Until She Met Daniel (16 page)

“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?

* * *

D
ANIEL
 
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.”

* * *

“H
ELLO
, D
ADDY
,” S
AMANTHA
 
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.

S
USAN
 
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.

After they were seated at the restaurant, her father ordered a selection of appetizers while they perused their menus. Yet after a moment, Joe dropped his menu on the table and leaned forward.

“Susan, we need to talk. Your mother and I are concerned about you staying in that house by yourself.”

Obviously, the first course was going to be unpleasant.

Her mother's eyes pleaded for understanding. “Yes, honey, I know you've enjoyed being out in the country, but...er, now that you're living there alone, we worry about it.”

“I'm fine, Mom,” Susan told her.

“Well, I'm not fine with it,” Joe huffed. “A security company is scheduled to install a full system tomorrow morning.”

“No.”

“I won't have your mother tossing and turning another night because she's worried about your safety. It's bad for her blood pressure. Oh, and we're paying for the monitoring.”

Karen Jensen's face turned pink and she suddenly became intently occupied with refolding her linen napkin. Susan knew her mother would never contradict her husband in front of anyone. Equally, she recognized that her father was using emotional blackmail to get what he wanted.

“There's another option,” Joe said suddenly. “You could move back in with us.”

“Sorry, Dad,” Susan answered drily. “But I'm a grown woman and don't need to run home when I hit a rough spot in my life.”

Karen patted her hand. “I know you're hoping that you and Chris can still patch things up.”

“Waste of effort,” Joe contradicted. “There's no use hanging on to a losing proposition. It's been twenty years in the making, and about time, too. Now she can get on with her life.”

Groping in her purse, Susan found extrastrength aspirin and downed two tablets with the water the waiter had just delivered.

It was going to be a
very
long evening.

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

M
ANDY
 
SAT
 
ON
 
the floor and spun the Twister game's spinner. “Right hand, red,” she announced. “You're in trouble now, Amelia. Let's see you turn yourself into a pretzel.”

The red-haired girl grinned and tried to place her hand on the red spot. Suddenly, she slipped and the whole group of little girls collapsed in a pile of giggles.

Samantha's birthday party seemed to be a great success. Lunch had been homemade pizza, each girl dressing up her own circle of pizza dough with the desired toppings. Mandy had enjoyed watching Daniel's puzzlement as his daughter chose things he obviously didn't think she would like. Then Samantha had eaten her pizza with great enjoyment.

The living room was large enough they hadn't needed to move the furniture to make room to play Twister. Now the girls dispersed for hide-and-seek. The sound of counting came from outside the hall, with giggles and pounding feet from a distance. Mandy figured the house itself was half the fun, with nooks and crannies galore.

Two weeks ago, Mandy had been surprised when Daniel had asked her to the party. She'd almost said no, certain he wasn't happy about issuing the invitation—after all, he'd been quite clear he didn't want Samantha growing too fond of her. But she finally accepted when Joyce also urged her to come. Now she was glad she had.

The past ten days had been relatively calm. She still got hot and bothered around Daniel, but she kept reminding herself that while he might be sexy, he was also uptight and entirely too starched for her. She couldn't get serious about that type of guy, even if
he
had any interest in getting serious with her, which he didn't.

“What other adventures do you have planned?” Mandy asked Joyce as they put the Twister pieces back into the box.

“There are other games they can pick from, and I've got the kitchen table set up with pumpkins and markers so they can draw jack-o'-lanterns.”

The doorbell rang and Daniel motioned for Joyce to stay put. “I'll get it.”

“I also have all sorts of bits and pieces,” Joyce continued. “I thought the girls could create their own costumes, everything from monsters to princesses.”

“Sounds fun,” Mandy enthused. “Makes me wish I was that age again.”

She was enjoying Joyce, who often came early to the center and visited. In addition to the party, she'd asked Mandy to Thanksgiving dinner, saying she had also invited the Parsons, whose children couldn't get home that year for the holiday. Despite a few misgivings, Mandy had accepted, offering to bring rolls and mashed potatoes for the meal.

“Where is Samantha?” asked a female voice.

Mandy glanced up and saw Daniel standing next to a woman dressed in designer jeans and a silk shirt that must have come straight from Rodeo Drive. It didn't take a genius to realize that Samantha's mother had decided to come after all.

“Samantha is playing hide-and-seek with her friends,” Joyce said, getting up and hurrying to her daughter's side. Mandy winced inwardly as Joyce pulled her daughter into an awkward hug. “I'm so glad you made it, honey.”

“Well, I...after you called, I thought it over again. And Dirk suggested...that is, agreed we should come.”

