Until She Met Daniel (22 page)

Gasping, she finally pulled away, whirled and leaned against the kitchen counter.

“No,” she whispered as he dipped his face into the curve of her neck. “Unsatisfied need isn't my idea of a great way to spend the rest of the day.”

“Just trying to distract you from unpleasant guests.”

“Doing the dishes will work just fine.”

“Spoilsport.”

“What happened to the stuffy guy who disapproved of such things in his office? Is his kitchen any better?”

“Damn.
Now
you have to get sensible on me.”

“Speaking of sensible, you came in here to fetch more coffee for your guests.”

Daniel straightened and looked chagrined. “Oh, yeah.” He took the coffeepot and left.

Mandy wanted to stick her head under a cold faucet, but instead, she grabbed a plate and began scraping bits of leftover food into the trash, hoping the prosaic task would get her mind off kissing...and other pursuits.

 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

C
HRIS
'
S
 
STOMACH
 
WASN
'
T
 
happy about the lemon meringue pie he'd eaten for dessert, but the pumpkin probably would have been worse. Actually, his stomach hadn't appreciated the entire Thanksgiving meal...too much anticipation of the discussion Susan had insisted they have with Evan.

They'd argued bitterly when their son had been out of earshot, and even a few times when he'd been present. Now, seated at the table, they simply acted awkwardly with each other.

“Okay, guys, what's wrong?” Evan asked finally.

Chris stiffened. “Nothing.”

“Actually, we've been having a difference of opinion lately,” Susan explained, “and we need to talk with you about it.”

“
What
difference of opinion?”

“We're looking at new water sources in town.”

Evan grinned. “Let me guess. Dad is on the opposite side, same as usual.”

“What a smart kid,” Susan said fondly. “But it's...well, more than that, the water debate just brought everything into the open. The truth is, your dad is only here because it's Thanksgiving. We've been separated while we work things out.”

“
Temporarily
separated,” Chris added hastily.

Evan looked stunned. “I don't get it. You like, get along so great.”

“It's complicated,” Susan told him. “And we're sorry to hit you with it this way, but we also need to be honest with you.”

“I guess that explains why Dad never answers when I call the house.”

“Right,” Chris agreed. “But we don't want you to worry about it. Everything is going to be fine.”

“We hope,” Susan added.

Thankfully, Evan seemed too bewildered by the whole thing to ask much right away. Instead, as they always had done after the Thanksgiving meal, they all set out for a walk and the conversation returned to more normal subjects.

“How are your classes going?” Susan asked after a while.

“Pretty good. I've been studying with my girlfriend.”

“Must be a different girl from the last one you told us about,” Chris commented, recalling Evan mentioning a girlfriend devoted to online role-playing games.

“That's been over for ages. I haven't gone out with Angie for ages.”

“For ages, huh?” Chris wanted to share a smile with Susan, but she was staring at a fall leaf and didn't look up.

Around midafternoon, Evan announced he had to get back to school. “Are you sure you can't stay until tomorrow morning? I hate having you drive after dark,” Susan said, and Chris nodded in agreement. Funny how the things you boldly did as a teenager yourself, you
didn't
want your son doing.

“Don't worry. I'll get a room if it gets too late. And, uh...” Even stopped, glanced back and forth between his parents. “Thanks for telling me. I kinda had a feeling something wasn't right.”

“Remember, no matter what, we both love you,” Susan said.

Evan left a few minutes later. His visit had lasted less than twenty-four hours, but Susan had done six loads of laundry for him.

Chris and Susan stood on the porch, watching their son's car disappear around a curve. Chris wondered if Susan was feeling the same adrenaline letdown. It was hard to believe they were in this situation.

“I just don't understand why you won't look at the other side of an issue,” she murmured, breaking the silence. “You used to, a long time ago.”

“Someone has to stand up for the environment.”

“I know, but the night we met, you talked about building coalitions and educating people. About searching for workable options. I thought it was wonderful. Then you met Dad and turned into a knee-jerk radical.”

