LATE MONDAY AFTERNOON, Susan exited the grocery store and glared at the flier adorning her car’s windshield.
NO WATER FOR BIG BUSINESS
DON’T BE FORCED TO PAY HUGE FOR WATER
SAVE THE ENVIRONMENT FOR YOUR CHILDREN AND GRANDCHILDREN
Not cleverly written, but it would ensure people would think the water issue was entirely to support the paper mill, and that any project would cost residents a fortune. As for leaving it on her car? That was just plain tactless. It was possible that whoever had put it there didn’t know it was her vehicle, but it still felt like a personal slap in the face.
Susan grabbed the paper and ripped it into tiny shreds. She was tempted to let them fly around the Handy Spandy parking lot, but she actually did care about the environment, no matter what her jackass of a husband thought. So she wadded up the paper and tucked it into the trash sack she kept in the car. She’d put it into the recycle bin at home.
Home.
A wave of sadness swept through her. The house didn’t feel like home right now, just a bunch of silent rooms where she turned on the television to fill up the empty spaces with some sort of noise. Even when she was trying to sleep, she kept the radio or TV playing low—anything to distract her brain from cycling the same things over and over again.
Her cell phone rang...with the ringtone she’d programmed years ago for Chris. Was he calling to say he was sorry?
Snatching the phone, she punched the button. “Hello,” she said cautiously.
“It’s me.”
“Yeah.”
“I just want to know if you’ve told Evan about us.”
She almost threw the phone across the parking lot, but stopped herself in time. “No.”
“Okay. Because I wasn’t going to say anything, either. Let him get well started in his schoolwork without being distracted.”
“That’s what I thought, but it’s taking a risk. One of his friends might tell him.”
“Yeah, but his closest buddies are attending other colleges or have joined the service, so they’re probably too busy to talk. And since he can’t get away for Thanksgiving after all, he might not have to hear anything for a while.”
Evan had texted a few days before that his boss wanted him to work on the holiday. Susan had felt worse than ever.
“I hope so.” She clenched her fingers. Obviously Chris didn’t think he was moving back in the foreseeable future. And except for the City Council meeting, they’d barely spoken since he’d packed a bag in a huff and walked out—how did you fix a marriage if you didn’t talk?
“Okay, that’s all I needed to know,” Chris said.
She didn’t say goodbye, just punched the off button.
Poor Evan.
She had believed they’d provided a stable background, showing him a good model of a healthy relationship. How were they going to face him with this kind of news? Of course...she and Chris weren’t actually divorced. They hadn’t even filed for a legal separation, or whatever couples did when their marriage was in that much trouble. It was possible things could still work out, and at least they were on the same page about Evan, wanting his first months in university to be carefree...which they wouldn’t be if he heard his parents’ marriage could be on the rocks.
Suddenly she couldn’t stand the thought of eating alone. Grabbing her cell phone again, she called Mandy’s office, hoping she hadn’t left for the day.
“Hi,” she said. “It’s me, Susan. Sorry about missing dinner on Saturday. How would you like to go out to eat tonight?”
Mandy paused only a second. “Sure. We talked about trying that new place in Vicksville. But there’s still some soup left from Saturday if you’d rather go back to my place.”
“No, let’s go out. I’ll come by and pick you up.”
“Sounds good. Just give me a half hour to finish the newsletter.”
“I’ll see you then.”
Susan took her groceries home and unpacked them, relieved she wouldn’t have to pretend that she didn’t mind cooking for one. Then she drove back to City Hall.
Mandy was waiting for her and slid into the passenger seat. “How have you been?”
“Nothing’s changed. Chris called earlier, but he just wanted to be sure I hadn’t said anything to Evan. We agreed we don’t want him to be distracted from his studies.”
“Agreeing about something is a good step, isn’t it?”
“I guess so.”
“Chris loves you. That doesn’t change just because of an argument.”
Susan prayed Mandy was right. She still loved her husband, even if he was acting like an ass.
