Until She Met Daniel

by Callie Endicott

  “Oh, of course.”

  Then she felt guilty, as if she was being too picky with the guy. But she liked leaving the door ajar so she could see who was coming and going, and many of the seniors felt uncomfortable about stopping for a chat if they had to knock.

  “Yoo-hoo, Mandy,” Mrs. Gower called from down the hallway.

  She walked over to the elderly woman. Elva Gower was bent over with arthritis and her hands were gnarled, but she faithfully hobbled to the Senior Center every morning and contributed extra money toward lunch in case there was someone who didn’t have enough.

  “Hi, Elva.” Mandy stooped and gave her a gentle hug.

  “Who was that man? Are you finally dating someone?”

  “Nothing of the kind,” Mandy corrected. “It was Daniel Whittier, the new city manager.”

  “He’s a handsome devil,” Elva whispered. “Don’t you think?”

  It was one of those impossible-to-win questions. If Mandy agreed, she might appear interested in Daniel—which could lead to gossip—and if she disagreed, no one would believe her. Plus, she’d be lying. Daniel Whittier was gorgeous and possessed a sexy magnetic quality up the wazoo. It was partly the way he moved, with the easy, deliberate grace of a panther, and she was a sucker for cats of any size.

  Mandy grinned, pushing the image away. “Elva, you’re going to make your beaus jealous if you keep this up. But I’m not judging. Make a play for him if that’s what rings your bell.”

  Elva chuckled and moved toward the parlor, while Mandy headed for the kitchen. Some of the volunteers were on vacation or home sick with the customary round of illnesses that showed up with the start of school. As a result, Mandy was cooking more than usual. She shredded purple cabbage to add to the salad, wondering if Daniel would eat with the seniors today. The folks would love having a chance to get acquainted with him, but she sure wasn’t going to be the one to invite him.

  * * *

  IN HIS OFFICE, Daniel pressed a hand to his throbbing head and dropped into the desk chair.

  Maybe it was a good thing Joyce and Samantha wouldn’t arrive for a while. Much as he missed his little girl, he had to get things settled at work, and he didn’t want his daughter to feel as if she was getting the short end of his attention. He didn’t doubt his ability to manage a small town such as Willow’s Eve, but he felt as if he was acting awkwardly with the people, especially since he was already questioning their secret agendas.

  Still, visits that morning from members of the city council and various other city officials had gone well.

  A knock at his door made Daniel sit up. “Come in.”

  A man entered and Daniel recognized him from the Skype interview he’d done with the city council.

  “Hi,” the mayor said while shaking Daniel’s hand. “I’m Howard White. I’m sorry I haven’t been in earlier. I had a doctor’s appointment and I thought I’d better keep it.”

  “Of course. It’s good to meet you in person, sir.”

  “Please, we’re not formal around here. Call me Howard.”

  So much for his vision of instituting a professional atmosphere into his work at City Hall. Daniel had a feeling he’d better get accustomed to having his plans turned upside down.

  “Howard, then.”

  “I’m awfully glad you’re here, and earlier than you thought you could make it.”

  Originally, Daniel had said he couldn’t start until the following week, but the mayor had seemed so anxious to have him start sooner that Daniel had made special arrangements.

  “You indicated I was needed this week if possible.”

  “Yes, we...haven’t had a manager for quite a while and...” Something was obviously on the mayor’s mind, though he appeared reluctant to say anything specific. “Anyhow, the two of us need to have a discussion soon. There’s something, I mean, well, we’ll discuss it after you’ve gotten settled. No, actually, we should do it before the city council meets this week.”

  “I’m fine talking about anything you want right now.”

  “No, it can wait. How do you like your new home?” asked the mayor.

  “It’s magnificent,” Daniel answered, mindful of Mandy’s advice about the town’s pride in the Bertram House. She was probably right. Despite her often pointless chatter, she seemed to understand a few things about how Willow’s Eve functioned.

  “We’re proud of the place,” Howard said, clearly pleased. “They talked about making it into a mayor’s mansion, but I suggested it would be easier to get a professional city manager if we could provide a nice house in the salary package.”

  “It made it easier for me,” Daniel agreed. “And it was gracious of the town to provide food and make the bed. You’d never see that happen in the city.”

  “Well, we want you to feel welcome. We’re really hoping you will consider staying for more than a year. You’ll like Willow’s Eve. It may be small compared with where you’ve been, but this is a good place to live. And it helps that we’ve got a good income between Fannie Snow’s trust and the paper mill.”

  “Paper mill?”

  “Oh, sure, out on the north end of town, and fortunately the wind doesn’t blow this way very often.”

  “What difference would that make?”

  “Once you’ve smelled the mill, you’ll know exactly what it means. Not that it’s a huge problem. You get used to it. And we don’t mind that much because the mill adds to the town’s tax base and provides plenty of jobs. The only problem is that...well, as I say, we can go into that later.”

  “How about now?” Daniel urged. “We’ll be able to operate better if I know the issues as early as possible. Besides, isn’t the city council meeting the day after tomorrow?”

