Until She Met Daniel

by Callie Endicott

  “Yes. There were a few school things that went missing in the transition. Naturally we’re still figuring everything out.”

  He couldn’t explain how odd it felt. Though he’d always liked Joyce, they were now living in the same house, and that changed things. So far, they were a bit awkward with each other. That would ease, he was sure, but it would take time. They all had to learn each other’s habits and how to best communicate.

  “I’m sure you’ll work everything out,” Mandy said, still sounding politely formal. “Do you—”

  As the door clanged, she cut off her words and turned to see who was coming into the building. “Hi, Elva. What are you doing here so early?”

  The elderly woman eased her cane along the hallway. As she hesitated a little, Daniel leaned forward, planning to offer an arm to help. Then he noticed a slight warning shake of Mandy’s head.

  “I came to peel vegetables for the stew,” Elva explained. “Carrie suggested I could sit at the table and work.”

  “She’ll be grateful for the help. Jennifer called in sick today.”

  Elva nodded and continued down the hallway. Mandy pointed silently to her office and Daniel followed her inside and she closed the door.

  “Thank you for picking up on my signal,” she said. “Elva is stubbornly independent. Seniors aren’t expected to volunteer, but she comes in once a month to do her part anyhow. There are others, too, but it almost hurts to see Elva pushing herself to do it.”

  He’d noticed the elderly woman’s fingers were twisted from arthritis. “It’s probably better to be active.”

  “And it’s good to be her kind of stubborn. Offering too much assistance is tempting, but Elva sat me down my first week and made it clear that getting old isn’t for sissies and that she’d rather risk falling and breaking a hip than be wrapped in cotton wool and forgo her independence.”

  Looking into Mandy’s green eyes, filled with concern for one of her friends at the Senior Center, Daniel could imagine how hard it had been for her to learn to respect Elva’s independent streak. She might flit from one job and town to another, but she did care about people.

  “Do you have elderly relatives who gave you a feel for this work?” he asked.

  “No. I mean, my grandparents are getting along in age, but they were still working most of the years I was growing up and I never spent much time with them.”

  “You seem to have an instinct for it.”

  “Thank you.”

  Exhausted by the tension between them, Daniel squared his shoulders. “Well, I’d better get to work. By the way, I’m going to send you a bunch of reports and stuff by email. They might help answer some of the questions people have.”

  * * *

  MANDY KEPT HER tongue firmly in her mouth, instead of sticking it out the way she was tempted. Okay, so maybe Daniel wasn’t sending the reports so he could avoid spending time with her, but it felt as if that was his motive.

  She tried to shrug it off. That morning she’d gotten out of bed with a vague melancholy dogging her heels. Things were getting so complicated. What had happened to the sense of comfort she used to have in Willow’s Eve?

  It was hard to believe how much things had changed. The time she’d spent in the small town had seemed almost idyllic. Well, not perfect. She’d had to deal with Margaret, and that hadn’t been easy. And she didn’t enjoy paperwork, which the job required. But compared with what was going on now, all of that had been terrific. Now people were getting angry—and she was dealing with Daniel, all of which made her jittery and oversensitive. Of course, if things didn’t ease out, she could look for another place. She’d done it plenty of times before and could do it again.

  Sighing, she printed a complete list of the seniors taking the driving class that would start the next afternoon, and also emailed it to the instructor.

  Mandy was pleased when Joyce came for lunch that day. She introduced her to Jane, Dorothy and Lou Ella. The four women happily sat down after the meal and worked on a new jigsaw puzzle until Joyce left to get Samantha at school.

  “I want to thank you,” Daniel said when he stopped by later.

  “For what?”

  “Making Joyce feel welcome. She’s made a big change on Samantha’s behalf, leaving her friends and her home behind. It couldn’t have been easy—she must have lived in Ladera Heights for forty years.”

  “I guess that would be hard. I’m glad she’s getting acquainted with some of the folks here. She seems really nice and I think she hit it off with some of the others. It’s important to make friends, whether you’re six or sixty.”

