“Nah.” Mandy looked over at him, her blue eyes a bit glassy, too. She set the empty food bags on the table then stretched her legs across the middle cushion so her stockinged toes tickled the side of his thigh. “Wouldn’t have minded riding around on a float, though.”
“I could see you on a float!” He laughed. “With a big old sash on it that says Queen.”
“Queen?” She seemed to consider that a moment, gaze narrowed. “Do I have a crown?”
“A big old rhinestone sucker.” He held his hands up around his head to show her. “Like the one they give Miss America.”
“Yes! I’ve always wanted a crown.” She snuggled farther down, tucking her freezing toes beneath his warm leg. He peeked one eye open to look at her. She shrugged. “What? My feet are cold.”
“More like ice.” He chuckled. They felt nice, though, bumping up against his butt. He wondered how much nicer it would be to have all of her underneath him, and damn if his blood didn’t rush south again. Flushed and dizzy, his pulse stuttered. Maybe it was time to go to bed. He started to get up, but Mandy held him back with a hand on his arm.
“You can’t leave yet. Game’s not over,” she frowned. “What about ‘Twist and Shout’?”
“Twist and Shout?” The words felt mushy in his mouth. Yeah, he really needed to go.
But then the strains of Danke Schoen started, and Mandy grabbed a screwdriver from his toolbox in the corner, and before he knew it, they were both on their feet belting out the tune along with Ferris.
“Change of rules,” she shouted in between verses. “Since you don’t look like you’ll make it to the Ferrari scene.” Affronted, Alex frowned. He could handle his booze just fine. If the room would just hold still while he danced. “Let’s have an epic sing-off battle to see who’s the winner.”
At his derisive snort, she gave him a challenging stare. “What? Afraid you won’t win?”
His old competitive streak raged back full force. “Prepare for defeat!”
“Ha! And…go!” she shouted as the music changed to the classic Beatles song.
The room filled with their sour notes and laughter. They bumped and grinded, gearing up toward the rousing finale. The music reached its crescendo, and Alex grabbed Mandy’s hand to lead her into a spin. Then they crashed together and no one was laughing anymore.
Time slowed as he stared down into her wide blue eyes. With each breath, her breasts grazed his chest. He shifted closer, his hips pressing into hers, craving her warmth more than he craved oxygen. Mandy was beautiful, brilliant, everything he’d always wanted and nothing he allowed himself to have.
Until now.
Pulled by an invisible cord, he leaned closer, closer…
The song ended and Mandy stepped back, swallowing the last of her ale. “I win.”
His heart raced a mile a minute, and his tongue felt thick. “I’m, uh, going to bed.”
A total cop-out, he knew, but these days he was all about safety over adventure.
Behind him, Mandy clicked off the TV. “Me too.”
“Good night.” He stopped near the bottom of the steps, hanging onto the banister for balance. “That was fun. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Her smile made his heart ache. “Night.”
Chapter Eight
Mandy arrived a few minutes early on Thursday for her audition at the Playground. Ten children were running around, yelling and banging toys together, smearing chalk and finger paints all over everything, including each other. Mandy took a deep breath and smiled at Brenda. “Hi, again.”
“Hi. Dr. Scofield’s expecting you.” Brenda grabbed her purse and came around her desk. “Be back after my lunch break.”
“Wait!” Mandy stopped her as she walked out the door “You’re leaving me alone?”
“Nah. Dr. Scofield’s in his office.” She pointed toward a closed door near the back of the room. “He’ll be out shortly. And if things get too out of control, he’ll handle it.”
Mandy turned around to see a little boy barreling toward her with a red wagon. She moved in time to keep her toes from getting squashed.
“Here,” Brenda said, stepping back inside to whistle loudly. All ten kids stopped in their tracks. “Listen up everybody. Miss Mandy is here to read to you. She’s in charge while I’m gone, and you will do whatever she says. Understand?”
The kids nodded mutely.