  “Yes.” The other man heaved a sigh. “I suppose you’re right. There are two issues, basically. The town is on septic systems, but it’s possible we should shift to a central sewer structure, which would be a big change, and of course we’d need a treatment plant.”

  Daniel nodded, already mentally calculating the kind of money needed for a project of that magnitude.

  Howard walked to the window to open and close the shades a couple of times. Daniel waited.

  “There’s also another issue,” the mayor continued. “Joe Jensen, the owner of the mill, wants more water, and he’s pretty anxious to expand. But there are problems with our reservoir and...hell, the town needs more water, too. I’ve looked into federal funding, and we should be able to get some, not that it’s guaranteed. Regardless, it won’t be enough.”

  Restraining a wry smile, Daniel simply nodded. No wonder Howard White wanted a professional city manager on board. Two projects concerning that much money were guaranteed to be political hot potatoes. And water? In California, water rights were historically an explosive issue. Daniel knew he was due for a much bumpier year than he’d expected. But at least now he could start gathering information and get the groundwork done.

  “Have you discussed this with the city council?” Daniel asked.

  “I’m bringing it up at Thursday’s meeting for the first time. Since you weren’t going to be here, I tried to wait, but Big Joe keeps pushing. I...I know I probably should have said something before, but I wanted to wait until...and, well, you are a professional.”

  Obviously, the mayor hadn’t been elected for his oratory skills. He appeared to have trouble uttering a sentence without qualifying himself.

  “I understand.”

  Mayor White left after that, in obvious relief, no doubt thinking the ball had been passed and he could relax.

  Another knock on the door came a bare minute after the mayor’s departure. For a moment, Daniel pictured Mandy Colson, and was annoyed to feel his body responding. Damn. He found her exasperating, but couldn’t deny she had sex appeal...which annoyed him even more. He
wanted to be in control of any situation and relied on cool logic to make his decisions.

  At any rate, his priorities at the moment didn’t include women. He was focused on providing a stable home for his daughter while he sorted out the best thing to do for their future. His divorce and the resulting fallout had taken him by surprise, though it shouldn’t have since he’d never had much faith in marriage after seeing his parents’ unending misery together.

  “Come in,” Daniel called, reflecting that an assistant would definitely be a helpful commodity. But there was no use wishing for what couldn’t be had. Besides, the novelty of someone new would wear off and the revolving door of visitors would surely stop.

  The door opened and he saw Jane Cutman, the tall woman with gray hair and warm blue eyes who’d come to the house as part of the welcoming committee.

  “Good morning, Jane,” he said.

  “Hello, Daniel. I’ve been deputized to ask you to lunch with us at the Senior Center.”

  He hesitated. So far he’d accomplished little with his morning except being introduced to people and some of the town’s issues, but that was part of starting a new job. Moreover, he was hungry. Food prepared for senior citizens probably wouldn’t be very interesting, but that didn’t matter.

  “That sounds very nice. Thanks for the invitation.”

  The woman chuckled. “Good. And don’t worry. I won’t let them fuss at you to eat with us every day. You’re always welcome, of course, but I’m sure you’ll be too busy. Folks want to meet you, though, so I was deputized to ask.”

  “I look forward to meeting them, as well. When should I come over?”

  “We’re gathering now, but if you’re in the middle of something, it’ll be a while before we start, and even longer before everyone gets through the line. It’s not fancy service. Volunteers serve the plates and we take them to our tables, except for a few who aren’t as mobile.”

  “In that case, I’ll be out in a couple of minutes.”

  Jane nodded and closed the door. She seemed a quiet, competent sort of woman, and he hoped she would be able to keep the seniors from expecting him to socialize too much. Having the Senior Center located within City Hall was a dynamic he hadn’t anticipated.

  Closing his laptop, he stood and walked into the hallway, carefully locking up behind him, though he had nothing confidential yet to keep private. A group of gray-and white-haired citizens were gathered and chatting near the double doors leading into the dining area.

  Jane called for attention. “Everyone, this is Daniel Whittier. He’s our new city manager.”

  “Hello,” he said as various individuals stepped up to shake his hand and introduce themselves. “Nice to meet you,” he said, over and over again, the names blurring together.

  A vaguely familiar woman smiled. “We were so disappointed you couldn’t stay to have lunch with us yesterday, but Mandy explained you’d traveled all night and needed rest more than food.”

  “Yes,” another lady added. “And it was so nice of you to still stop and say hello after your long trip.”

  Apparently Mandy had gone back to the Senior Center and put a positive spin on his decision not to eat with them. Daniel wasn’t sure what to think about it.

  “You should be at the head of the line,” said the woman who’d introduced herself as Caroline White—mother of the mayor, he presumed.

  He protested, but they insisted he was the guest of honor and should go before everyone else.

  The first person he encountered at the serving table was Mandy Colson, carrying a large pan of a rice dish.

  “Hi,” she said. “I see you were recruited to help eat the food. We’ve got pilaf and meat loaf, with mixed vegetables and salad. And dessert, of course.”

  Meat loaf. He might have known. What else could you expect from lunch at a senior center? Memories rose of his mother’s flavorless meat loaf, dry but greasy, accompanied by a heap of smoldering anger because his father was late from work as always. The only good thing Daniel could say about his childhood meals was that he’d learned how to eat anything and still dispense a compliment.