  He nodded and left, and Mandy pressed a finger to her temple, remembering the old saying about being careful of what you asked for. She’d wanted to be thoroughly kissed, and now she was paying for that wish.

  Since she’d started so early in the day, Mandy went home midafternoon, heading onto the patio to enjoy the pleasant weather. An hour later, the doorbell rang.

  It was Joyce, Samantha beside her, holding Mr. Spock, who was so big he hung to her knees on both sides.

  Mandy smiled. “I see he’s been over there again.”

  “You don’t mind?” Joyce asked.

  “Heavens, no. He’s a free spirit, the same as me. Say, I was just about to have some lemonade and a snack on my patio. Would you like to join me?” The invitation was a little defiant with the memory of Daniel’s disapproval still ringing in her ears.

  “What do you think, Samantha?” Joyce asked. “Would you enjoy that?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Mandy appreciated the way Joyce didn’t agree for her granddaughter. She led the way into the patio, pulling a third chair into place, then brought out lemonade and a plate of cookies and crackers, with sliced cheese and hummus on the side.

  “What’s that?” Samantha asked, staring at the hummus.

  “It’s made from a kind of bean. You eat it with crackers or things like that. But it’s okay if you just want the cracker or the cheese.”

  “Mmm,” Joyce said. “I’ll have hummus.”

  It was one of Mandy’s favorite snacks, but she knew it might seem odd to a child. Samantha plopped down on the patio and played with Mr. Spock while her grandmother visited. After a few minutes, possibly thinking no one was paying attention, Samantha dipped a cracker into the hummus and tasted it, then ate some more.

  Joyce’s eyes crinkled in humor at Mandy, who grinned back.

  “I so enjoyed my first visit to the Senior Center,” Joyce said. “It’s smaller and more friendly than the one I’ve gone to down south.”

  “This is a great place,” Mandy replied. “Right now, things are a bit messed up because of the water problem, but there are good people here.” She bent down and offered the plate of cookies to Samantha. “How do you like your new house, Sam?”

  The girl’s face lit up and she stopped resembling a worried little mouse. “I love it. I got a bedroom with a...a kind of a round room in the corner.”

  “You mean the tower bedroom. That’s the one I’d like best, too. And it has a window seat so you can curl up on it and watch the rain or read a book and cuddle with your cat.”

  “I don’t have a cat.”

  “Well, if Mr. Spock comes to visit, you can borrow him to have up there. Or maybe you have a stuffed animal that would like it,” Mandy said, mindful that Daniel could have decided against getting his daughter a pet. No matter what he thought of her personally, she would never do anything to hurt or disappoint a child. “There’s a stuffed monkey I’ve had since I was five. His name is Tagus.”

  She studied Samantha’s face, trying to decide if she had her father’s looks. Her hair was the same dark color as his, and maybe the shape of her cheekbones were like Daniel’s. She had blue eyes and was neither plain nor an unusually pretty child
, though she was cute. She looked timid, though, and it tugged at Mandy’s heart.

  Samantha bobbed her head. “I have a stuffed bunny called Coco.”

  “That’s a great name.”

  Mandy hadn’t had been able to visit with Joyce at the Senior Center and found her enjoyable company as they discussed Galileo’s Daughter, a book they’d both read fairly recently, though it had been out for ages.

  “There’s Daddy,” Samantha suddenly said. She jumped up and ran through one of the gaps in the bushes.

  Joyce checked her watch. “My goodness, I’ve been here for over an hour.”

  Samantha came back in sight, pulling on her father’s hand.

  “It’s called hummus, Daddy. It’s real good.” She looked at Mandy. “Can Daddy have some?”

  “Of course.”

  Mandy picked up the plate and offered it to Daniel, who gravely took a cracker, dipped it into the hummus and popped it into his mouth.

  “Delicious,” he declared. Mandy thought he was avoiding looking straight at her.