“That's ridiculous.”

“Is it? You've assumed that I'm just echoing my father—you haven't bothered looking at the reality of the town's need for water, or tried to understand or be reasonable. And for twenty years you've treated me the same way, never noticing the bite marks you and Dad leave behind.”

He snorted. “Don't be melodramatic. We've agreed on most things.”

Susan let out a short, brittle laugh. “Actually, you've just
assumed
we agreed because I got into the habit of simply going along with what you want.”

“You're still saying I try to control everything?” Chris asked incredulously.

“Not exactly. But you
have
gotten your way most of the time without realizing it. I usually let things go by, without saying I had a different opinion, and now I'm paying for it. This is the first time we've really butted heads over something important. And what happened? I didn't cave, you didn't get your way, and you moved out. It feels as if we've spent twenty years building a house of cards.”

Heat crept up Chris's neck; he wasn't proud of the way he'd left. “You're saying this is all my fault, then.”

“
No.
It wasn't until Mandy said she'd left her husband so she wouldn't become a Stepford wife that something clicked in me. I grew up watching my mom suppress her own opinions for the sake of domestic peace. And I've been perpetuating the same dynamic.”

Chris was too confused to respond, so he went inside the house to collect the few things he'd brought. He didn't know what to think, yet the sadness in Susan's voice bothered him...almost as much as the possibility that he hadn't understood how she'd felt through the years. If there was any hope for their marriage to survive, he had to give it some serious thought.

* * *

M
ANDY
 
SAW
 
THE
 
tension in Daniel's face as soon as she went into his office the next day. He obviously regretted initiating their hot kiss—a kiss and other seductive moves that had left her aching all night and longing for more.

“I'm sorry,” he said without preamble. “Yesterday was a mistake I shouldn't have made.”

“Yeah, I figured you'd be back to your old self before long.”

“I'm concerned.” Daniel stopped and ran his fingers through his dark hair. “What if Samantha had come in? She could be getting her hopes up about something that's never going to happen. My God, she's been hurt enough.”

A confused rush of anger and pain swept through Mandy, however illogical it might be. After all, she'd told Daniel she didn't intend to get tied down, so she shouldn't be hurt he didn't see her as a potential life partner. And he'd said from the beginning that he wasn't ready to get involved with anyone. As for him being protective of Samantha, he was a loving father. It was one of the things she liked about him.

Actually, there were a lot of things Mandy liked about Daniel.
Too
many things. And that was why it stung to have him push her away.

Besides, he was the one who'd broken down and kissed her the day before, in his own house with his daughter and his ex's mother just down the hall. Now he wanted to act as if they'd never done more than shake hands.

She squared her shoulders. “I don't see the problem with us being friends—you and me and Samantha. And Joyce, naturally.”

“Do I have to spell it out? She's a little girl with an emotionally detached mother. And you aren't going to be here for long—you aren't anywhere for long.”

“I love Willow's Eve and I've stayed for almost seven months now.”

“I'm sure that seems like an eternity after nine years of peripatetic jumping from one job and town to another.”

“Peripatetic?” Mandy hiked an eyebrow. “What did you do, search the dictionary last night to find the word with the most syllables? Don't forget, I'm the one with the English lit major. The way you phrased it is redundant.”

“Regardless, moving on is what you do every time things get complicated.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Tell me truthfully—with all of this mess going on in town and between us, you've considered packing up and leaving, haven't you?”

“It's not the same,” Mandy protested, though it was true the thought of leaving the turmoil behind
was
attractive. “I told them when they interviewed me that I probably wouldn't stay. Four or five months is usually my limit.”

“Then why are you still here?”

“I thought I'd finally found a place where I fit it. Now I'm just...not so sure.”

“Terrific. For once you found a place where you feel comfortable, and that means most of the people fit what you want them to be. But I don't match what you expect, and now with the water issue getting so hot, a lot of people aren't adjusting to your narrow specifications, either.”

“You don't understand.”

Mandy stalked out furiously, heading for her own office. When the rubber hit the road, Daniel was a jerk.