“I hope he does,” she answered slowly. “But people who love each other can still mess up.”
“I know, but don’t decide it’s over. I mean, don’t make any self-fulfilling prophecies. Chris is as miserable as you are, and that has to tell you something.”
“Have you talked to him?”
“I saw him at the post office this morning. He’s lost weight and his eyes are really sad. That is, when he isn’t talking about...oh, never mind.”
It wasn’t hard to guess what Mandy hadn’t finished saying, that Chris was angry instead of sad when he launched into his rhetoric about the reservoir.
Susan felt bad about leaning so much on her friend, but until Mandy had moved to town, it hadn’t been easy having friendships in Willow’s Eve—perhaps that’s why they’d become close so quickly. Since her father was the town’s major employer, even as a kid she had felt isolated. She’d wanted to leave and make a life in a place where she wasn’t Joe Jensen’s daughter—until she’d met Chris Russell and fallen in love with a guy who was staying.
“Let’s not talk about it, for a while,” she suggested. “We could pretend there’s nothing more important to discuss than chocolate pie recipes.”
“Whatever works for you.”
* * *
MANDY WAS GLAD she’d had an evening with Susan, even if they’d stayed out late, going to the last show at the movie theater. Still, because of the lack of sleep, she was dragging the next afternoon during her meeting with Daniel in his office.
“But you don’t understand what I’m saying,” Mandy told him, tapping a pencil on her notebook, where she’d written out various questions and concerns. “No one has raised the issue of water for years. That makes it hard for people to understand why there’s suddenly a problem.”
“It should have been raised,” Daniel insisted. “I’ve seen the reports on how low the reservoir gets in a dry year. And there’s also a water-quality issue when the reservoir is close to bottoming out.”
Mandy wrinkled her nose. “Maybe that explains why the stuff tastes bad sometimes, even when I use a water filter.”
Daniel made a notation in his file. “That could be a point we can use to help people understand the need.”
“I’m not looking for ways to convince people to support a water project, and don’t you dare suggest I am.”
“That isn’t what I said.”
“It’s what you meant,” Mandy countered. “I think you only want people to understand something when you also want them to support it, or not to be in opposition.”
Mandy gulped the last of her coffee. She and Daniel had been sparring for an hour, and they hadn’t come close to covering everything on her list.
“Do you really think that nothing should be done?” he asked.
“Not exactly, but—”
Daniel’s smartphone rang. He glanced at the display and shifted uncomfortably, yet made no move to answer it.
“Go ahead,” she told him. “I need to run back to my office for a minute.” Since it was his cell, she figured it might be personal. And after all, they were working after regular work hours.
At her coffeemaker, she refilled her cup and loaded it with cream and sugar. Sometimes she took it black, but right now she needed something to cushion her acid stomach. It was close to six and there was no one else in the building. Perhaps she should suggest they pick this up another time. He had a daughter at home, and Joyce shouldn’t have to wait to serve supper.
Daniel’s raised voice suddenly made its way down the hallway. Wincing, Mandy couldn’t avoid catching every word.
“Damn it, Celia, you promised her....Don’t you want to see where your own daughter is now living?...No, I don’t....I didn’t say he couldn’t come....It’s her birthday. Can’t you make that much effort?...Hell...Be sure of it.” His voice became sarcastic. “It’s the least you can do, and I mean that literally.”
Mandy swallowed.
Not sure what she should do, she picked up her mug and walked slowly back to Daniel’s office. He was standing, looking at the picture of his daughter, which he’d put in a central place along the polished wall of shelves.
“You heard that, didn’t you?” he muttered.
“Yeah, but I was trying not to listen.”
“It was thoughtful of you to step out. Losing control was my own fault.”
She regarded him with unwilling sympathy, certain he wasn’t the sort of man who easily admitted that he could lose control.
“I don’t understand,” he murmured distractedly. “I just don’t get it. How can a mother care so little about her own child?”
