Until She Met Daniel

“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.

“It’s a great place.”

“I’ve never lived in a small town, so I don’t know what’s typical. Especially in such a rural area.”

“Me, either.” Her words were distorted by a sudden yawn. “Sorry, don’t know where that came from.”

“Lack of sleep? You couldn’t have gotten much rest last night after cleaning my office.”

“That’s funny. I’d almost forgotten.”

At first Daniel wondered if she was being sarcastic, but Mandy’s face showed no sign of it. Instead she was busily petting the long-haired feline on her lap, making funny little sounds to Mr. Spock.

After draining his glass, he stood. “I should probably go,” he said. “Thanks for the tea.”

“Thanks for bringing Mr. Spock home. Sorry he barged into your kitchen. I’ll try to keep him inside. I don’t want him to be a nuisance.”

“Don’t worry. He’s welcome.”

Strangely, Daniel realized he meant it. The cat had brought a measure of warmth to the Victorian, making him wonder if he should consider getting a pet. Samantha would probably enjoy it. He’d talk with Joyce and see what she thought.

* * *

CHRIS RUSSELL PARKED in his garage and stretched. It was too bad he had only two weeks for vacation. Since Susan had taken three off from the mill, they might have taken a longer trip, except that she had wanted to be home for the city council meeting. Nevertheless, it was good to be home again, weird as it seemed with Evan away at college.

As Chris slid out of the car, he glanced at his bicycle, deciding to ride it to work tomorrow. To date, he’d kept his resolution to ride the bike to the forestry station a minimum of two days a week—it was much better for the environment. Besides, the exercise was healthy and he had an official vehicle for any fieldwork.

He came into the house and found his wife in the kitchen. He pulled her into a hot, sexy kiss. It was great that after twenty years of marriage they were still this good together. After a couple of minutes, he eased his grip and stepped back to admire the flush on her face. He grinned. “Hi, honey. Did you have a good day?”

“Not bad. I saw Mandy and met the new city manager...and had coffee with Dad at Elena’s.”

His nerves tightened. Thankfully, Susan didn’t mention her father very often. Big Joe Jensen was, in Chris’s opinion, a boil on the butt of creation, even if the description was a bit clichéd.

“Oh,” he said shortly.

“Yeah, he’s still upset we didn’t go to Hawaii.”

“How is it his damn business?”

“He’s my father, Chris.”

“Yeah, well...let’s just forget it.”

An odd expression crossed Susan’s face, but then she smiled. “Right. How was work?”

“Great. What’s for dinner?”

“Quesadillas and salad.”

“Sounds perfect. I’ll go get washed up.”

* * *

SUSAN CHECKED THE food in the oven and pulled the salad from the refrigerator. She’d considered making pork or chicken tacos for herself. It wasn’t that she objected to Chris being a vegetarian, but she enjoyed having meat part of the time...until he got that look on his face, as if he’d smelled something rotten. Under the circumstances, it was easier to fix the same thing for both of them.

She set out extra fillings for the quesadillas on the counter. The tortillas were particularly delicious when packed with chopped cabbage, tomatoes, avocado, salsa and other things. They were good with meat, too, but... She pushed the thought away. She’d known Chris was a vegetarian when they had married, and at least he wasn’t vegan. Proper vegan cooking was complicated, having to mix certain foods to ensure you ate complete proteins. Luckily, Chris was a cheese fanatic, and hadn’t been able to give up dairy products.

He also hadn’t given up an occasional fish dinner, though that was a problem for her since she was allergic to seafood.

By the time Chris had returned to the kitchen, everything was ready. He’d shaved, and the base of her abdomen tightened. Shaving usually meant he hoped for a hot night in bed, so maybe their trip had done more than she’d thought. Or it could be the knowledge that, as much as they missed Evan, being alone in the house also had a few advantages.

He grinned knowingly. “How about an early night?”

“Sounds good to me.”

They served their quesadillas and added the salad on the side before taking their plates to the kitchen table. Their view looked out to a wooded area beyond the house, which was much better than the four walls of the dining room they rarely used. But as soon as they sat down, Evan’s absence hit her, and she had a feeling Chris felt it, as well.

“We could move the extra chair into the other room,” she suggested. “I hate seeing it empty. But Evan might feel strange if he came home for a visit and saw it wasn’t there.”

“True, though I don’t think he’ll be home until Thanksgiving.”

Thanksgiving was over two months away. More than ever, Susan regretted giving in to Chris’s insistence they have only one child. His arguments had made sense at the time, all about reducing population pressure and taking care of the environment, but it would be nice to still have kids in the house.

“We’ll need to plan something extra special for the holiday,” she said.

“Yeah, thank God this is our year to stay at home,” Chris muttered vehemently. “Dinner with your parents is like stepping into the eighteen hundreds.”

The muscles between Susan’s shoulder blades twinged. She and Chris had worked out a compromise about Thanksgiving. Since he’d grown up in foster homes, he had no family to visit, and he disliked going to her parents’ home. So they alternated, going only every other year.

“You could be more gracious about the way you say things like that,” she told him, more annoyed than usual.

He seemed surprised. “You don’t enjoy spending Thanksgiving with your father any more than I do.”

No, she didn’t, but it was hard when Chris was so vehement about his disdain for the Jensens. Actually, for her father. He liked her mom well enough, though he claimed Karen Jensen didn’t have a backbone.

Neither do I, came the unpleasant thought. It wasn’t true, but maybe she should call her husband to account more often when he was rude about her family. She just didn’t want to fight about it tonight, so soon after returning from their vacation.

“They’re my parents,” she reminded him. “But let’s forget it for now.”

Chris’s expression eased and they continued with their meal. When his leg brushed hers, she knew he was still in the mood for an early night.