She smiled. “There. Okay. Have fun. I’ll be back.” A jangle of bells followed Brenda’s departure, and Mandy stared at the kids once more, swallowing hard. She could do this. She loved kids. She was a trained entertainer. Couldn’t be any worse than opening-night jitters. She tugged on the hem of her white shirt then rubbed her hand on the leg of her black pants. She’d dressed down a bit today, remembering how out of place she’d felt at her initial interview in her fancy pantsuit.
A black boy who stood near the back of the group and looked maybe six, called out, “What’s your name again?”
“Amanda Reynolds.” She gave him a smile, the corners of her mouth quivering slightly. “But you guys can call me Mandy. What’s yours?”
“Roscoe.” He looked her up and down. “You got pretty hair, Mandy.”
“Thanks.” A bit of the tightness in her chest eased. See? Not so bad at all. She got along great with kids. Heck, she was kind of just a big kid herself. “I like your Cookie Monster shirt.”
“Cookie Monster’s okay,” a smallish girl with frizzy brown hair and thick glasses said, shoving her way to the front of the group. “My name’s Ruth Epstein, and I like Elmo better.”
“Elmo sucks. Girls too.” This from the Asian kid next to Ruth, his lip curled in disgust.
“You shouldn’t say that. Girls are nice.” Mandy crouched to put herself at eye level with him. “What’s your name?”
“Chen.”
“Well, Chen, I think you should apologize to Ruth.”
Ruth stuck her tongue out at him as a redhead tapped Mandy on the shoulder.
“Yes?” Mandy asked the little girl who was bouncing on her heels with excitement, doing her best to keep all the names straight.
“I’m Patricia and my mommy says boys think with the wrong head, and that’s why girls are smarter.”
Mandy bit back a laugh. “Well, Patricia. That’s not very nice to say, either.”
“Yeah, that’s right!” Ruth said again. “You’re rude and you’re stupid, Chen.”
“I have to go to the bathroom,” the little boy with the red wagon said from the other side of the room.
“Me, too,” four other kids agreed in unison.
Right. Bathroom. Her mind whirled with names and her pulse doubled. She’d expected to do some babysitting as part of the job, just maybe not ten kids all at once. She glanced at the office door to see if Dr. Scofield was watching her then looked at the security cameras positioned around the room. Chances were good he could still observe her, even if it wasn’t directly, and this definitely felt like a test. One she intended to pass because she needed this job, darn it.
“Okay.” She straightened and walked over to take the little boy’s hand. “If you have to go potty, line up here and I’ll take you one at a time.” Then to the little boy, “What’s your name?”
“Nathan.”
“Hi, Nathan. I’m Mandy. Can you do this alone or do you need help?”
“Alone.” He squared his tiny shoulders. “I’m a big boy.”
“Go for it then.” Mandy nudged him toward the toilet. “I’ll wait for you outside the door.”
Except when she turned around again, the room was in chaos. Roscoe had climbed on top of an unstable small plastic table while Chen dug through Brenda’s desk drawers.
Dr. Scofield walked out of his office and took a seat near the windows, a pad of paper and pen in his hand. Mandy’s heart plunged to her toes
. So much for making a good impression. “You can’t turn your back on them,” he said, not looking at her. “They’ll eat you alive.”
“Sorry.” Heat climbed her neck as she took off toward Roscoe, determined to save the situation and her chances at getting the job. After taking him down off the table, she headed for Chen at the desk. Almost made it, too, until the bathroom door banged open and Nathan ran out, pants down and tears streaming.
“Hey!” Mandy caught him and pulled his pants up. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
“I missed,” he sobbed.
Uh oh.
A foul stench drifted from the bathroom as Patricia upended a container of crayons atop Ruth’s head. The two girls began screaming and hitting each other and Mandy ran over to pull them apart, a crying Nathan in tow. By the time she’d averted that crisis by separating the girls to opposites sides of the room, she felt sweaty and frazzled and completely incompetent. Yelling and screaming and crying reverberated off the walls to a near deafening level.
