CHAPTER FIVE
A midnight-blue American-made pickup—not what Mandy expected. She let the blinds drop and turned to face Candace. “I thought you had an appointment.”
“I do. Watching you go out with Daniel.” Candace twirled the end of the hot-pink scarf tied around her head.
“You better make yourself scarce. He’s coming up the walkway.”
He’d changed into jeans and a T-shirt with the logo of an area restaurant. She went to open the door and stepped out to keep him from seeing Candace.
At the truck, Daniel held open the door. Mandy studied the high seat. If she didn’t have the boot and crutches, it wouldn’t be a problem.
“Let me help.” He gathered the crutches and leaned them against the side of his truck. “It will be easier if you face me.”
Mandy was still puzzling over his words when he placed his hands on her waist and lifted her into the cab. He stepped back, but the warmth remained where his hands had been. She managed to mutter a thank-you as he handed her the crutches before closing the door.
Without another word, he got in and started the truck. Still feeling his hands about her, Mandy struggled to come up with a topic of conversation. Do all women feel like this when you pay attention to them? Hardly seemed like an appropriate topic. Her “Nice day” was met by a “yup,” reminding her more of the stoic little boy of twenty years ago. He’d started talking after she’d taught him to catch frogs.
Daniel navigated out of her neighborhood and to the county road leading toward the mansion. If one of them didn’t start talking soon, the drive would be unbearable. Mandy searched for a topic of conversation. It had been nearly twenty years since they’d spent the summer searching for tadpoles in his creek and eating popsicles stolen from his freezer. Back then he’d been the boy on the other side of the fence. Now he was one of the most sought-after men in the country, and she was still the kid from the tiny house.
Daniel didn’t seem inclined to speak either. At least he wasn’t holding a gun on her.
At the gate he hopped out, unlocked it, and drove through. Then he went and locked the gate again. “Where do you need to go to get your photo?”
“Anyplace where the old walnut tree isn’t in the way. I need the architecture from the east wing. The gingerbread work is hard to duplicate in my mind.”
The road curved around the tree.
“Right here would be perfect.”
Daniel stopped the truck. She started to open her door, but he laid his hand on her arm. “Wait for me to come around. I’d hate for you to put those crutches in some gopher hole.”
She studied him. Without the anger, he reminded her of the shy eight-year-old who’d escorted her on a tour of the mansion. She tried not to read anything into the hands on her waist and removed her hand from his shoulder as soon as her toes touched the ground.
He carried her bag while she found the right spot. Mandy exchanged her crutches for the bag.
“That camera isn’t as nice as the one you had the other day.”
She raised the camera. “This is my camera. The broken one belongs to the university. I borrowed the camera for the telephoto lens—now I’m out $60,000.”
“You mean six, don’t you? I thought I heard wrong at the store.”
Mandy took a shot. “Nope, sixty. Six-zero, zero, zero, zero. Which, for a third-year high school teacher, is twice my salary. If the university insurance doesn’t come through, I may never get the diploma. Ironically, with the degree, my pay would go up $10k.” She snapped two more photos.
He gave a low whistle.
She took a few hops, mindful of not putting her weight on the booted food, then a couple more, raised her camera, and took a few shots before taking a few more jumps and repeating the process. Daniel offered a steadying hand on her elbow whenever she stopped. They had moved nearly the length of a football field before she put the camera back in her bag. “I have what I need now. Thank you.”
“Do you need to go inside?” Daniel exchanged the bag for her crutches.
She shook her head. “No, I’m only fixing up the outside of the buildings. Besides, I like the memories I have of that summer. I’m sure the inside has deteriorated as much as the outside, and I don’t want to remember that.”
Daniel stiffened. “That was the worst summer of my life. I’d like to forget what the inside of the house looks like.” He grabbed her bag and headed back to the truck, leaving her to navigate the gopher holes and ant hills herself.
She watched his retreating form. What had happened to her Danny? She was sure she had seen the polite boy only minutes ago. They had had so much fun that summer. How could it be the worst ever?
Being around Mandy brought back too many memories too fast. He shouldn’t have left her there, but crying in front of her wasn’t an option and he feared he might. He opened the cab door and looked back. Mandy had barely covered ten feet. Driving on the weedy lawn wouldn’t hurt, he started the truck and drove to her side.
He might not be the most perceptive of men, but when he lifted Mandy onto the truck seat, he was fairly sure she was confused and in pain. He shouldn’t have walked off without a word. But the thoughts of his mother had been overwhelming.
“Sorry about that. I try not to think about that summer. Seeing you brought back a lot of memories, many of them bad. I shouldn’t have said it was the worst summer because it was also the best. I did meet the first friend I ever had.” He offered what he hoped was an apologetic smile before shutting her door.
Mandy waited to speak until he put his seat belt on. “A Tale of Two Cities summer, then? It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.”
“That fits.” Not only had he lost his mom, but his father had died in some measure with her.
“It was kind of like that for me too. I realized my parents didn’t want me around. Little kids and archeology don’t go together well. Don’t get me wrong—they loved me. They just didn’t want me with them.”
“I thought your parents had taken you on digs before.”
They passed two farmhouses before she responded. “They did, but the year before, I was playing at a dig and a scorpion stung me. Fortunately, one of their students decided to investigate my screaming. My mom had heard me but figured I was playing. Hence my summers with Grandma Mae. Not that I understood my being at the dig was a safety issue. I thought they didn’t want me around.”
