Until She Met Daniel (21 page)

“Mandy,” George said. “We've been talking about this, and we feel we shouldn't have supported your getting married so young. It's just that we believed it would help settle you.”

Elenora nodded. “You obviously needed time to grow up and see some of the world. But now you've done that, and Vince told us recently he's still interested in making your marriage work.”

Mandy's mouth dropped as she tried to think of what she could say. “Vince and I don't
have
a marriage. We're divorced,” she said finally. “Is that the real reason you came to California?”

“He's willing to forget the past,” George told her.

Mandy wanted to gag. “Wow, that's tolerant of him. Noble, too.”

“Yes, it is, isn't it?” Elenora answered, patently oblivious to the sarcasm.

“And he's willing to overlook anything that's happened in the years you've been gone.” Her father didn't sound as if he completely approved of Vince's “tolerance.”

Mandy shook her head. “Sorry, I can't do it, but tell Vince I'll never forget that he sent my parents to woo me.”

The Colsons both appeared uncomfortable. “He would have come himself,” George told her. “But we convinced him to let us speak with you.”

“And we wanted to see you for the holiday, of course,” Elenora added hastily, obviously thinking it was the correct thing to say...and she always tried to say the right thing, though the way she said it and her timing were often wanting.

The town clock chimed eleven. “It's time to head over to the Whittiers',” Mandy exclaimed in relief, jumping to her feet. “It's just next door.”

She pulled the food she was bringing from the refrigerator, put it in a box and placed the blackberry and the chocolate cream pies on top. The yeast rolls were in a bag hanging from her arm.

“Good heavens,” her father exclaimed as they walked toward the massive Victorian. “What sort of place is this?”

“The city is providing it to the city manager as part of his pay package. A man named Oscar Bertram willed it to the town after his grandson said he would eat worms before he'd live here.”

Her father stared as if
she'd
been caught munching worms. Mandy nodded at the doorbell, but he didn't understand, so she pushed it with her elbow, since her hands were occupied with the box of food.

Joyce greeted them warmly and eyed the pies on top of the box. “Dear me, you didn't need to bring anything extra, but those look wonderful.” She looked at Mandy's mother and father. “You must be the Colsons. I'm so glad you could come.”

“Mom and Dad, this is Joyce Baker. Joyce, my parents, George and Elenora Colson,” Mandy introduced.

She ran the box quickly into the kitchen, then returned to the living room to continue introductions. “Mom and Dad, this is Daniel Whittier and his daughter, Samantha, Jane Cutman, Lou Ella and Harold Parsons.”

Samantha dashed over to give her a hug. “Happy Thanksgiving, Mandy.”

“Happy Thanksgiving to you, too.”

“We are very sorry to come empty-handed, Mrs. Baker,” Elenora said primly. “If Mandy had told us ahead of time that we were eating here today, we would have brought a hostess gift.”

“I called and put a message on your voice mail, Mom.”

“I see. We had probably left for the airport.”

“Then you must have left less than an hour after telling me you were coming for the holiday,” Mandy returned instantly, unable to resist reminding her parents that they hadn't given
her
advance notice they were coming. Didn't that constitute rude and boorish behavior in their code of proper etiquette?

“Er...it's nice you could spend the holiday with your daughter,” Lou Ella threw into the conversation.

“She rarely comes back to see us in Connecticut, so we decided this was the only way,” George intoned.

“I usually don't get much time off at the holidays,” Mandy reminded him.

“If you kept a job for longer, you'd have seniority to
get
the time.”

Mandy could feel the puzzled glances of Jane and the Parsons. After all, she hadn't asked if she could have any time off, and the seniors would surely have given it to her. Joyce returned from the kitchen, bringing out hors d'oeuvres.

“George and Elenora—” Daniel stood and put a tray on the table in front of them “—please, help yourselves.”

“How gracious of you, Mr. Whittier.” Elenora barely glanced at the appetizers. “We understand you work with our daughter at City Hall.”

“Alongside her,” Daniel corrected with a smile. “The senior program runs independently of City Hall administration, though Mandy and I are cooperating on a community project.”

