one of them was.
Amanda wished she could borrow just a teaspoon or the older woman’s confidence. All of the Wilson’s had good looks, obviously a blend of the father and the mother. No one could deny they all had a regality about their features and the way they carried themselves.
Amanda had always been in awe of the Wilson family. Not that she didn’t love her own family. The Deans were awe-inspiring in their own right, but Amanda had always admired the rival family for some reason. Was it possible she’d known, deep down, that she was part of them?
“My father isn’t home right now. I can tell him you came by.” Usually, Mrs. Wilson stopped by to see Amanda’s father, spending hours sitting with him in the kitchen or living room as they spoke about business and competitions and other ways to build their competing businesses. Even though they competed, they worked together a lot of the time.
Mrs. Wilson must have bought a new car recently. She motioned over her shoulder toward the door, shaking her head. “No, I’m sorry. I’m not here for David. I came to… If it’s alright with you, I’d like to talk to you.”
Amanda’s breath caught in her chest. Mrs. Wilson wanted to talk to her? Was that something Amanda wanted to pursue? Maybe she should just say she was busy and didn’t have time for a talk. Was that too rude? It was obvious Amanda was doing something, she just hadn’t defined what it was. She could be needed back in the barn, or maybe she needed to run to town.
All the ideas ran through her mind, slowing her down and making her escape next to impossible without being blatant about lying.
Amanda swallowed and slowly climbed the steps, her smile faltering as she pushed past the older woman and led the way into the house. “Come on in.”
Once inside, both women slowly removed their jackets and hung them on the coat tree featured prominently in the foyer. The twisted gnarls and jagged knots in the natural wood tree looked exactly like a real tree that had been debarked and polished and shined. A specialty of David’s when he had the time to woodwork.
“Let’s go into the kitchen. My hands are ice after dealing with that stubborn alpaca. Can I get you some tea?” Amanda led the way into the expansive kitchen and not for the first time she wished her sister, Cari, still lived at the house. She’d be bustling around the kitchen in the midst of some tremendous baked dish that she wanted to try out. Now, though, Cari lived with her husband and she spent most of her days at the bakery in town.
While Amanda appreciated the easy access to Cari’s cooking, she didn’t appreciate the fact that she didn’t have her sister there as a buffer between herself and Mrs. Wilson.
Moving to stand opposite the stools at the island counter, Amanda waited for Mrs. Wilson’s response on tea.
“Actually, yes, please. That sounds delightful. Thank you.” Mrs. Wilson slid onto a middle stool at the counter and studied Amanda with kindness in her eyes.
Eyes that made Amanda decidedly uncomfortable. What could she see? Did she see a castoff child like Amanda saw? Did she know that Amanda doubted everything about herself? All her doubts and insecurities swirled and cut inside her.
Had Simon Wilson known about Amanda? Had he wanted her as a daughter? Did he not want her? Did Jennifer tell him? Was Jennifer ashamed of Amanda and that’s why she’d left? Did she blame Amanda for coming between her and Simon? Or worse, her and David?
Where did Amanda fit in? She wasn’t fully a Dean and she wasn’t even sure how much of her was Wilson. None of it made sense for her and that hurt more than anything else. She just wanted to know who she was and what she was worth. Did she have any value to anyone?
“I don’t know how to start this, so I’m just going to start, okay? My mind has been jumbled since the truths have been coming out and I’ve felt betrayed and disjointed and… so many hurt emotions.” Mrs. Wilson leaned forward, resting her forearms on the counter as she spoke calmly to Amanda. Her eyes blazed with passion that at first Amanda took as if it was directed at her in anger. “And then, I realized that while the things that were done were done to me, I was an adult through