I’ve loved Bill since I was thirteen years old, she thought. But sometimes I wonder how it would have been if I’d given myself a few years after college to live in New York and date other people, have some breathing room.
She took another sip of coffee.
I never thought I’d go back to Palm Beach, she thought. Five years ago, I committed the worst mistake of my entire life there. No one must ever know. Please, God, she pleaded silently, please don’t let anyone know.
17
Walter Pierce opened an email from his daughter, Charlotte. Hope you love these as much as we do!
We. She meant her team up there in New York City. Ten years ago, any new product would have been presented to him in this office, right here at the factory, overlooking the production floor-pencil sketches on paper. He would have been the one to decide whether it was right for Ladyform.
Now he opened files on a computer. With the click of a mouse, he could review a digitized version from all angles. And a bunch of people whose names he couldn’t remember had already expressed their approval.
He clicked through images of what used to be called a sweatshirt but was now known as a “hoodie.” This one’s sleeves were equipped with built-in mittens that could be slipped off with a flick of the wrist.
The old Walter would have picked up the phone and asked the person proposing such a silly garment to explain why anyone in the world would want mittens dangling from their clothing. But instead, he hit the reply key, typed Looks great, Charlotte, and sent the message.
The phone rang. He recognized the number on the screen as Henry’s. That was a nice surprise. Normally, Walter was the one to initiate the phone calls.
“I knew I could find you at work,” Henry said.
His son’s voice was cheerful, but Walter knew it was his devotion to work that explained why Henry, his grandchildren, and now his ex-wife all lived on an opposite coast.
“I’m just about to head out. Your sister sent me a wonderful new design. How are Sandy and Mandy?” Henry’s two girls were named Sandra and Amanda, named for their grandmother and aunt.
“They’re a handful, both of them.”
Walter smiled as he listened to his only son chatter like a proud father. He leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and wondered how his life might have been different if he’d been more like his son. Henry spent just as much time with his girls as his wife, Holly, did. He coached their soccer team, filmed their dance recitals, and cooked breakfast with them every Saturday so Holly could sleep in.
I try to tell myself that times were different back when my kids were small, Walter thought, but I know I could have been a more hands-on father. “Tell them Grandpa Walt misses them,” he said, then added, “Do you think your mom’s still doing okay out there in Seattle?”
As he spoke, he rocked backed and forth in his chair. It was still hard for him to picture Sandra living alone. He had looked the house up on the Internet so he could at least have an image, but he’d only been inside once when she had invited him to Thanksgiving dinner.
Henry was silent for a few seconds. “She’s settling in, sure. That’s why I was calling. She talked to you about this television show?”
“She was very excited. Has the producer made a decision?”
“Not yet, but Amanda’s case is definitely on the radar,” Henry said. “I just wanted to make sure you were actually comfortable moving forward. I know how excited Mom can get. You shouldn’t feel obligated-”
“I don’t. As I told your mom, I’m proud of her for getting someone to revive Amanda’s case after all these years. She’s worked her heart out for this.”
“But do you want this?”
“Sure, if Mom thinks it will help.”
“Dad, that’s what I’m worried about. Don’t do this for Mom, out of guilt, or because you think you’ll be making something up to her. I know that not knowing what happened to Amanda is what came between you.”
Walter swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Your mother’s the most fierce and loyal woman I’ve ever known. Finding Amanda has become her life’s work. Trust me, if anyone understands the need to pour yourself into a passion, it’s me.”
“Dad, I’m not talking about work. I know you’re not always comfortable talking about your feelings, but how come we never talk about Amanda?”
“I still think about your sister every day.”
“I know you love her and miss her. We all do. But we never talk about her. How come you’re so sure that Amanda’s still out there?”
“I’ve never been sure. But that’s my hope.” Every night, Walter pictured his beautiful daughter and the adventures she might be having. She had always loved to draw. Might she be a painter on the Amalfi Coast? Or maybe she runs a quiet little restaurant in Nice?
“I guess anything is possible,” Henry said. “Then Mom says that Amanda would never leave us worrying like this, and that sounds absolutely on target, too. How can the two of you have such different opinions about what happened?”
Walter opened his mouth, but no words came out. He couldn’t go into it again. Then he said, “I appreciate your call, son. I’m absolutely on board about this. It’ll be nice to see you in Florida.”
“You can miss work?”
Funny, Walter thought, I agreed to do the show without even thinking about the company. “I’ll be out of the office as long as necessary.”
He knew it had taken him too long to see the truth, that he had been a terrible father, unable to connect to his children about anything other than work. My son, he thought, moved all the way to the West Coast to escape hearing about Ladyform breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Then I pitted my two daughters against each other, expecting them both to step into the family business, and not giving either sufficient assurances of my approval.
He wanted to tell Henry why he believed that Amanda was out there somewhere, living a new life under a new name. It was the only way, he thought, she could break free of me and be the person she truly wanted to be. But he just could not admit that.
“We’ll talk soon,” Henry was saying. “Okay, Dad. Bye.”
As he hung up the phone, Walter wondered whether Sandra and his children would ever realize how much he really had changed in the last few years.
18
It was Monday morning, which meant that Jerry and Grace were outside Laurie’s office, gossiping about their weekend activities. From Laurie’s vantage point at her desk, she gathered that Grace had been carrying on about the strikingly good looks of her latest gentleman suitor.
“And where did you find this one?” Jerry asked.
“You say that like there have been thousands,” Grace objected. “And to be clear, it’s all just flirting, nothing serious. I met Mark-this one, as you called him-at the driving range at Chelsea Piers.”
“You? Playing golf?”
“I’m a woman of many talents. The clothes are adorable, and so are the other players; what’s not to like? Speaking of surprising attributes, is that a tan I see?”
Laurie found herself paying more attention to their chatter than the memo she was drafting to the studio’s marketing team. She had also noticed some color on Jerry’s usually pale skin.
“I visited friends on Fire Island. And it’s not a tan. Unlike you, I have two settings: pasty or sunburned.”
Laurie found herself smiling as she hit the save key on her computer and rose from her desk. “Okay, are we ready for our meeting?”
Once they were settled into their usual spots-Grace and Jerry on the sofa, Laurie in the gray swivel chair-she asked which of them wanted to start.