“Oh, yes,” Jane said. “It's all about our water supply and whether we should have a sewage treatment plant.”

Elenora looked taken aback. “Sewage?” she repeated. Mandy almost snickered. Her parents generally ignored anything to do with the actual realities of life. They expected disgusting stuff to flow away from their pristine house and didn't worry about what happened to it afterward.

“It's kind of controversial,” Mandy said.

“Indeed, yes.” Lou Ella looked guiltily at Mandy. “I suppose I shouldn't have said anything. I mean, mealtime rules and that sort of thing?”

Mandy laughed. “I can only hope everyone applies that rule outside the Senior Center. Otherwise, Thanksgiving dinner is going to blast off a barrelful of indigestion.”

“Blast off a barrelful?” George said with a raised eyebrow.

“Sure, Dad,” Mandy agreed. “There is nothing like mixing images and similes to have fun.”

His lips pressed together.

Mandy shrugged and ignored him, sliding down on the floor to sit next to Samantha. Joyce had tried inviting one of the families of Samantha's friends, but they'd all had plans with relatives. That left no one who was Sam's age. They started a game together and Mandy was able to pretend her parents weren't there for a while.

After the game was completed, she got to her feet. “I'll be in the kitchen. I forgot something I was going to tell Joyce.”

“Ask her if there's anything we can do to help,” Jane urged.

“Sure thing.”

Hurrying into the kitchen, Mandy spotted Joyce peering into a large pot on the stove.

“Save me, Joyce,” Mandy said. “Give me a job to do. In here, not out there.”

“Excuse me?”

“That's exactly what I want, an excuse not to go back into the living room for a little while.”

Cocking her head, Joyce regarded her sympathetically. “I gather that you and your parents aren't any closer than I am with Celia.”

Mandy winced. “Sorry, I didn't mean to dredge up negative vibes.”

“You didn't. I was thinking about her when you came in.”

“You haven't said if there is something I can do to help in here. And Jane wanted to know if she and Lou Ella could do anything, too.”

“I'm afraid everything is in good shape. But we'll start serving soon and I can use some help then.”

Reluctantly, Mandy forced her feet back toward the living room.

* * *

D
ANIEL
 
ATE
 
HIS
 
last bite of pumpkin pie and glanced around the table. The dinner guests seemed to be in a congenial mood, though it was hard to evaluate the Colsons, who were painfully polite. Of course, they might feel awkward since they didn't know anyone except their daughter.

No wonder Mandy was tense.

He'd been painfully aware of her all day. Who was he kidding? He was aware of her all the time, even when she wasn't around.

“When do you fly home?” Lou Ella asked Elenora.

“This evening,” she answered.

“So soon?” Mandy asked. Daniel thought her face reflected a mixture of emotions—surprise, relief, chagrin...or it might be his imagination.

“There is a faculty gathering tomorrow we can't miss,” George said. He looked at Lou Ella. “It wasn't convenient to fly to California for such a short time, but it appeared this was the only way we'd be able to see Mandy. She's chosen to live so far away and doesn't visit very often.”

“I suppose that's how it is,” Joyce said. “Families get spread out and it's hard to stay close.”

George neatly folded his napkin. “Our twin sons visit.”

“They have also chosen to live nearby,” Elenora added.

“That's nice when it's possible,” Jane commented. “My eldest son is only about ten miles away, but my other son and his wife are back in Rhode Island.”

“Why aren't you spending the holiday with the son who lives locally?” Elenora asked.

“He's with his in-laws this year. Ariel's folks have always welcomed me to come along, but when Joyce invited me here, I thought I'd enjoy the holiday with my old and new friends.”

“We're glad you did,” Daniel said.

When Joyce had told him yesterday that the Colsons would be joining them, he'd thought it would be interesting—it turned out that “interesting” was an understatement. What an eye-opener. He might have reservations about Mandy's lifestyle—and especially about letting someone like her close to his daughter—but didn't the Colsons ever let up? Their criticisms were barely subtle.
And in front of her friends.
They plainly disapproved of their daughter and had complained more than once that she lived too far away and didn't see them often.