Grinning, Dr. Scofield crossed his legs and yelled to her, “Having fun yet?”
No. But his snarky comment did piss her off. She might be a loser at the moment, but she wasn’t a quitter, dammit. Brenda had whistled to control the room. Maybe that would work for her too. Shoulders squared, she climbed atop one of the chairs beside Dr. Scofield and gave the loudest wolf whistle she could to carry over the noise. It worked. All ten kids froze in place, staring at her.
Now that she had their attention, she inhaled deeply, then took charge, aware of Dr. Scofield beside her, watching her every move. “Roscoe, pick up the toys. Ruth, apologize to Patricia, and both of you put those crayons back in the box. And Chen.” She pointed to where he’d scrawled rude words on the wall with finger paints. “Clean that off with wet wipes. The rest of you sit on the mat and behave. Story time starts as soon as I finish with Nathan.”
One by one, the kids obeyed, with only a few grumbles and an eye roll from Chen.
Mandy stepped down off the chair, her knees still wobbling from adrenaline and her pulse pounding. Dr. Scofield gave an approving nod. “Nice job. Go deal with Nathan. I’ll keep an eye on the rest for you.”
“Thanks.” Still a bit stunned by what she’d done, Mandy took Nathan back to the bathroom and got him and the room cleaned up then returned to the seats by the window. “Are things usually that crazy?”
“Worse.” Dr. Scofield chuckled and scribbled something on his pad then looked up at her. “Still want to do this?”
At first, Mandy had her doubts, but now she realized there was no question in her mind. She looked out at the kids sitting on the mat, waiting for her, and satisfaction expanded in her chest. The kids might be a handful, but they needed her. It had been a long time since she’d felt part of something important, and she liked it. “Yeah. I do.”
Dr. Scofield chuckled. “Good.”
Feeling a bit more relaxed, Mandy selected a story from the bookcase behind Brenda’s desk and pulled a chair out to the center of the mat in front of the half-circle of kids. “Alice in Wonderland. Have any of you read this one before?”
One hour and numerous questions later, the bells above the front door jangled as Brenda returned from lunch and Mandy finished her chapter with Alice having spoken to the hookah pipe-smoking Caterpillar and eating the mushroom, which made her nine inches tall.
“Okay, kids,” Dr. Scofield called. “That’s all we have time for today.”
Chen raised his hand. “Are you coming back, Mandy?”
She glanced at Dr. Scofield, who nodded. Warm happiness bubbled inside her. “Yes.”
Cheers rang out from the small crowd, and Mandy couldn’t stop smiling as she moved the rocking chair back to its original spot.
“Thanks, Miss Mandy.” Nathan hugged her leg then sprinted off to play with the others.
Heart light, Mandy returned to Dr. Scofield again. “I got the job?”
“You did.” He shook her hand. “And the place is still standing. Impressive.”
“I knew she’d survive.” Brenda winked at her. “Nathan have any accidents?”
“One,” Mandy said. “But I cleaned it up.”
“Thanks.” Brenda got to work behind her desk. “I owe you one.”
Dr. Scofield set his pad and pen aside and got up. “Need to get the room ready for the drama therapist next.”
“I can help.” Mandy joined him in pushing everything to the sides of the room to leave the mat empty. “What’s drama therapy?”
“Uses role play, voice work, movement, and storytelling to help the kids work out their personal and social problems,” Dr. Scofield said. “A friend of mine, Joseph Langer comes down from Chicago every other week to do the sessions for us. You’re welcome to stay and watch, if you want. The results are fascinating.”
“Oh, I wish I could, but I need to get home. We’re doing renovations.”
A few weeks ago, calling that house “home” would’ve tripped her up, but for some reason it didn’t bother her today. Same as the thought of seeing Alex filled her with a rush of excitement instead of dread. Weird, but true. Honestly, she couldn’t wait to tell him all about this afternoon. “Maybe next time?”
“Sure,” Dr. Scofield said. “Whenever you like.”