  * * *

  MANDY SIGNALED TO the volunteers to begin serving the plates. One table had been set aside as the official welcome table, with the mayor’s mother as the designated hostess. Not surprisingly, Margaret Hanson and her husband were among those seated at that table—Margaret constantly wanted to be in the center of things.

  While listening to Mrs. Brewster chatter about her grandchildren, Mandy watched Daniel fork up a large bite of meat loaf and shove it into his mouth with the air of a man determined to swallow without tasting.

  He gulped slightly and she hoped he wouldn’t choke, not that he wouldn’t have plenty of help if he did. Half the crowd knew the Heimlich maneuver since she’d sponsored a first aid class two months earlier.

  Instead of choking, Daniel’s eyebrows shot up and his gaze dropped to his plate with a startled expression. He began chewing with renewed attention. Caroline White leaned closer and said something, while the others around the table nodded and laughed.

  Mandy could guess what was being discussed. The first time she’d put “barbecue loaf” on the monthly menu, she had received a number of discreet phone calls, warning her that meat loaf wasn’t a popular entrée, no matter what it was called. Basically, they’d said the men wouldn’t eat it and the women didn’t enjoy it that much, either. But Mandy had persisted. They’d had a lighter group than normal that day, and shortly afterward the phone had begun ringing off the hook...with requests for the recipe. She’d shared it happily, giving full credit to the author, a woman she’d met during her travels.

  As one pan of meat loaf disappeared, she carried out another, and still more as folks returned to refill their plates. The volunteers took seconds around to the folks who found it hard to get to the serving table.

  She slid back into the kitchen for a minute of solitude, then picked up one of the pans of warm blackberry cobbler she’d prepared for dessert. The berries had come from the youth group at the church down the street, picked the previous evening for a service project and proudly delivered that morning by Shawn, the pastor’s son.

  A smile tugged at Mandy’s mouth as she recalled her conversation with Shawn; he’d shamefacedly confessed to being in on the goat-snatching prank after Saturday’s practice game. She’d just grinned, understanding all too well what it was like to grow up with everyone expecting you to be a miniadult with the discretion of a senior citizen, simply because your parents were in a respected public position. Her hometown wasn’t small, but the private university where her parents taught was its own little world, probably similar to a town like Willow’s Eve.

  After carrying in several pans of cobbler, she fetched vanilla ice cream from the freezer.

  “Hey,” Clyde Bonner called from the serving table. “You going to eat today?”

  “Sure.” Mandy took the plate he had prepared and she joined the rest of the volunteers. It was hard to ignore Daniel’s presence a few tables away.

  After she’d finished eating, she went to her office, wishing for once it was her habit to keep the door shut.

  “Mandy?”

  Great. It was Daniel. “Uh, hi. Everything okay?”

  “Fine. I understand I have you to thank for the meal.”

  “Nope,” Mandy denied. “Everyone chipped in. They were debating who got to pay, so I suggested everyone throw in a nickel. Not that it was necessary. There’s always plenty of food. The meals aren’t free at the center, just cheap. They say that Fannie considered fully funding free lunches, then decided that having to pay something kept people invested.”

  Daniel looked taken aback. “I wasn’t talking about the cost. I was thanking you for preparing such an excellent lunch.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t usually cook on
consecutive days, but it sometimes works out that way when the volunteers aren’t available. Normally I do it eight or nine times a month and fix my favorite recipes, such as meat loaf.”

  “The meat loaf was a nice surprise. I don’t usually care much for it.”

  “Yeah, I saw your expression of horror when you heard the menu.”

  “You’re imagining things. I did not have an expression of horror.”

  “Maybe, but tell the truth. You were trying to swallow without tasting it, weren’t you?”

  His voice was stiff. “As I said, meat loaf isn’t my favorite dish, but I enjoyed yours.”

  For Pete’s sake, why was he acting as if he had a stick up his butt?

  “Is there anything else I can do for you?” she asked politely, stifling a yawn. He might be gorgeous, but didn’t he have a scrap of humor in his body?

  “Yes. I heard something that made me wonder if you were the one who cleaned my office last night.”

  Damn. How had that gotten around?

  She shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. The mayor asked if I could help get it ready, and there wasn’t anyone else available.”

  “I don’t understand,” he said. “Why you?”

  “Why not me?”

  “You’re the Senior Center director.”

  “So?” Mandy had never believed a job well-done was beneath her, and having the title of “director” hadn’t changed her opinion. “I told you, I help out with stuff. I’ve gotten to know folks and I volunteer for community projects.”

  “But they said you were here most of the night.”

  “If it was going to get cleaned, that’s when it had to happen.”

  Daniel muttered something to himself.

  “Excuse me?” she prompted.

  “Nothing. I...thank you, again. You must be tired.”

  “There’s nothing I can’t accomplish as long as I have a big cup of coffee first thing in the morning.”

  He grimaced. “From the Handy Spandy?”

  “Heavens, no. That stuff must be filtered through potting soil.”

  “You have a gift for understatement.”