  “I’m sorry you had to come looking for us,” Joyce said. “We were having such a nice time that I didn’t realize it was so late.”

  “Nothing to worry about,” he assured.

  Joyce stood. “Mandy, thank you for the lovely visit. I adore what you’ve done with this patio, making it such a comfortable place to sit.”

  “Come over whenever you like,” Mandy invited, this time avoiding Daniel’s eyes herself. “And there’s no need to come to the front door. The gap in the bushes works just as well.”

  After they’d gone, she idly finished the snacks, deciding it might as well serve as her supper. Mr. Spock yowled and she put the towel over her jeans, so he leaped up and settled down with a sigh.

  “What would you say to us moving?” she mused out loud. “Would you mind dreadfully? Of course, I was hoping we could stay here. I didn’t even think about moving again until recently and...well, maybe it will work out. I’m sure it will.”

  Mr. Spock settled his chin on his paws and didn’t appear to be impressed with her declaration.

  * * *

  CHRIS TWISTED ON the office couch, which had started out comfortable, but as each night passed, became more and more torturous. So far he hadn’t found anyplace else to live. As he’d feared, the kind of housing he needed was in short supply in Willow’s Eve.

  In the morning, he surrendered and drove to City Hall. It was early enough that there weren’t many people around, and he found Mandy frowning over a sheaf of papers on her desk.

  “Hi,” he said.

  She glanced up and swept the papers aside.

  “Chris.” She got to her feet and came around the desk to give him a hug. “How are you?”

  “Not so good. I almost called, but...well, I wondered if you would do me a favor.”

  “Whatever I can.”

  “Would any of the seniors you work with have an extra room they’d be willing to rent to me?”

  Mandy seemed disappointed. “Oh, Chris, I was hoping...never mind. I can ask around.”

  “Thanks. I’ve been staying at the forestry station, but it isn’t ideal.”

  “I guess not. Um, would you like a cup of coffee?”

  “No,” he said, not wanting to take a chance of running into Susan. After all, she was often at City Hall for her work with the city council. Hell, he probably should have called instead of coming. “Maybe I should go.”

  “Susan won’t be here this morning,” Mandy said suddenly. “She’s working all day at the mill.”

  “Oh, of course.”

  “Sorry, I shouldn’t have been so blunt. I just don’t know what to say.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “I really wish that...forget it. I’m still your friend,” she offered tentatively.

  “That’s why I came. Have a good day.” He walked out, wishing he knew how to repair his marriage. A couple of things were niggling at the back of his head, but he couldn’t pin them down. The only real difference lately, aside from the disaster over the water and sewer issue, was Evan going to college. But could their problems really stem from that empty-nest thing?

  Or was it something deeper?

  * * *

  DANIEL GLANCED INTO Mandy’s office as he walked down the hallway. Her hands were covering her face. He hesitated, then knocked on the door frame and waited until she glanced up.

  “Uh, hi,” she said, shaking her head slightly, as if she was gathering her thoughts. “Something up?”

  “I saw Chris Russell was here.”

  Her face flushed. “Do not lecture me about who I talk to.”

  “I wasn’t going to do that,” he said quietly.

  Mandy rubbed her forehead. “Okay, maybe I overreacted. It’s just that Chris is a friend and I was too much of a coward to admit I’d gotten involved with the mess that’s tearing his marriage apart.”

  “Do you really think that’s the problem?”

  She sighed. “Probably not. It was merely the ignition point. And I keep thinking about something you said...that maybe it’s become archaic to think you can spend your whole life with one person.”

  A flash of regret went through Daniel. He’d grown up cynical, watching a destructive marriage. But even though he thought Mandy had some unrealistic ideas, he didn’t want to be the one who ripped them apart.

  “Yeah, but you said you still believed in love and marriage, even if it wasn’t for you,” he reminded her.

  “I want to believe it.” She frowned. “The odd thing is, I think Chris has been a whole lot happier than Susan. Surely, marriage doesn’t depend on one person being happier than the other. Isn’t there a middle ground, where being true to yourself is balanced with consideration for your mate?”

