Jenna Mindel - Mending Fences

“Any bites? I guess it’s early yet.” Her mother’s speech had also improved.

“A guy stopped by yesterday.” She just couldn’t fess up to the land contract.

Her mother’s eye closed and then she shrugged her good shoulder. “Well, it’s a nice piece of property, don’t go giving it away.”

“I won’t.” Jack had paid the listing price without flinching. Surely, that would please her mother, but it wouldn’t hurt to give her mom a little more time to get used to the idea of selling.

“Have you seen your cousin Nancy?”

“No.”

“You should see her children. Her youngest is a cute little thing.”

“Uh-huh.” Since when did her mother like kids? Growing up, Laura wasn’t allowed too many friends over because her mother didn’t like the noise or the mess. Her mother didn’t like all that commotion. Laura had spent her share of time at Nancy’s because of that.

A quick knock on the door and Aunt Nelda peeked in. “I hope you’re in the mood for company.”

Her aunt’s three grandchildren scampered across the room. They surrounded Laura’s mom, wide-eyed with wonder, asking questions about her mother’s drooping face all at once, failing to use their inside voices. But her mother clearly enjoyed the attention, and that surprised Laura.

“Maddie called me,” Aunt Nelda said with a nod toward the hall.

Laura took the hint. “Mom? Aunt Nelda and I are going to get ginger ale for everyone. Will you be okay?”

Her mom shooed them away and returned to her tale about her hospital stay. The kids wore rapt expressions, and Laura’s heart twisted. Her mom had never entertained her with stories when she was kid. Not even a bedtime story. That had been left for her dad to do. And then he’d died.

“The kids love her,” Aunt Nelda whispered.

Laura stared at her mom a moment longer. Who’d have guessed? She followed her aunt out. “Did Maddie tell you we found a buyer?”

Her aunt grinned. “A handsome doctor from Lansing, who just happens to be single.”

Laura shook her head. “He’s a veterinarian, a widower, with two kids, one’s a thirteen-year-old girl. I doubt he’s interested.”

“He’s a man. They’re always interested.” Her aunt’s smile was positively devious.

“I’m not interested.” Since her broken engagement to Anthony, Laura had vowed she’d never be anyone’s stepmother.

“Maybe I’m thinking of Nancy,” her aunt teased.

Laura rolled her eyes. The thought of Jack Stahl dating her cousin made her teeth clench, which was ridiculous. Like she’d told her aunt, she wasn’t the least bit interested.

“Did you tell your mother?” Aunt Nelda asked.

“Not yet.”

Aunt Nelda nodded with understanding. “See, we made the right choice. Everything happened just like it was supposed to.”

Laura had grown up going to a church that spoke of miracles. They never seemed to happen for her, though. Maybe they didn’t exist. She worked hard, and made choices. But it was one big, fat coincidence when Dr. Jack Stahl happened to be driving by yesterday. “Let’s hope Mom agrees with you.”

Aunt Nelda frowned. “When are you going to tell her?”

“When the time is right.” Laura wished God would perform a miracle with her mother. She could use the help.

That Saturday evening, Laura returned from the hospital to find a moving truck parked in the drive. Two men and Jack unloaded boxes and plastic-wrapped furniture into the clean and empty barn. A tall, lanky girl with one long, dark braid sat on the porch swing looking lost.

Laura parked her car and put up the top just in case it rained. The weather had been hot and humid. She eyed the girl on the porch who watched the movers with annoyance. Poor kid.

“You must be Jack’s daughter.” Keeping her distance, Laura sat on the top step of the porch. “My name is Laura.”

“Mine’s Angie,” the girl said softly.

Sensing the kid’s reluctance to chat, Laura didn’t want to push. She rose to leave, but the stark grief pooled in the girl’s blue eyes stopped her cold.

“Moving is tough,” Laura quickly said. “My mom’s lived here for thirty-three years. She’s in the hospital right now and hates it. I tried to get her to move into an old folk’s home but she said she’d rather live in a barn. I can’t blame her a bit. Barns probably smell better.”

She spotted Jack coming toward them. She cringed when she realized the kid had reduced her to rambling. Besides, Laura’s heart went out to her. “Have you seen the inside of the apartment yet?”

Angie nodded and rolled her eyes.

Ouch.

Jack stepped onto the porch, his color high. “Laura, this is my daughter, Angie.”

“We’ve met. If you’re interested, I’d be happy to fix you dinner, but I’m no gourmet cook. Either of you like macaroni salad and sandwiches?” Laura didn’t know where that offer had come from, but it seemed like the neighborly thing to do.

Angie shrugged her shoulders. She looked like she wanted to disappear.

“Come on, Ange, what do you say to Ms. Toivo?” Jack said.

A teenager living in a barn, even with a cute little apartment, was not a good idea. Angie probably thought her father had taken leave of whatever sense he might possess by moving up here.

“Please, no need to call me that. Makes me sound like an old lady.” She looked at Angie, hoping Jack didn’t mind that she’d just counteracted his instructions. “Just Laura, okay?”

“Okay.” Angie glanced back at her dad.

Jack didn’t look confident about what to do with her, but his eyes narrowed in some form of communication.

His daughter evidently understood. With a sigh, she rose from the bench swing. “Point me to your pots and pans. I can help.”

Laura unlocked the door to the kitchen. “Good, because I need all the help I can get.”

“Ange, you go on ahead with Laura. I’ll finish unloading. We don’t have much more,” Jack said.

Angie nodded, but her shoulders drooped.

Laura had heard that junior high girls might as well be aliens. One of the tech guys at work constantly complained about his daughter’s changing attitudes—nice one minute, grouchy the next. She couldn’t blame Angie. Who’d want to move here anyway?

“Your dad said you lived in East Lansing—anywhere near Michigan State? That’s a pretty college campus.”

No answer, just a shrug of skinny shoulders as they went inside.

“Living in the country will grow on you, kind of like mold.” Laura released a nervous laugh.

No response, not even a hint of a smile.

Great. Laura set her purse on the kitchen table. “So—” She clapped her hands together. “Are you good with a knife?”

Angie looked surprised. “I guess.”

Laura opened the refrigerator. “Let’s see, carrots, cukes, pickles, celery and hard-boiled eggs. You can cut these up into a big bowl. I’ll start the pasta and sandwiches.”

“Where’s your big bowls?”

Laura looked through her mother’s cupboards and found some. “How’s this?”

“Fine.”

Laura kept busy. She gathered the fixings for turkey sandwiches and then grabbed a pot, causing all the other pans to rattle and spill out of the cupboard. She glanced at Angie. A ghost of a smile hovered at the corners of the girl’s lips.

“Do you live here?” Angie’s quiet voice asked.

“No. This is my mother’s house.”

“What’s the matter with her—your mom?”

Laura heard the slight tremor in Angie’s voice. It still hurt. Of course it did. Laura still felt twinges when she thought of her dad. She filled the pot with water and set it on the burner. “She had a stroke. Her blood pressure’s too high for her to come home yet.”