Callie Endicott - Until She Met Daniel

She shrugged. “Maybe not that big, but with the growing day being nearly twenty-four hours long, they get huge. So that’s my goal,” she said, sticking her chin out. “Along with having lots of new experiences.”

“Oh. Okay.” He didn’t know what to think, except that spending a summer in Alaska growing giant cabbages didn’t fit the kind of goal he’d been talking about.

His whole life had been about planning and setting goals. As a boy, he’d planned each day, with the objective of being involved in anything that kept him out of the house as long as possible—sports, school clubs, field trips, studying at the library, night classes.

Hell, he’d graduated from high school a year early to get away from his embattled parents.

After college, his goal had been to get to the top of city administration as quickly as possible. He liked being in charge. And he preferred being around logical, grounded people— calm people, who weren’t too reliant on emotion when making their decisions. Of course, it turned out his ex-wife had largely operated out of motivated self-interest, but she had been calm and sweet most of the time.

Mandy appeared to do things purely out of emotion, and it made him uncomfortable.

He glanced around her patio. It was cozy, with cushioned outdoor furniture and pots of flowers scattered about. And while the house wasn’t as grandly built as the Victorian, the two buildings had a similar appearance.

“I wonder if the same builder did both of our houses,” he speculated as he scratched the cat’s neck.

“Probably. They told me this was originally a guest cottage for the Victorian.”

“So what brought you to this part of California...besides the urge to wander?”

“My Volkswagen.”

Her smile flashed, so he figured her sense of humor was in action rather than literalism.

“And why did your VW bring you to Willow’s Eve?” he said, trying to play along.

“My itchy feet. I was in Arizona for a few months and decided to head farther west.”

“Maybe your VW has itchy wheels, instead of your feet.”

Mandy looked surprised at the comment, then laughed. “Maybe it’s both.”

“So you didn’t grow up in Arizona either?”

“Nope. That was in Connecticut, but I’ve lived all over for the past eight years.”

“That sounds...interesting.”

She shrugged, which drew Daniel’s unwilling attention to the tight T-shirt over her breasts, reminding him he’d been celibate since he and Celia separated. And even before the end, they’d barely touched each other. After the divorce his male friends had urged him to go wild for a while with a variety of women, but even if he had been the type, he wouldn’t have done it in case Celia decided to use his behavior to get custody of Samantha.

“You seem to like cats,” Mandy said, gesturing at Mr. Spock, who was draped over his arms.

“Actually, it’s the first time I’ve ever held one.” He’d been surprised by his choice to pick up the animal. At first, he’d planned to simply shoo him out the back door, but there’d been something in the feline’s eyes that had made him feel guilty at the thought.

“You must have the touch,” Mandy told him. “He’s perfectly happy.”

Daniel glanced down at his right hand, busily rubbing behind the cat’s ears. “I guess I’ve seen people do this.”

She grinned. “Perhaps he’s exercising mind control to make you do what he wants. I’ve often wondered if cats can do that.”

“Yes, well...” Daniel gently disengaged Mr. Spock’s claws from his sleeve and placed him on the patio flagstones. The enormous animal stretched and strolled to Mandy’s chair, meowing imperiously until she grabbed an old towel from under the chair and draped it over her legs. Mr. Spock leaped onto her lap. “He seems to be overcoming his time of neglect.”

“Yeah, he’s eating like a lion. Poor baby, I think someone abandoned him.” She cocked her head. “That’s a mean thing to do. I doubt it was anyone in Willow’s Eve, but it could have been someone traveling or from another town. I’ve checked the newspaper, both here and in Vicksville, and with the veterinarians in the area to see if anyone is looking for him, but it’s a no-go.”

Daniel stared at the feline. Mr. Spock had begun licking his paw and rubbing his face with it, then behind his ear in a rhythmic pattern. “What’s he doing?”

“You really haven’t been around cats much, have you? He’s giving himself a bath.”

Fascinated, Daniel watched as Mr. Spock scrubbed his nose and again behind his ears. He’d known that cats bathed themselves, had even seen it once or twice on television, but it was different watching the process in person. And the animal was using its paw like a washcloth, which he hadn’t seen before.

Twisting into a contorted position, Mr. Spock began working on the area just under his tail.

Daniel wrinkled his nose. “I’m glad I don’t have to bathe myself that way.”

“That’s for sure. Listen, why don’t you take a load off? I’ll get you a glass of iced tea.”

He hesitated, having figured on dropping off the cat if it was hers, before leaving politely. Spending social time with fellow workers had never been a habit, but sitting alone in the Victorian for the entire evening was unappealing. Surely it wouldn’t do any harm to share Mandy’s company for a short while. Besides, she seemed to understand Willow’s Eve; he might pick up some useful information.

“Iced tea would be terrific,” he said.

She lifted Mr. Spock off her lap, then squirmed out of the Adirondack chair and laughed self-deprecatingly. “I love these things, but they aren’t built for easy liftoff.”

Daniel wished he hadn’t agreed to the iced tea—knowing he’d find it hard to forget the sinuous movements Mandy had made. Reminding himself that it was just the long dry period he’d endured, he sat in the second chair. The cat immediately leaped onto the broad armrest and meowed plaintively. Daniel looked into the animal’s green eyes, amazed at the sense of untamed wildness he got from them.

“Is something wrong?” Mandy asked, coming out the door and handing him a large tumbler.

“No, it’s just that he’s not really domesticated, is he?”

“Heck no. The line between tame and wild is paper thin in a cat.”

“What does he want? He keeps looking at me.”

Mandy laughed. “He’s probably unhappy you don’t have a proper lap for him to sit on.”

“So that’s what the towel is for.”

“Yes, and self-protection. He has sharp claws, and wearing shorts exposes a lot of bare skin.”

As soon as Mandy sat again and laid the towel across her legs, Mr. Spock abandoned Daniel and returned to her.

“How are things over at the house?” she asked.

“Okay. I’m sort of camping out until the movers get here, although that sounds odd in such a grandiose place. Incidentally, the way the house was supplied has been very helpful, along with the groceries, of course. Where should I send a thank-you note?”

“Probably to Jane Cutman. She was the chair of the welcome committee. Everyone will be pleased we guessed right about what you’d need.”

“Great. You mentioned she lived in the yellow house on the other side of your place.”

“Yup, the one with that glorious flower garden.”

Daniel drank some of the tea, trying to release the tension from his first day on the job, but he couldn’t stop recalling his discussion with the mayor. It had been the proverbial “other shoe dropping.”

“You seem to like Willow’s Eve,” he said, wondering if she knew anything about the impending water and sewer issue.