Chapter 37
“Aimee, I need you to do me a big favor this morning.”
Amy, sitting across the desk from Cressida, smiled brightly. She loved being needed. Hayley had often called her a people pleaser, as if that were something to be ashamed of. “Sure,” she said.
Cressida handed her a slip of paper on which was written a phone number with an area code foreign to Amy. “This is the number of my great-aunt Emily’s nursing home. Call and let them know I won’t be at Emily’s ninety-fifth birthday celebration as promised.”
Pretty much the last thing Amy wanted to do was deliver a disappointing message to an elderly woman, but she realized she was sort of afraid to refuse. “Okay,” she said. “What should I say if they ask why?”
Cressida laughed incredulously. “They have no right to ask why, and if they do you can tell them it’s none of their damn business.”
Amy flinched. “Okay,” she said.
Cressida suddenly smiled. “You’re a lifesaver, Aimee. I hate how those people try to make you feel guilty for having your own priorities that don’t include them.”
“What people?” Amy asked. “Nursing home staff?”
“No, old people. They’re the most self-centered things you can imagine.” Cressida rose from her chair and announced that she was going out for a while.
Amy remained seated at the big desk in the bright office. She thought of her grandparents, who had been the most unselfish people she had ever known, next to her mother. She thought, too, of Mr. Sampson, an elderly neighbor who was always doing nice things for Amy and Leda, like giving them fresh catnip from his garden. Maybe some old people were self-centered but not the ones Amy knew. Cressida must have had a really bad experience with an older person; that’s why she considered them all self-centered. It wasn’t right to judge an entire group of people based on an experience with one member of that group but . . .
Amy got up and began to pace the length of the office. She hoped she could give the message to a member of the staff without having to speak to Cressida’s great-aunt personally. She hoped the woman wouldn’t be too disappointed when she learned that her great-niece wouldn’t be attending her party. But maybe Emily didn’t like her family. Maybe she wouldn’t care that Cressida was absent.
It was with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that Amy punched the number of the nursing home into the phone. As luck would have it a perky receptionist put her in touch with an aide rather than with Great-Aunt Emily directly. Amy stumblingly delivered her employer’s message, and though Cressida had not authorized her to apologize Amy did, several times. The aide didn’t seem surprised to learn about the cancellation and politely thanked Amy for calling.
That unpleasant chore accomplished, Amy busied herself with the trivial tasks she had been set until, almost an hour later, Cressida returned from wherever it was she had gone.
“Did you make the call?” she asked abruptly. Her eyes were bright, and there was a sheen of sweat on her face.
Amy told her that she had.
“Family can be such a huge liability,” Cressida stated, stalking over to the enormous window that looked out on the Atlantic.
“I only have my mother now,” Amy said. “My father and grandparents are gone.”
Cressida turned sharply. “You should feel grateful for the fact that it’s only the two of you. So much less grasping and whining to deal with. People are such a burden.”
Amy had never considered people as a burden, let alone her family members. In fact, she had often wished that she had siblings or cousins, and she missed her grandparents if not the father she never really knew. But Cressida was her mentor and Amy was here to learn, so . . .
Suddenly, Cressida strode over to Amy. “You deserve a treat,” she said with a big smile. “Let’s browse the Tiffany website.”
Amy returned Cressida’s smile. “All right,” she said. “Sure.”