Mending Fences (Destined for Love: Mansions)

by Lorin Grace

  They entered a hallway. To one side a glass door opened into a sunroom filled with easels, and canvases. Cupboards lined one wall. “This is our studio. Candace’s father designed the room with controllable blinds and special lighting, so we can paint day or night. There is also a separate air-filter system, so she can oil paint or even airbrush without fumes entering the main house.”

  They passed two closed doors, their chalkboard nameplates declaring the rooms to be occupied by the missing roommates.

  “This is the Nemo bathroom.” Mandy pushed open a door labeled “Mermaids only.”

  Daniel stepped into the room. “It looks like every animated movie with an ocean scene is in here. Hey, is that Mr. Limpet?”

  “Wow, no one ever notices him, but then most people didn’t watch movies with Grandma Mae. The Nautilus is in the corner behind the toilet, but no squid. You’ll notice the jetted tub is in Ariel’s cave.”

  Daniel came out of the bathroom and preceded Mandy down the hall. He stopped inches from walking into a wall.

  She laughed. “Trompe-l’œil means ‘deceive the eye.’ That is my hallway to nowhere.”

  Daniel touched the wall as if trying to prove his eyes were wrong, then turned to face Mandy. “You let me go first deliberately, didn’t you? Wait a second—your hallway to nowhere?”

  “First thing I painted when I moved in.” Mandy turned the corner he’d missed.

  The hallway opened into a bookshelf-lined room with two wing-back chairs. Little tables with lamps completed the library. A wrought-iron stairway circled up in the center. Mandy used her crutch to point to it. “Take a peek.”

  After a couple of minutes, he came back down. “Those beanbags are fabulous.”

  “We have a view of the stars most nights, too. I love to read up there.” Mandy hoped he hadn’t caught her blush. Kimberly, the roommate Mandy had replaced, had dubbed the space “Lover’s Loft.” The roommates were usually discreet when using it and warned each other off by placing a particular book on the table at the entrance of the library. Mandy had yet to use her chosen book.

  Turning another corner, they passed Candace’s door.

  “This is the other bathroom.” Painted to mimic a roman bath complete with marble statues and a Mediterranean view, the room represented more dateless weekends than Mandy would ever admit.

  Daniel gave a low whistle. “This must have taken awhile. The painting makes the room seem huge.”

  “We started painting our sophomore year. I didn’t live here yet, but I would crash whenever Uncle George visited Grandma Mae. He made it a point to come every other weekend to fulfill his duty. Drove me crazy, always bossing me around like a two-year-old. Painting this was my therapy.”

  Pausing at her bedroom door, Daniel asked, “May I?”

  “You’ll be disappointed.”

  He walked in and turned around twice. “This looks almost like your attic room at Grandma Mae’s. Even the pictures on the walls.”

  “Uncle George let me keep whatever I wanted from the house other than the silverware and silver tea set his now-ex-wife wanted. The rest of the things I liked are in storage. Mandy turned down the next hall. “Come on, the only thing left is the basement and for you to sign the laundry room.”

  She stood at the top of the stairs, the thought of going up and down them with the crutches paralyzing her. “Turn right when you go down.”

  “Aren’t you coming?”

  “If I go down, I must come back up, and I’m not good with my crutches.”

  Daniel turned his back to her. “Piggyback?

  She hesitated.

  “Come on. I won’t drop you.”

  Halfway down the stairs, Mandy knew she’d made a big mistake. The tingling of her nerves had nothing to do with the fear of being dropped. Her dreams and fears were colliding. She’d never denied she was attracted to Daniel Crawford, but so were half the women with Internet access.

  Vintage movie posters decorated the large multipurpose room, which housed a ping-pong table, treadmill, and exercise bike. Instead of setting her down, he walked around the perimeter, stopping to study the posters. He paused and turned slowly around. “This room doesn’t have any windows.”

  “The basement doesn’t have any. Candace thought about putting some in, but it was too expensive in the end.”

  The next door was labeled “Tornado shelter.”