“Great.” She grabbed her purse and headed out the door, stopping to say goodbye to Brenda. “When’s my first shift?”
“Tuesday afternoon work for you?” Brenda asked.
“Yep. I’ll be here. Thanks. Have a good weekend.” She waved then headed out into the afternoon sunshine, her steps lighter than they’d been in months. Maybe her mom was right. Maybe better things were just around the corner. Certainly seemed like it today, anyway. As she walked back toward the house, she calculated things in her head. Between her tips from the diner and what she made at the Playground, plus her modest savings and what she’d earn if she took the part in Bud’s movie, she should have enough to get started in Hollywood.
She crossed at the light and headed down Concord Lane, an odd tug in her chest.
Hollywood means leaving Alex behind.
Mandy sighed and shook it off. They weren’t involved or anything. Yes, dinner at Chez Maize had been nice. So had their impromptu movie night where they’d both gotten drunk and nearly kissed. But it was just fun. Just a diversion until the house was done and this whole situation was over.
Isn’t it?
Distracted, she made it back to the house on autopilot, her emotions snarling into a big old conflicted knot. She let herself in, then headed upstairs to change clothes and feed Duckie before going in search of the man foremost in her thoughts these days. “Hey, Alex. Where are you?”
“Basement,” he called through the doorway in the hall. “Grabbing some stain for the railing upstairs. The groceries you ordered were delivered earlier. I put it all in the fridge.”
“Great, thanks.” Now that the new, matching stainless-steel appliances were in place, it looked like a proper chef’s kitchen. Mandy was no Gordon Ramsey, but she liked to cook. Tonight, she planned to make them some good old-fashioned comfort food. The black and white tile floor gleamed beneath her stockinged feet as she pulled out the stuff she needed and put it all on the counter then set the oven to preheat.
While she scrubbed a couple of potatoes in the sink for baking, Alex tromped up the creaky basement stairs, stain cans in hand, and put them in the hallway.
“What are we having?” he asked, returning to the kitchen.
“Parmesan-crusted baked chicken and potatoes.”
“Yum.” He grabbed a can of soda from the fridge. “The HVAC guy called to let me know the new boiler should be delivered tomorrow.”
“Awesome.” Mandy dried the potatoes and her hands, smiling at Alex over her shoulder. The easy domesticity between them now seemed cozy and…right.
Tha
t thought stopped her short.
She got two bowls from the cupboard, filling one with olive oil and minced garlic and the other with a mix of breadcrumbs and parmesan cheese, her throat tight and her chest aching. Getting too attached would only lead to heartache. She knew better. She’d been down that road too many times as a kid, caring too much only to have it all taken away. This was exactly why she couldn’t get too involved with Alex or this house. They’d both be gone once she went to California.
Trouble was, she already cared for him way more than she’d ever intended.
His too-perceptive stare prickled the side of her face, and heat rose in its wake.
“Everything okay?” he asked, his tone concerned.
“Fine.” She scrambled for an excuse. “Just tired, I guess. With the audition and all.”
“How’d that go?” He took a seat at the table. “Did you like it?”
“I did, actually. Way more than I expected.” Grateful for the change in topic, she slathered the potatoes in olive oil and salt and pepper then wrapped them each in aluminum foil before setting them aside and facing him at last. “The kids were a handful, but fun. And I got the job, they liked me.”
“That’s great!” He reached over to open a nearby drawer, pulling out a small box. “I guess you can consider this a congratulations gift then.”
“What?” Mandy frowned. “You bought me something?”
He rubbed the back of his neck and blushed, his words stumbling. “Uh, yeah. I mean, it’s not a big deal or anything. I just, um, saw it online the other day and it made me think of Duckie and…well…here.”
He held the plain brown box out to her, avoiding her gaze. Fingertips tingling, she opened it to find a small plastic palm tree and her heart collapsed in on itself at the sweetness. “Aw. It’s so cute. Is it for his tank?”
Worth the Wait Page 10