Only then did Mandy realize that a second man was standing behind Daniel and his ex-wife. He was of medium height, in his early forties, and appeared nervous. He was good-looking, too, though not a patch on Daniel.

Celia looked down at Mandy, still sitting on the floor. “Hello,” she said.

“This is one of our new friends in Willow's Eve,” Joyce explained. “She's the director of the Senior Center, and also our next-door neighbor. Mandy, this is my daughter, Celia, and her husband, Dirk Bowlin.”

“Hi,” Mandy greeted them. “Nice to meet you.”

“Mmm, yes.”

Celia was beautiful, with flawless skin, perfect makeup and elegantly casual clothing...exactly the sort of woman Mandy would have expected Daniel to have as a wife. Polished and perfect.

So, this was the type of woman Daniel preferred.

Time to be philosophical. After all, it wasn't as if she hadn't already known he liked something entirely different from Mandy Colson.

* * *

D
ANIEL
 
EXCUSED
 
HIMSELF
 
and went up the stairs, calling Samantha's name. She tumbled out of a cupboard and whispered, “Yes, Daddy?”

“Your mama was able to come after all,” he said quietly. “She's downstairs.”

Samantha's face lit up and she ran for the stairs. Daniel followed her down and watched as she burst into the living room.

“Hi, Mommy.”

It was almost painful to see that, despite her headlong rush, Samantha wasn't sure how to greet her mother. Finally, Celia held her arms out for a clumsy hug.

“Happy birthday.”

“Yes, happy birthday, kiddo,” Dirk echoed. “Here, we brought you a gift.”

He held out a small package and Samantha opened it to find a jewelry box. It held a necklace with a flower pendant.

“That's fourteen-karat gold and a real diamond,” Dirk told her. “We picked it out a month ago because we wanted just the right thing.”

“Thank you, Mr. Dirk.”

“And I brought you this.” Celia handed her a rectangular package. Samantha pulled off the wrapping paper to find a book.

“I wasn't sure what you'd prefer,” Celia continued, glancing at Joyce. “But the man at the bookstore thought you'd enjoy it.”

“I like it, Mommy. I don't have this one. Do you want to see my room?” Samantha asked.

“Sure. We can put your book away and I'll help with your new necklace.”

Celia followed her daughter up the stairs and out of sight.

Dirk remained behind. “I, uh, it's good to see you again, Daniel,” he said. “We miss you at City Hall.”

“Really? I was under the impression you preferred me to leave.” There was a dry edge to Daniel's voice.

“With Celia and me getting together, it really wouldn't have worked for you to stay, and you obviously landed on your feet. What a magnificent house, practically a mansion.”

“Willow's Eve has been generous,” Daniel told him. “Not all city administrations treat their employees as well.”

Since Dirk wasn't stupid, Daniel was sure the dig hit the target. But the man wasn't playing dead dog; he threw back his shoulders and asked, “You knew we'd gotten married?”

“Joyce passed the word on.”

“Oh. Isn't it strange to have your ex's mother living with you?”

“I'm here to help with my granddaughter,” Joyce inserted into the conversation.

“Yes, naturally. It's simply an unusual arrangement.”

“I don't think it's unusual for a woman to spend time with her grandchild. And I also don't believe it's unusual for a woman to work out a good arrangement with her former son-in-law.”

Joyce's voice was mild, no doubt remembering that Dirk Bowlin was now her
current
son-in-law.

Nevertheless, Daniel's head was reeling. Though Celia had phoned to say she might reconsider coming to Northern California, he hadn't actually expected her to arrive. For that reason, he'd said nothing to Samantha, figuring it was best to be pleasantly surprised, rather than getting her hopes dashed again. Especially on her birthday.

With fingers of tension creeping over the back of his head, Daniel glanced at Mandy, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, obviously trying to act as if everything was normal. Or maybe it
was
normal for her. She'd mentioned that her ex-husband got along great with her parents, so she was probably used to these situations, minus a kid being involved.

As Mandy stretched and rose gracefully, he looked away, trying to appear casual. He'd rather not have Celia or Dirk figuring out that he was attracted to a coworker.

After fifteen minutes, Celia came back down the stairs. “I suggested that Samantha continue the game with her friends,” she explained. “It's the courteous thing since they're party guests.”

It might not be fair to his ex-wife, but Daniel thought she appeared relieved to have an excuse not to spend too much time with her daughter.

One of the girls—Daniel thought it was the one named Kelly—rushed in to ask Mandy to join the next round of hide-and-seek. Mandy enthusiastically went into the hallway to start counting while the girls shrieked and scattered to hide.

