Page 10 of Mending Fences
“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 Citiessummer, 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.