  “Really?”

  “It isn’t decorated. You know, most of the houses around here have basements. Candace made hers more official. She grew up farther south, where tornadoes are an annual occurrence.” Mandy wasn’t fond of the little room. Fortunately she’d only had to use it twice. “On to the laundry room.”

  They entered the brightly painted blue-and-white room. Cupboards and counters lined one wall, and the other wall had a large washer and dryer, wash sink, and clothes hanger. The back wall was painted black and decorated with graffiti.

  “The back wall is a chalkboard. Everyone who completes a tour must add something to the wall and sign it. There are chalk pens in the basket.”

  Daniel set Mandy down on top of the counter and turned to face her, trapping her. Her heart sped up. If this were any other guy, she would be in full defensive mode. She pointed to the basket. “There are colored chalks too.”

  He stepped back slowly, stretching some invisible band contacting them until it released her. He rummaged through the basket and selected a white and a blue marker.

  She couldn’t see around him to see what he had drawn. “What did you write?”

  He shook his head. “You’ll have to wait until you can walk to find out.” Ignoring her protests, he picked her up and carried her back upstairs.

  It shouldn’t feel this good to be in his arms. It was exhilarating and relaxing all at once. Mandy tried to stifle a yawn—as well as her attraction to him.

  “That is my cue to go. Thanks for the fun evening.” He set her down at the top of the stairs, holding her until she had her balance. Then he stepped away and handed her the crutches.

  “Good night, Amanda.” He gave her arm a little squeeze and left.

  She watched the reflection of the headlights as he maneuvered the truck out of the driveway. And another point for the friend zone. Nothing wrong with that. They had been friends. Why should that change now? The pain meds must be playing with her mind, filling it with impossibilities.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Never had Mandy been so relieved to reach her prep hour. The first day after spring break was enough to make every high school teacher wish the holiday had never happened. One student swiped a crutch and used it to mimic a machine gun, prompting Mandy to lock them in the supply closet. She scooted herself around the room on her rolling chair. Her third-hour class was more rambunctious than usual, if that were possible. She confiscated two of Roderigo’s cartoons depicting other students in terms the school board would call bullying. Writing up the incident took her most of the students’ drawing time. Too bad the kid had talent. If he’d use it productively, he could go far. She watched the clock as if it were the last day of school. Finally, the bell rang, and the students filed out of the room to inflict their exuberance on another teacher.

  Somehow Mandy kept her cheering silent. Caught up on her grading, she pulled up the pictures she’d taken on Saturday at the Crawford place with Daniel.

  The fourth was perfect. Immediately she opened the photo manipulation program and started to correct the image. Magnified, the roof displayed more damage than she noticed through the viewfinder. Probably from the same tornado that had destroyed Grandma Mae’s house three and a half years ago. Why hadn’t Daniel repaired it? It wasn’t as if he lacked the funds for a new roof and insurance would pick up most of the tab. Were all those trunks still stored in the attic? The treasures carefully packed away almost a century ago were no doubt moldering. They had only ever opened a few of the trunks, but the yellow Jackie O-style ball gown still called to her. Anger flashed
. How could Danny be so irresponsible?

  The digital repairs to her photo brought the house in line with the well-maintained building of her memories. Summers spent with Grandma Mae shone as the brightest spots in her young life. Each year, she spent two glorious months alone with Grandma Mae while her parents traveled to some foreign location on a dig. At the time, she hadn’t understood the need to go make holes in the ground. Grandma Mae’s garden provided more than enough opportunity to dig to her heart’s delight, gorge herself on peas straight from the pod, and peer over the fence at the huge house next door with its sixty rooms to Grandma Mae’s six.

  Despite Grandma’s warnings, Mandy had slipped through the fence in search of the lone boy who dressed far too nice to be throwing rocks in the pond. She hadn’t found him, but Grandma Mae had found her and marched her down the long drive to the house, the following day.

  Grandma Mae knocked on the massive door. A uniformed maid ushered them into an office where an old man sat hunched over a desk, surrounded by piles of paper.