“Samantha must be making friends now,” Celia commented.

“Quite a few. Willow's Eve has been good for her,” Daniel said.

“I'm glad.” She turned to Dirk. “Sweetheart, after that drive from the airport, I'd like some fresh air. Perhaps we could look at the yard. Is that all right, Daniel?”

“Of course.”

“I'm glad she came,” Joyce murmured once they were alone again. “We talked a few days ago and I told her how happy it would make Samantha. I didn't know what else to say.”

“It's important to Samantha that she's here.”

“Yes.”

They fell silent as Celia returned and sank onto the sofa. Her face had turned pale.

“Are you all right?” Joyce asked, hurrying to her side.

“Yes, it's just...all-day morning sickness.” Letting out a small humorless laugh, Celia lifted her head and looked at Daniel's shocked face. “Dirk and I are expecting.”

“Oh.” Daniel didn't know how an ex-husband was supposed to respond to that sort of news. “Congratulations.”

Celia's lips twisted. “Don't say it, Daniel. Don't say I'll be a miserable mother to yet another child. I don't need to hear it.”

“I wasn't going to say anything of the kind.”

“But that's what you were thinking.”

“Honey,” Joyce said. “I—”

Celia suddenly lunged up and left the room. Joyce murmured an excuse and followed.

Daniel's scrambled thoughts were interrupted by the thunder of feet as Samantha and her friends came tearing downstairs, game apparently over, and into the kitchen.

“Come make a jack-o'-lantern, Daddy,” Samantha called.

He joined them, choosing a lopsided pumpkin for his own efforts. The girls were soon busy creating faces on their pumpkins using the special, nontoxic markers Joyce had gotten for the purpose. Daniel's tensions eased as he saw Samantha interacting easily with her guests.

Mandy was laughing along with the other girls, delighting them as she painted a cat resembling Mr. Spock on her pumpkin.

She was great with kids, which wasn't surprising, and Daniel stirred uneasily. He was still worried about Samantha getting too fond of a woman with itchy feet. On the other hand, his daughter was making other friends in town, and there was always the potential of a goodbye with anyone you knew. Hell, he wasn't expecting to stay in Willow's Eve. At some point, it would be him taking Samantha away from the friends she'd made.

The greatest danger would be Samantha getting the wrong idea about Mandy. She lived next door, she had a cat that wandered back and forth between the two houses, and she had a natural charm that appealed to youngsters. He would just have to be careful.

Once the pumpkins were done, Mandy went outdoors with the girls to play another game.

Daniel watched from the kitchen window, then turned when he heard footsteps. It was Celia. She pulled a bottle of soda water from the refrigerator, filled a glass and took a few sips. “Mother told me you had some, and it helps with the nausea,” she explained. “You seem to have made new friends here in Willow's Eve fairly quickly. Mandy, for instance. It seems strange to see an adult invited to a child's birthday party.”

Seeing curiosity in Celia's eyes, Daniel shrugged casually. “Mandy has a cat that comes over to visit, which seems to have made her instant friends with Samantha. How was your trip, by the way?” he asked, hoping to change the subject. “I know the connections can be bad.”

“It was dreadful. We flew, then rented a car. And we have to go back tomorrow because Dirk has an election rally.”

He frowned. “That's a fast trip.”

“It's all we could manage. How are you and Mother getting along with your new arrangement?”

“All right on my part, though you'll have to ask Joyce how she feels. I'm just glad Samantha didn't have to go into child care.”

Celia nodded. “I'll need to talk to her about all of this. I mean, she'll have another grandchild before long.”

Daniel examined his ex-wife's face, wondering what she was trying to say. “Are you unhappy that Joyce moved to Willow's Eve?”

“I don't know. It's as if she chose you over me,” Celia said with surprising candor.

“It isn't a question of choosing between us. Your mother came so Samantha wouldn't have to go into a day care program.”

“I guess.” Celia drank more of the soda water, then pulled a mirror from her handbag to check her makeup. “To be honest, when I saw another woman here, I wondered if you were involved, though it isn't my business any longer.”

“Mandy is a coworker and neighbor.”

His ex-wife languidly waved her hand. “She's not
bad
-looking, I suppose, just unfashionable. And in such a tiny town, there probably aren't many choices.”

Daniel stared. “Are you trying to fix me up?”

“Well, I know we're divorced, but it's not as if I hate you or anything. I'd like to see you happily married again.”

He swallowed a snort. The thought of Celia being concerned for anyone except herself was ludicrous. “I'm doing fine single. With no plans to change my status. Why don't you go talk to Joyce and tell her your ideas about the new baby?”

Celia shrugged again and drifted out.