He nodded, having adults not wanting him around was all-too familiar and probably the reason he’d bonded with the scruffy little tomboy and her grandmother. “Do they still teach?”
“They are in Peru on a joint sabbatical. I think they spend more time below the equator than above it. They love their work, and I think they wish I were more interested. But, alas, I hate scorpions and learned to prefer skirts over pants. Neither of which work well on digs.” Mandy laughed, a tiny sound not quite sincere.
Daniel nodded. “Did you ever go on another dig?”
“No, when I was sixteen, they asked me to, but I wasn’t interested. Especially after all Dad’s caveats about staying away from the college boys. It was like he was sure I would lead them to their doom or they would lead me to mine.”
At a stop sign, Daniel looked her way. “I see why your father might have been concerned.”
She blushed. His heart did a little flip. When was the last time he’d seen a woman blush? Not one of the fake actress ones, but a real, honest-to-goodness, blood-rushing-to-the-cheeks sort of blush?
“What about you? Is your life as glamorous as it seems?”
“Ten minutes of my life each week manages to find its way into the gossip columns. What they miss is the hours I spend in boardrooms, sorting out ideas and trying to listen to people twice my age who may or may not be trying to give me good advice about the empire the last four generations of Crawfords built. Then everyone I meet thinks they know me because they have seen my photo while standing in the checkout line. I get invited to big parties where people usually try to part me with large amounts of my money. Other than some delicious food, I would say my life isn’t as idyllic as it seems.”
He drove by the ice cream shop. “Do you want to stop and get a cone?”
“Can I take a rain check? I really would like to put my foot up. I chose not to take my last pill before we left, and I’m regretting it.”
Daniel winced. “And then I left you to navigate back to the truck on your own. Grandma Mae, would stand me in a corner for a month.”
“But she would give you cookies afterward. If you want ice cream, Candace picked some up today. You can come in and have a bowl.”
Daniel parked in the driveway. “I’d love to.”
Candace dashed out of the living room as they entered the house.
“Wasn’t her hair a different color this morning? And shorter?” Daniel tried to make sense of the flowing auburn locks he’d seen.
“Yup, I think she has sixteen or more different wigs. You will be hard-pressed to catch her in the same hair two days in a row.”
Not sure where to go with the conversation, he turned to Mandy’s needs. “Why don’t you get comfortable, and I’ll bring you your pain meds. Where do you keep them?”
She sat on the couch. “In the cupboard above the refrigerator—the green bin. There should be one left in the Rx bottle.”
Daniel had never seen a kitchen like this. The cabinets were painted in a dozen mini canvases, each one its own work of art. He found the drinking glasses in a Monet-inspired cupboard next to a Matisse. Above the sink hung a stained-glass window reminiscent of a Tiffany lamp. The cup in his hand overflowed while he was taking it all in.
“That kitchen is amazing! Who did you get to do that?”
Mandy swallowed the pill before responding. “That’s what happens when you have a house full of artists and no dates on the weekends. It’s a work in progress. Over the years, six or seven of us have added our work to the room. I’m not sure how the painting got started. The Albrecht Dürer was here when I moved in, as was the kitchen table.”
“I missed the table. Your landlord doesn’t mind?”
“No, it’s Candace’s house, and she is pretty much the instigator. As long as we follow her rules, she is pretty cool with everything.”
“She has rules?” Daniel took the empty glass.
“Yes, yes, I do.”
He turned toward the voice. This time her hair was in a blonde bob.
Candace struck a pose worthy of a Grecian goddess. “Go ahead and ask. I know you are dying to.”
“What’s up with the wigs?”
“Every year I get a cancer free checkup, I buy a new wig. I already have my eye on the one I am going to get in June, my tenth. My father and sister also give them to me for birthdays and Christmas. I have seventeen. Plus a few cheap ones for fun.”
“If you’ve been cancer free for almost ten years, why do you still wear wigs?”
“Alopecia. After my chemo ended, my hair didn’t grow back. At first my mother got me natural wigs. But I decided to have some fun. Hence, tonight I’m a blonde off to a party at a friend’s. So, what are you two kids doing?” Candace gathered her purse.
Mandy answered. “I invited Daniel in for some ice cream.”
“What? No takeout and a movie?” Candace’s idea sounded great to Daniel.
“Just don’t forget the rules. Bye, kids.” She flitted out the door.
“What rules?”
“This is a smoke and alcohol-free house. If you want to know why—the cancer is part of it, and the details are for Candace to tell. It’s also drug free. Usually we don’t even have anything stronger than ibuprofen, but Candace insisted.” Mandy pointed to the empty Rx bottle.
“Okay, I guess I will not decide to start smoking while I am here. Chinese or pizza?”
Mandy shifted her position on the couch to raise her foot. “Do you mind burgers? When I’m in pain, I always want cheeseburgers and chocolate milkshakes.”
“Your wish is my command. Would you like fries with that?”
“Sure, and let yourself in when you come back, okay?”
“Are you sure it’s safe to leave the door unlocked?”
“This isn’t Chicago. I’m sure I’ll be safe for the twelve and a half minutes it will take you to go get burgers.”
Pain was evident in the tightness around her eyes, and Daniel was sure she was trying to use humor to help ease it. “Okay, start the timer.”