Read Online Watching Amanda by Janelle Taylor - Free Book Online Page B

flip-flopping.
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    Bright and early Saturday morning, Amanda stood on West Seventy-fourth Street, one hand on Tommy’s stroller and the other clutching his overstuffed diaper bag. The taxi driver placed her two suitcases on the curb, smiled and left, and she stared up at the stunning brownstone that would be her home.
    If she didn’t screw up William’s crazy rules.
    The building was tucked between other beautiful brownstones on a tree-lined street. Central Park was, literally, a stone’s throw away.
    â€œWhat a difference from our old home,” she said to Tommy, kneeling down next to him. He was bundled up in a stroller sleeping bag and a blue wool hat with the Yankees insignia—a gift from Lettie’s husband. His round apple cheeks were slightly red from the fresh cold December air. “Isn’t it beautiful, Tom? You’ll have your own room, too. For the first time, you’ll have your very own nursery.”
    Without your very own crib. It would be strange to live without her furniture. When Amanda had picked up the keys from George Harris yesterday morning, the lawyer had explained that the brownstone was fully furnished, including the nursery, and that Amanda and Tommy would be in need of nothing, except personal clothing. The taxes and maintenance were paid for through the law firm, as were the services of a housekeeper and handyman. Even the cabinets and the refrigerator were stacked with enough food for at least the first week.
    Amanda had put her furniture, which didn’t add up to much, into storage. Once she had a chance to breathe, to think, to plan, she’d start looking for an apartment for her and Tommy. She wouldn’t rely on this brownstone being her home. There had to be a catch even beyond the silly rules in the letter. She’d make sure she had a new apartment lined up so that she’d have options.
    â€œYou know I hate to be a parade rainer,” Jenny had said yesterday, “but how are you going to look for an apartment when you don’t have a job to list on the application? How are you going to prove you can pay your rent?”
    Good questions , Amanda had thought.
    â€œHoney, accept, ” her dear friend had said. “Do what you have to do. Which is to live in that brownstone exactly as instructed for a month. Big whoop. Once it’s yours, you can sell it for a more modest place and invest the rest in Tommy’s future.”
    Jenny was right, Amanda knew that. There was a time for pride and there was a time for reality.
    Right now, it had to be about reality.
    â€œOkay, Tommy, time to go inside,” she whispered, bracing herself.
    There were three entrances. One was a stately black door at the top of six graceful stone stairs; the other was a red door two steps down that was covered by an ornate wrought-iron gate. There was another entrance through the small back garden, which she’d been told about by day. Amanda opted for the red door. She hoisted Tommy in her arms, pushed open the gate, and wheeled the stroller with her foot until it was behind the gate. She’d have to come back for the suitcases in a moment and with any luck they’d still be there.
    The new keys she’d received from Mr. Harris worked effortlessly. She pushed open the door, stepped across the threshold, took a deep breath, closed the door behind her, and entered into a large foyer with pale red walls covered with small paintings, lovely watercolors, and lithographs.
    â€œYou’re early.”
    Amanda jumped at the unexpected voice. A woman in her fifties, wearing a plain gray dress and an apron, held a sponge in one hand, and a small bucket with cleaning supplies in the other.
    â€œYou startled me,” Amanda said, catching her breath.
    â€œYou’re early,” the woman repeated. “My name is Clara Mott. I am Mr. Sedgwick’s master housekeeper.”
    â€œOf course!” Amanda said, smiling. “Clara!