Ha.

The way they acted, he wouldn't go see them, either. He felt the same way about visiting his own parents to view the latest damage in their domestic conflict—it was best to stay out of their line of fire. As the target of the Colsons' censure, no doubt Mandy thought the same.

“More pie?” Joyce asked.

There were several nods while Samantha chirped, “Chocolate, please, Mandy.”

Cripes, the Colsons were now staring with disapproval at the only child at the table. Honestly, were they from the eighteenth century, thinking kids should be “seen and not heard”?

How ironic. He was
thankful
Samantha had started becoming more forthright and speaking up for herself.

Mandy smiled and put a piece of chocolate cream pie on a plate. With a wink at Samantha, she squirted a nice mound of whipped cream on top, bringing his daughter's face to blissful anticipation.

“Mandy, do you
really
think that much whipped cream is a good idea for a child?” George asked.

Samantha instantly looked crushed, while Mandy bit her lip. When Daniel met Joyce's gaze for an instant, he saw the same distaste for the Colsons that he felt himself.

“Samantha's dessert is my business, Mr. Colson,” he said crisply. “Mandy, there are some spots you missed on that piece of pie. Better put on more whipped cream. It's Thanksgiving, after all.”

A dull red crept up George's neck. “I'm terribly...that is, I shouldn't have—”

“I'll take a slice of your blackberry pie with plenty of whipped cream, too,” Jane interrupted, her eyes chilly as she looked at the Colsons.

Mandy's tight expression eased as the Parsons chimed in with requests for pumpkin pie, including lots of cream. She served herself a slice of Lou Ella's apple-cranberry pie and sprayed a large amount on her plate, as well. But the Colsons weren't watching. They'd focused their attention on their coffee cups.

A warm sensation went through Daniel. He barely knew Jane and the Parsons, yet in their own way, they were showing Samantha and Mandy their support. He'd had reservations about living in such a small town, but there
were
benefits.

He glanced at Mandy. Lord, the Colsons seemed blind to their daughter's good qualities, ignoring the fact she was charming, intelligent and genuinely cared about people. All they could see was the fact she didn't live in the conventional way they had decided was the proper lifestyle.

The realization was embarrassing because he'd originally been critical of it himself. But while it was true she was a poor candidate for a long-term relationship—especially for a man with a young child—at least he'd learned to appreciate her.

Daniel went into the kitchen to collect more coffee, insisting Joyce stay put. By his calculations, she'd walked several miles that morning putting the meal together, though the guests had brought side dishes and desserts to help. Mandy had brought some delicious rolls, mashed potatoes and her pies. Delicious pies, too—he'd eaten a sliver of each offering. Now he was uncomfortably full. It would take miles of extra running to even it out.

Light footsteps sounded behind him and he swung around to see Mandy carrying a stack of dinner plates to the sink.

“I told Joyce I'd handle the cleanup,” she said.

“Coward,” he murmured.

Mandy cocked her head. “What do you mean?”

“Well, maybe you're smart, instead. Only an idiot voluntarily sticks around when they're being insulted.”

She blinked before her lips quirked into a grin. “I thought you'd approve of my parents.”

“How dare you suggest such a thing?” Daniel shot back in a mock-injured tone. “I have much better taste than that.”

Her eyebrows lifted in a way he found...provocative. “Better taste?”

He cast a quick glance at the door. In the distance, there was the murmur of voices. Samantha's laugh sounded.

Reaching out, he tugged Mandy close and bent down to taste her rosy lips; his heart pumping at the feel of their soft warmth, He pressed harder, opening his mouth to share her breath. Daniel slid his right hand lower, cupping her bottom, squeezing, then letting go and squeezing again.

* * *

M
ANDY
'
S
 
BRAIN
 
WHIRLED
, or maybe the kitchen spun around her and Daniel. There was something incredibly erotic about the pattern of Daniel's caresses, and when his left hand dropped down and started on the other side, she nearly lost it. All the while, his tongue plunged deeper into her mouth, tasting, invading and inviting.