroom, brush her hair with Daphne’s brush, apply a little of her lipstick. They almost looked the same, she would think as she looked in the mirror at herself.

She arrived right at seven. Bella opened the door a crack and peeked out.

“What are you doing here?”

“Hi, sweetie. Mommy invited me over.”

Bella rolled her eyes. “We’re watching The Wizard of Oz tonight. Don’t try and change it to some boring adult movie.” She opened the door, then turned her back on Amber.

Now Amber rolled her eyes. The Wizard of Oz. If she had to listen to Dorothy keep saying “There’s no place like home,” she might kill herself.

“There you are. Bella said you were here. Come on in the kitchen.” Daphne appeared, looking perfect in a romper that looked very much like a Stella McCartney Amber had seen in a recent Vogue.

Amber sat down at the enormous marble island.

“Can I get you a drink?”

“Sure, whatever you’re having.”

Daphne poured her a glass of chardonnay from the open bottle.

“Cheers.” Daphne raised her glass.

Amber took a small sip. “I understand we’ve got The Wizard of Oz on tap for tonight.”

Daphne gave her an apologetic look. “Yes, sorry. I forgot I’d promised the girls.” She lowered her voice so Bella wouldn’t hear. “Once we’re half an hour in, we can sneak into the other room and chat. They won’t notice.”

Whatever, Amber thought.

The doorbell rang. “Is someone else coming?” Amber asked.

Daphne shook her head. “I’m not expecting anyone. Be right back.”

A minute later, Amber heard voices, and then Meredith was there, following Daphne back into the kitchen. She looked determined.