  “You think it’s Chris’s fault, then?”

  “I don’t know it’s anyone’s fault. But when I think about my ex, I know he saw me a certain way, and that if I’d pretended to be the person he wanted, we’d still be married and he’d be happy.”

  “And you’d be miserable.” Daniel couldn’t imagine Mandy as the wife of a private college professor. “What about looking at the Russells logically? Maybe they shouldn’t have gotten together in the first place, in the same way you didn’t belong with your ex-husband.”

  Daniel had often felt his parents would have been healthier if they’d intelligently examined their marriage, instead of blindly reacting against each other all the time. They could have figured out their problems—where they could and couldn’t compromise—then rationally determined whether or not they had sufficient reason to stay together.

  Mandy’s eyes narrowed and she leaned forward. “Logic?” She snorted. “You mean I’m not supposed to care whether friends are getting hurt, and instead depend on rational, deductive thinking about whether they ever belonged together? Not a chance. And don’t tell me I’m supposed to be objective. They still love each other. That’s why they’re hurting.”

  Unfortunately, objectivity was becoming a challenge for Daniel, as well. When Mandy had leaned forward, he’d received an enticing view of her breasts beneath the neckline of the V-necked T-shirt she wore...taut curves, cupped by lace and silk.

  He restrained a groan. Plainly, the value of satisfying curiosity hadn’t lasted very long—at least it hadn’t lasted for him; he didn’t know about Mandy.

  “Let’s agree to disagree,” he suggested, stepping back toward the door.

  “Fine.” She waved her hand. “Have a good day.”

  * * *

  “HELLO, DADDY,” SAMANTHA said that evening, racing into Daniel’s arms and kissing his cheek. “Can Mandy come to my birthday party?”

  “Mandy?” he repeated. For Pete’s sake, the woman was invading every part of his life
, from cold showers, to City Hall, to his daughter’s hopeful eyes.

  “Uh-huh, I like her,” Samantha told him. “And the girls at school do, too. She volunteers there sometimes, and some of them go to the Senior Center with their grandmas. So they’d like it if she came, too.”

  “We can ask,” Daniel said, albeit reluctantly. He didn’t want Mandy becoming too important to his daughter, but it was difficult to refuse; Samantha had been crushed to learn her mother wasn’t coming for her birthday. “But I’m not sure she’ll be able to come.”

  “Will you ask her tomorrow, Daddy? Please?”

  “Sure, pumpkin.”

  He received an enthused kiss for a thank-you, and he could only hope he wasn’t making a mistake in helping Samantha spend time with Mandy.

  SUSAN DROVE TOWARD her parents’ home, wishing she was doing anything else except spending time with them. But it wasn’t something she could avoid; they’d asked her to help celebrate their anniversary.

  She arrived at seven-thirty sharp, surprised not to see any other cars at the house. The way her mother had worded the invitation, Susan had assumed it was a dinner party.

  “Where is everyone?” she asked when her father answered the door.

  He raised an eyebrow. “You’re everyone. We’re going to Verona’s. I have reservations for eight o’clock.”

  Dread hit Susan’s stomach. “It’s your anniversary. You and Mom should go have a romantic evening.”

  “No,” Big Joe said firmly. “I’m taking my two best girls out for a night on the town.”

  “Oh, yes,” her mother chimed in. “It’s what we both want.”

  Susan knew better than to suggest they go in her economy car, so she climbed into the back of their gas-guzzling luxury sedan, feeling very much the same as she had when she was a lonely child of ten.

  Chris was right that her father had a medieval attitude about running his family, but it was nothing new. She’d known that as a child. And in Big Joe Jensen’s mind, his daughter was still a little girl. At times it could be endearing. Other times it could be as irritating as a man who got crumbs in the bed.

  A half smile played on her lips. Mandy was the one who’d started her saying that. It was hardly original, but the first time she’d used the phrase, Chris had gotten a good chuckle.