He walked around to open Amber’s door, but she had already stepped out.
“Well, enjoy,” he said, and got into the car.
“He’s such a nice young man,” Daphne said as she and Amber walked up the wide stairs into the building. “His mother used to work for Jackson, but she’s been very ill the last few years. Danny takes care of her and is also working to put himself through college.”
Amber wondered what he thought about all the money he saw thrown around at this club while he nursed a sick mother and worked to make ends meet, but she bit her tongue.
Daphne suggested they eat on the deck, and so the maître d’ led them outside, where Amber breathed in the bracing sea air she loved so much. They were seated at a table overlooking the marina, its three long piers filled with boats of all shapes and sizes bobbing up and down in the choppy waters.
“Wow, this is just beautiful,” Amber said.
“Yes, it is. A nice setting to remember all the wonderful things about Charlene and Julie.”
“My sister would have loved it here,” Amber said, and meant it. None of her perfectly healthy sisters would have even been able to imagine a place like this. She tore her gaze away from the water and turned to Daphne. “You must come here a lot with your family.”
“We do. Jackson, of course, heads right for the golf course whenever he can. Tallulah and Bella take all kinds of lessons—sailing, swimming, tennis. They’re quite the little athletes.”
Amber wondered what it would be like to grow up in this kind of world, where you were groomed from infancy to have and enjoy all the good things in life. Where you made friends almost from birth with the right people and were educated in the best schools, and the blinds were tightly drawn against outsiders. She was suddenly overwhelmed with sadness and envy.
The waiter brought two tall glasses of iced tea and took their lunch order—a small salad for Daphne and ahi tuna for Amber.
“Now,” Daphne said, as they waited. “Tell me a good memory about your sister.”
“Hmm. Well, I remember when she was just a few months old, my mom and I took her for a walk. I would have been six. It was a beautiful, sunny day and Mom let me push the carriage. Of course she was right next to me, just in case.” Amber warmed to her subject, embellishing the story as she continued. “But I remember feeling so grown-up and so happy to have this new little sister. She was so pretty, with her blue eyes and yellow curls. Just like a picture. And I think from that day on, I sort of felt like she was my little girl too.”
“That’s really lovely, Amber.”
“What about you? What do you remember?”
“Julie and I were only two years apart, so I don’t remember much about when she was a baby. But later, she was so brave. She always had a smile on her beautiful face. Never complained. She always said if someone had to have cystic fibrosis, she was glad it was her because she wouldn’t have wanted another child to suffer.” Daphne stopped and looked out at the water. “There was not one ounce of unkindness in her. She was the best person I’ve ever known.”
Amber shifted in her chair and felt a discomfort she didn’t quite understand.
Daphne went on. “The part that’s hard to think about is all she went through. Every day. All the medications she had to take.” She shook her head. “We used to get up early together, and I would talk to her while she had her vest on.”
“Yes, the vibrating contraption.” Amber remembered reading about the vest that helped dislodge mucus from the lungs.
“It became routine—the vest, the nebulizer, the inhaler. She spent more than two hours a day trying to stave off the effects of the disease. She truly believed she would go to college, marry, have children. She said she worked so hard at all her therapies and exercised because that’s what would give her a future. She believed to the very end,” Daphne said, as a single tear ran down her cheek. “I would give anything to have her back.”
“I know,” Amber whispered. “Maybe our sisters’ spirits have somehow brought us together. It sort of makes it like they’re here with us.”
Daphne blinked back more tears. “I like that idea.”
Daphne’s memories and Amber’s stories continued through the lunch, and as the waiter took their plates away, Amber felt a flash of brilliance and turned to him. “We’re celebrating two birthdays today. Would you bring us a piece of chocolate cake to share?”
The smile that Daphne bestowed on Amber was filled with warmth and gratitude.
He brought them the cake with two lighted candles, and with a flourish said, “A very happy birthday to you.”
Their lunch lasted a little over an hour, but Amber didn’t have to hurry back since Mark wasn’t due back in the office until at least three o’clock, and she had told Jenna she might be a little late.
“Well,” Daphne said when they’d finished their coffee. “I suppose I should get you back to the office. Don’t want to get you in trouble with your boss.”
Amber looked around for their waiter. “Shouldn’t we wait for the check?”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Daphne said, waving her hand. “They’ll just put it on our account.”
But of course, Amber thought. It seemed the more money you had, the less you had to actually come into contact with the filthy stuff.
When they pulled up to the realty office, Daphne put the car in park and looked at Amber. “I really enjoyed today. I’ve forgotten how good it is to talk to someone who really understands.”
“I enjoyed it too, Daphne. It helped a lot.”
“I was wondering if you might be free on Friday night to have dinner with us. What do you say?”
“Gosh, I’d love to.” She was thrilled at how quickly Daphne was opening up to her.
“Good,” Daphne said. “See you on Friday. Around six o’clock?”
“Perfect. See you then. And thank you.” As Amber watched her drive away, she felt like she had just won the lottery.
Eight
The day after her lunch with Daphne, Amber stood behind Bunny in the Zumba class at the gym. She laughed to herself, watching Bunny trip over her feet trying to keep up with the instructor. What a klutz, she thought. After class, Amber took her time dressing behind the row of lockers next to Bunny’s in the locker room, listening to the trophy wife and her sycophants discuss her plans.
“When are you meeting him?” one asked.
“Happy hour at the Blue Pheasant. But remember, I’m with you girls tonight, if your husbands ask.”
“The Blue Pheasant? Everyone goes there. What if someone sees you?”
“I’ll say he’s a client. I do have my real estate license, after all.”
Amber heard snickering.
“What, Lydia?” Bunny snapped.
“Well, it’s not exactly like you’ve been doing much with it since you married March.”
March Nichols’s net worth of $100 million stuck in Amber’s head—that and the fact that he resembled Methuselah. Amber could understand why Bunny looked elsewhere for sex.
“We won’t be there long, anyway. I reserved a room at the Piedmont across the street.”