And they were impossibly mismatched, despite the fact they generated enough heat to solve the energy crisis, presuming some scientist could discover how to harness it. But he was conservative establishment. She was spontaneous and eager to try new things and gain new experiences. And what was wrong with being like that? After the disaster with Vince, she'd promised herself she would never get involved with a guy who didn't accept her as she was. She should remember that promise whenever Daniel made her blood sizzle.

“Mandy?”

It was him. Office keys in hand, she wheeled around. “What do you want?”

“The reason we came in today was to discuss questions on the water issue. Remember?”

Guilt stabbed her. City Hall, including the Senior Center, was closed for a four-day holiday break. Daniel hadn't needed to come in; he could have stayed home with Sam. And unlike her own father, who had consistently chosen work over time with his daughter, Daniel obviously enjoyed his daughter's company. But whenever they had tried to talk for the past week, they'd been interrupted. So he'd come in, anyhow.

She swallowed and opened her office, inviting him inside. “Okay. Number one on the list of latest concerns is the fact this is a small town, and having a sewage treatment plant seems unnecessary, not to mention expensive.”

“You can't tell me they like septic tanks.”

“As they say, there are pros and cons to any system. They're used to septic tanks. And someone found a study showing that in some areas, septic tanks are more ecologically sound than the alternative.”

“So the environment becomes more important when it's possible to save money?”

“That's a mean-spirited way of putting it.”

He made a face. “Perhaps, but I'm trying to anticipate what Joe Jensen's objections will be. He'll put it much worse.”

“True,” Mandy had to acknowledge. Big Joe was as cynical as they came.

They ran through the list of concerns the seniors had raised over the past week.

“We need to get everyone discussing things on a rational basis,” Daniel said when they were finished.

Mandy nodded. Rationality was something he probably doubted she had in abundance, but he was wrong. She could see both sides of the issue, and knew that if anything was to get resolved, it would require give-and-take from everyone.

Daniel got up to leave, then hesitated. “Look, I probably said some things I shouldn't have...about why you move around so much. The truth is, I think you care so much about people, you invest too much in their problems. But everyone has problems, and it isn't up to you to fix them.”

His insight made Mandy gulp. “Sometimes I
can
help.”

“That doesn't mean you should. They say a chick needs to break its way out of the shell to be strong enough to survive.”

She clenched her hands so hard, her fingernails dug into her palms. “You don't think I should have agreed to represent the seniors, do you?”

He shook his head. “I'm not saying that, but I wonder how you'll feel if a decision is made that they don't like...provided you stay around long enough for that decision.”

Mandy glared as he walked out, wanting to boot him in the backside, and at the same time wanting to cry. Only she had no reason to cry...except for her frustrated body and mixed-up feelings. She
wasn't
falling in love with Daniel. It didn't matter he wasn't quite the bureaucratic rule follower she'd believed...or that he was a loving father and hard worker, and had a decent sense of humor after all....

She put a brake on her thoughts. She did
not
need to enumerate his good qualities, again. Instead, she should remember he was pigheaded, occasionally stuffy and stuck in his ways.

Hell.

Daniel had accused her of wanting to be accepted, but not accepting him or other people. It had infuriated her when he'd said it, but she couldn't shake the thought. Was there an element of truth in what he'd said?

Especially since she
had
been considering the joys of a fast exit ever since things had gotten sticky in Willow's Eve.

* * *

O
N
 
THE
W
EDNESDAY
 
following Thanksgiving, Daniel paused going down the steps of City Hall to gaze at the large community Christmas tree in the city square. The tree-lighting ceremony had taken place on Saturday night and the tree glimmered with thousands of lights.

He'd never lived in a town with so much sense of community, and it was growing on him. A Christmas tree-lighting party, groups caroling through the streets, holiday songs sounding from the clock tower...he was enjoying it thoroughly. Joyce and Sam had been enthralled, and they'd talked him into putting up lights on the house and on the trees and bushes in the yard.