“There’s no guarantee a woman will have the mothering instinct, but it must be rough on Samantha.”
“It is. Celia told Samantha that she’d come to help celebrate her birthday, but now she’s just sending a gift, which I suspect will arrive late, if at all. I don’t know how to explain it to my daughter.”
Poor kid.
Mandy hardly knew what to say. In fact, there wasn’t anything to say. Words couldn’t make it better. Even if she was part of the family—Samantha’s aunt or something—she wouldn’t be able to fix it. Mandy’s stomach turned over. It always felt as if she ought to be able to take care of things for people and she felt rotten when she couldn’t.
“I didn’t push Celia to have a baby,” Daniel continued, almost to himself. “I wanted a child and she seemed to feel the same. But the older Samantha got, the less interest Celia seemed to have in her. Instead, Celia focused on her looks and designer clothing and what the ‘beautiful people’ are doing.”
Mandy had experience with a disinterested mother. In her own way, Elenora Colson had lost interest in Mandy as it became more and more apparent that her daughter wasn’t going to be a scientist or professor. Mandy had done well in school—she just didn’t want to live in the rarified academic world her parents enjoyed.
“Was Samantha the kind of daughter your wife thought she’d have?” she asked. “If she isn’t, then Celia might have trouble connecting because of it.”
He sighed heavily. “I suppose it’s that as much as anything. Samantha isn’t like her mother. She loves to read and draw, and she doesn’t care much about clothing or how her hair is done. Well, except she does enjoy the Disney princesses.”
“Princesses have a perennial fascination for a lot of little girls, including tomboys. Um, I know it’s none of my business, but has Samantha always been so timid?”
Daniel sighed. “Yes. I’m not sure why. I’m not even sure I can blame it on Celia’s lack of interest.”
The clock in the City Hall tower began chiming the hour.
Daniel cocked his head. “At first I wasn’t sure I appreciated having the clock ringing the Westminster chimes every hour, but I’m beginning to appreciate it.”
“I like it, too,” Mandy agreed, guessing he didn’t want to discuss his family any longer. He was probably already kicking himself for saying so much; he seemed to guard his privacy. “But I grew up with the Westminster chimes, so I’m used to them. My folks had a wonderful old Swiss mantel clock and if it didn’t ring within half a minute of the university’s tower clock, they rushed it into the repair shop.”
Daniel chuckled. “Didn’t it occur to them that the university’s clock might be off, instead of theirs?”
“Apparently not, but I guess you have to have faith in something.”
He nodded and gestured toward the papers on his desk. “Do you want to continue this now, or wait for another day?”
“It doesn’t matter to me. Mr. Spock doesn’t care when I come home. Actually, I take that back. Cats are stalwart creatures of habit, but I haven’t obliged, much to his displeasure. You’re the one with family.”
“It’s a moot point tonight. Joyce took Samantha into Vicksville to find some things she needs for school, and they’re eating there. Why don’t I order a pizza?”
“Sure. Make half of it a Mandy’s Special.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Mandy laughed. “That’s what they call it down at the pizza parlor. It isn’t on the menu, but it’s what I usually order. Chicken, bacon, mushrooms, olives and artichoke hearts, with extra sauce.”
“That sounds good. We’ll make the whole pizza a ‘Mandy’s Special.’”
A short while later, Mandy saw the sign on Shawn’s car and ran out to meet him.
“Here’s your change,” she said, coming back and dropping a handful of bills and coins on Daniel’s desk.
He frowned. “I shouldn’t get that much change.”
“I paid for half. Hope you don’t mind that I tipped generously. Shawn’s father is a pastor, and his family can’t contribute much toward sending him through college, so he’s saving like mad.”
“That’s fine, but I planned to pay for all of it.”
“Coworkers are supposed to go Dutch.” Mandy opened the box and pulled out a steaming slice. “Mmm,” she breathed. “I haven’t ordered one of these for weeks.”
