Free Watching Amanda by Janelle Taylor Page B

sitting down on the edge of the bed that would be hers for an entire month.
    Ahh, she thought, sinking down on the plush mattress. The baby bear bed. Very comfortable.
    A small gold picture frame on the bedside table caught her attention. Amanda reached for it and gasped in surprise.
    It was a picture of her mother.
    She held the photograph to her chest for a moment, then looked at her mother’s beautiful face. Her mother was very young in the photo, in her early twenties. Amanda wondered if the photograph was always on this table, in this room.
    No, that couldn’t be. William and Amanda’s mother had known each other twenty-nine years ago, for a very brief period. He’d had many other women in his life since Amanda’s mother. Amanda didn’t even want to guess how many. He must have had the photo and instructed someone, Clara most likely, to place the photo in the room Amanda would occupy, plus do all the ridiculous color-coding and add the baby things to the house.
    Tommy began to fuss; it was getting to be his nap time.
    â€œTime to see your room, sweetie,” she cooed. She took one more look at her mother, returned the photograph, and headed next door.
    She gasped. The nursery was exactly what she’d always dreamed of creating for Tommy. She’d never had the money for all the extras, little details that delighted the eye and sparked the imagination, like the mural of tiny dancing monkeys with long tails on one wall, and the pale yellow shelves holding antique blue cars and trains. On the floor, leaning against one entire wall were at least a hundred stuffed animals, small and huge, all looking new and clean and adorable. A train set sat on a toddler table under the window.
    The walls were painted a soothing pale blue, and the name Tommy was spelled out in white block letters over the crib, a beautiful wood sleigh model with a firm mattress and soft coordinating sheets. There was a changing table stocked with everything Amanda would need, a diaper pail, a small armoire and a closet.
    For a man who never wanted to meet his grandchild, he went to great lengths to make sure Tommy had a dream room. It only deepened her confusion and she felt a twinge of apprehension. What was William up to?
    Amanda changed Tommy’s diaper and dressed him in a pair of comfy jammies from the armoire, then set him down in the crib and waited for her son to fuss due to the unfamiliar bed. He didn’t. He closed his eyes and pressed one little hand against his temple. In moments, he was asleep.
    Amanda looked at her son, so comfortable in his new crib, and felt her first sense of ease. Maybe she was worrying over nothing. She let out a deep breath.
    She had no idea what to do with herself now. She could unpack or take another look around the rooms ... or see if Clara would like a tea or coffee break, she thought, eager to ask questions about her father.
    With a last look at Tommy, Amanda tiptoed out of the nursery, leaving the door ajar. She headed downstairs, surprised by the silence. Had Clara left already?
    No, she found the housekeeper dusting the piano. “Clara, I’m about to make a pot of tea. Could I interest you in sitting down for some?”
    â€œI’m on duty, Miss Sedgwick,” Clara said, stressing the Miss . “I don’t take breaks while I’m working.”
    â€œOf course,” Amanda said. “So, how long have you worked for my father?”
    She saw the woman visibly stiffen at the words my father .
    â€œI’d really better not dawdle,” Clara said. “Once I get to chatting, suddenly an hour’s gone by.”
    Amanda nodded. Cracking Clara wouldn’t be easy. Perhaps the woman didn’t know much about William anyway. She wasn’t a live-in housekeeper and had never been, except for the summer vacations in Maine, when her father had been mostly absent.
    Have it your way, Clara , she thought. For now. I’ll open you up