  He stared down her grandma. “Miss Mae, what is this about my grandson needing to have a friend?”

  “Now, Dan, you can’t keep the boy locked up with whatever computer game you gave him all summer. It isn’t healthy for him. You have some of the best climbing trees on this side of the state. Let him go out and play.”

  The old man stared at Grandma Mae for what seemed like an eternity but didn’t move.

  Grandma took a firm grip on Mandy’s shoulder and pushed her forward. “This is my Mandy. She will do him a world of good. Even teach him to fish. What do you say?”

  “He doesn’t want to fish. Doesn’t want to do anything.”

  “What he needs is a friend. I recall my Peter telling me tales of you needing one once.”

  “That was a very long time ago.”

  “I think you will find the needs of little boys haven’t changed much in seven decades.”

  The old man grunted. “If it stops him from crying every night, they can play together, but if he gets worse, she goes.”

  Mandy had prayed every night that Danny wouldn’t cry.

  Sitting back and pulling herself out of her reminiscing, she surveyed her work. A start, but then this was the easy one.

  The noise level increased outside of her door. She checked the clock —lunch, with a chaser of ibuprofen.

  After retrieving her crutches from the supply closet, she went to the teachers’ lounge and popped her leftover lasagna into the microwave.

  “How did you earn crutches?” The school’s football coach leaned on the counter, studying more than her foot. She had spent most of the semester dodging his advances. Didn’t spring training start soon? Or was that baseball?

  “Just a lucky break.” The microwave bell dinged, and Mandy slid her food out. The room was uncommonly empty. Now she had a real dilemma—hot lasagna and crutches. “Would you mind putting this on a table?”

  Coach Robb lumbered over to the table near the window. She should have been more specific as to which table. He put her food down and held out a chair for her, then took the seat next to her.

  “I think the trainer has one of those scooters in the athletic room.” He reached over and touched her hand. “I am sure I can arrange for you to borrow it.”

  Mandy slid her hand out from under his and picked up her fork. “Thanks, Coach.” She emphasized his title. “Do you think I could keep the kids from running off with it?”

  This time he touched her shoulder. “How many times have I asked you to call me Dirk?”

  Dirk the jerk. Hoping to dislodge his hand, Mandy shrugged her shoulder.

  Dirk shook his head. “I doubt the kids will leave it alone. I have enough problems with the football players who need it.”

  “I seem to be getting along well enough with my crutches, but if I decide I need your scooter, I’ll be sure and ask.” Mandy shoveled a too-large bite into her mouth.

  “Careful there, darling. You don’t want to choke.” This time his hand found her knee.

  She brushed it off and tried to scoot back but was penned in by the window and the wall. Where were the other teachers? “I need to finish something before my next class. Will you dump this for me?” At least she had an apple in her room. His fingers returned to rubbing lightly above her knee. Mandy picked his hand up and moved it back to the top of the table as one of the math teachers walked in.

  The teacher raised her brows and turned to the fridge. Mandy fumbled with her crutches and stood, looking for a speedy exit, but Dirk caught her by the wrist, causing her crutch to wobble. “No reason to rush off. You barely got three bites in.”

  “I really need to go. Thanks for the offer of the scooter.” Mandy hobbled out of the lounge as fast as she could. She would have felt bad about leaving Mrs. Bradly alone with Coach Robb, but Mr. Bradly was the wrestling coach, so she would be safe enough.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Daniel hit the intercom button. “Bonnie, can you find the numbers of the photographers who tried to help Ms. Vandemark?”

  “Yes, Mr. Crawford, and I have the confirmation for your trip to London. The service will be here at 4:00 p.m. tomorrow to take you to O’Hare. I hope you don’t mind—business class was full, I put you in first.” Daniel didn’t, he wasn’t nearly as uptight about spending a few extra dollars as his grandfather had been. Bonnie had worked for both his father and grandfather and tried to maintain their miserly standards. When Daniel visited the office as a child, she would sneak him candy. She often talked about retiring, but he kept giving her raises and more vacation time.