* * *
DANIEL LET OUT a breath. Hindsight was a hundred percent, and he was coming to the conclusion that having dinner with Mandy may have been a bad idea. Which didn’t make sense. He’d eaten dozens of pizzas with coworkers over the years—working lunches or dinners weren’t uncommon in high-pressure periods.
Mandy shouldn’t be any different...except she was different. And Willow’s Eve wasn’t the same as a big city. Perhaps he should consider changing his approach to the job. Mandy had tried to suggest it the first day they’d met, and a few other times, as well. But while it was something to think about, he had no intention of abandoning his professionalism to emulate her carefree manner.
Picking up a piece of “Mandy’s Special,” he took a bite and chewed appreciatively. It was a good combination, though he probably wouldn’t have thought of it on his own. His usual choices were simple, plain cheese or pepperoni, because Samantha wasn’t adventurous.
He watched as Mandy sprinkled hot pepper flakes on the remainder of her slice.
“I see you enjoy burning your mouth,” he commented.
“Sure. I read something once, about how some people eat the so-called ‘dangerous’ foods. You know, basically stuff that in your culture are the last thing anyone would eat. Like frog’s legs for some people, sweetbreads or chocolate-covered grasshoppers, or maybe French-fried caterpillars. I couldn’t handle those, but hot peppers were a revelation for me once I got out on my own. The spiciest thing on my mom and dad’s table was the black pepper shaker, and the pepper in it was at least fifteen years old, so it was pretty wimpy.”
“That sounds similar to the way I grew up,” Daniel said, remembering the tasteless food from his childhood. At some point he’d realized it was a queer revenge on his father. “My mother wasn’t much of a cook.”
“My mother is fairly good in the kitchen, and my dad isn’t horrible, either. They simply don’t venture beyond the kind of thing you’d find on a table in Leave It to Beaver.”
“Meat, a starch of some type, a vegetable and salad?” Daniel guessed.
“Right. There was a trend when I was in high school to experiment with foods of other cultures, but my parents firmly resisted. After all, they wouldn’t want to be accused of succumbing to peer pressure.” Her eyes gleamed with laughter. In this light, they were a darker green, with glowing depths that hinted at mysteries.
Mandy ate two slices, then sat back in her chair and sighed. “That was good. Now I can concentrate better.”
They worked for another hour, but the items on Mandy’s list were still only partially covered.
“We can pick this up next week,” Daniel suggested. “Unfortunately, the issue will still be with us.”
“Yeah. You know, I feel as if I’m chasing a great white whale. I can’t stop, but catching it may be just as bad.”
“You’re a Moby Dick fan?”
“I majored in English lit and spent time with all the classics. My parents were pleased when I chose it, but that’s because they thought I’d get a doctorate and teach.”
“Otherwise, it’s an interesting area of study, but not very marketable?”
“You must have met my folks,” she replied with a grin. “You’ve got them pegged.”
He looked at the pizza on his desk and pushed it toward her. “Take that home. Samantha’s taste buds aren’t any more adventurous than your parents’ palates.”
“Tell you what, I’ll put it in the microfridge in my office so it’s available on Monday for snacks.”
* * *
MANDY TOOK THE pizza box into her office and pulled out a plastic ziplock bag to store the leftover slices. As she straightened and stepped back from the refrigerator, her foot rolled on something and she plopped onto the floor.
“Crap,” she muttered. “What a klutz.”
Daniel hurried through her door a second later and saw her sprawled on the wood flooring.
“I heard a loud thump. You okay?”
“Sure, just embarrassed by my two left feet. That’s why I’m not a runner. I’d probably fall down a rabbit hole like Alice in Wonderland. Then where would I be? The Queen of Hearts would be chopping off my head.” She groped under her sore rear end, found the pen that had started her foot on its sideways journey, and held it up. “Here’s the culprit. Let’s have it arrested for unauthorized loitering.”
