Watching Amanda by Janelle Taylor Read Free Book Online Page A

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?
    â€œWhatever 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.
    â€œHow 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?”
    â€œI’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.
    â€œOh 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.
    Â 
    â€œRight 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.
    â€œMr. 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,