  “I’m happy you found a flight to accommodate the meetings, and I won’t complain about wasting money when it was my fault and I get extra room on a red-eye.”

  “I think the photographers are named in the police report.”

  “Thanks, Bonnie.”

  Daniel turned back to his computer. The compromise contracts his legal team had drafted looked solid. Thankfully they had limited themselves to one apologetic email about missing the clause regarding using his image for the British firm’s advertising purposes. The ad agency had tried to backpedal. Hence the reason he was meeting with them on Wednesday afternoon and their competitor on Thursday morning. With any luck, he could fly back on Friday and be at the Indiana property for the weekend before he had to deal with the courts in New York. He wanted to see Mandy again. Even if now was not a convenient time to start a relationship.

  What was he thinking?

  Renewing a friendship—that was all he was doing. No matter how fun or attractive he found Amanda, friendship was the extent of it. He’d plotted out the possibilities of a relationship on a spreadsheet after arriving back in Chicago early yesterday morning. Logically each one failed, but logic was not doing a good job at overruling his heart. But his current plan had nothing to do with his heart. It had everything to do with being a decent human.

  Bonnie tapped on the door before entering. “One of the photographers is Vic Jamison. His primary residence is listed as Park Ridge. Did you know he was local?”

  “I think he mentioned it.” Daniel reached for the paper she held. Instead of handing it to him, she turned, closed the door, and took her favorite chair to the side of his desk.

  “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on. And don’t tell me it’s about the old place and land developers. Usually when you take a few days down at the property you come back focused and refreshed. This time you are all wound up.”

  Daniel had two choices. He could tell her the truth now or wait until she wrung the details out of him. “I met an old friend, and the reunion didn’t go very well.”

  “Does this have anything to do with the medical-bill payment Colin sent through to the private account?”

  Of course she saw it. Why hadn’t he called her last week?

  “It’s the little girl from that summer, isn’t it? I thought I recognized the name.” Bonnie stared at him for a momen
t. “Only she doesn’t match your memories of the mud-pie making tomboy, does she? Glory be! I see retirement coming faster than I thought.” Bonnie practically jumped from her seat.

  “You have it all wrong. There is no way a relationship would fly. I tried to work it out on four different spreadsheets.”

  “Love is not a business merger. You can’t plot out a risk-benefit analysis, because there are factors that defy even the most complicated mathematical formulas.”

  “I am not in love.” Then why had he written that quote in the laundry room? ‘Good fences make good neighbors but lousy lovers.’ He started out writing the first half, a Robert Frost line familiar to the area due to its use at the Menno-Hof Mennonite Amish Visitor Center in Shipshewana, but then he’d pictured the new, unclimbable fence that replaced the old pole one at the estate and added the last part.

  “But you are afraid you may be if given time, right?”

  Daniel leaned back and contemplated the ceiling. If he had laser vision, he’d make the fire sprinkler go off to cool this conversation down. “Twenty years has built a huge fence in our lives. I don’t know where to go.” He let out a sigh. “May I have the photographer’s information? And no, it has nothing to do with the Vandemark mess. It is about a broken camera.”

  Bonnie laid the paper on the desk. “One year, Daniel, and I am out of here and off to the little place in Arizona whether or not you have found another way to guard your door against all the single females in the building.”

  “Thanks, Bonnie, you are a gem.”

  “Don’t you forget it. One year, Daniel. One year.”

  Marriage. Bonnie was convinced a change in his marital status would stop the stream of women trying to wheedle their way into his life.

  Daniel pulled into a parking spot in front of the camera store Vic had suggested. Now he just needed to stay in the store long enough for the photographer to set up and get the exclusive shot he wanted, a fair trade.

  Fortunately for Daniel, the “leaked photo” would serve a dual purpose. First, by confusing those whose livelihoods depended on keeping people like him in the headlines, and second, by informing the one person he needed to know that not everything was what it seemed. If he didn’t see her this weekend, she needed to understand before he went to New York.