Daniel extended an arm to help her upright, and Mandy gulped as she lurched against his muscular frame. Man, did she want to know how it felt to be held tight and be thoroughly kissed for once in her life. Her ex-husband didn’t count. He’d done everything in a restrained manner, as if he didn’t really approve of sex.
She stepped back and tried to smile, only to realize Daniel was looking at her in a way that wasn’t at all collegial. Suddenly, he pulled her close and bent down to press his lips against hers. Energy popped and she snuggled into an embrace that was as good as she’d imagined. His mouth was firm, while his hands began checking out her waist, then started for her breasts.
But a second later, Daniel released her so fast she nearly fell again. He stepped a few feet away.
Mandy swallowed. “Well,” she said as cheerfully as she could. “I’ve thought men and women who work closely should get kissing out of the way as soon as possible. Satisfying any curiosity takes the elephant out of the room.”
His eyebrow lifted and his breathing slowed. “That’s hardly a strategy taught in public administration or sexual ethics courses.”
“Naturally. Those are all about procedures and rules, not about real people.” Mandy felt uncomfortable about arguing the point because there were awfully good reasons for those particular rules, even if they didn’t apply in this case because Daniel hadn’t been harassing her.
“I wouldn’t say that,” he argued. “The rules, especially about this sort of thing, are intended to protect people on both sides.”
“Careful,” she warned, “you’re sounding stuffy again.”
He stiffened. “I don’t take this sort of thing lightly.”
“And I do?”
“I have no way of knowing. And in any case, it can’t happen again.”
Lord. Mandy rolled her eyes. “I agree, but now you’re laying down the law as if I’d suggested a nightly snuggle. That’s insulting. The under-forty single men in this town outnumber the under-forty single women, so it isn’t as if I haven’t had my share of offers.”
“That isn’t what I meant. Frankly, we aren’t compatible.”
Mandy gritted her teeth. “I don’t know where that came from. We were discussing sexual ethics, not compatibility. But it’s still something we can agree on. I explained to you weeks ago that I don’t want to get tied down. If you recall, I’m the one who brought the subject up in the first place, to make sure nobody got stupid ideas. But if you still need reassurances, I’m staying footloose and fancy-free. If I wanted to be married, I’d be married. I’m not cut out for settling down or doing the domestic thing, so you can just stuff those rules up your...” She stopped, realizing she was about to say something extremely rude.
Daniel stared, reminding her so much of a deer caught in the headlights that she wanted to kick him. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said that so bluntly. But I’m concerned. Samantha is already intrigued by you and Mr. Spock, and she doesn’t need to start thinking you’re going to become an important part of her life, only to have her heart broken when you move on again.”
“I understand. I don’t live the way you think I should, so I’m a terrible influence on children.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
Ha.
Men were skunks. Look at Chris. He’d walked out on his marriage because Susan didn’t agree with him the way he thought she should. Yet even as the thought crossed her mind, Mandy threw on the brakes. She wasn’t being fair to the male half of the human race and she was not taking sides in the Russells’ marital woes; she cared about them both, and their marriage was obviously in trouble because of a lot more than a water issue.
It was so damned depressing. And she couldn’t even do anything to help them.
“Let’s just drop it, okay?” Daniel said tiredly.
She shrugged. “Fine with me. I’m going home.”
In silence, she locked her office and walked out the north exit, glad she’d parked on the opposite side of the building from where Daniel had left his Jeep. When she got home, she turned on the baseball playoff game and tried not to relive those few moments in his arms.
It had answered one question, though. If Daniel had found her attractive enough tonight to let down his barriers and kiss her, he probably had gotten aroused during that one argument.
It didn’t change anything. And however annoying she’d found his comments about them being incompatible, she knew it was true. The fact that he was hot as blazes didn’t make him the right kind of man for her, and it didn’t make her the right kind of woman for him.
She needed someone who could accept her as she was and not try to change her. And that wasn’t likely to happen.
So that was that.