Read Stepping Up To Love (Lakeside Porches 1) Online

Authors: Katie O'Boyle

Tags: #Contemporary, #Romance, #Fiction, #Lakeside Porches, #Series, #Love Stories, #Junior Accountant, #College Senior, #Alcoholic, #Relationship, #Professor, #Predatory, #Trustee, #Stay, #Sober, #Embezzlement, #Threaten, #Ancestors, #Founded, #Miracles, #Willing For Change, #Stepping Up, #Spa, #Finger Lakes

Stepping Up To Love (Lakeside Porches 1) (20 page)

BOOK: Stepping Up To Love (Lakeside Porches 1)
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Chapter 7

Manda flew along the lakeshore, her feet circling rhythmically, willow fronds ruffling as she passed between the rows of trees. The sun was weak today, and the southern breeze off the water made the air temperature perfect for cycling. This was her second pass of the two-mile path along the lake; today she would log eight miles for her early morning ride.

Gwen had suggested more discipline in her exercise routine. “See what happens,” Gwen challenged.

“I’ll have a better butt?”

“That, too. Give it a month, and watch what happens, watch how you handle things.”

Manda knew she was handling things differently. Even though she was still waiting for word from grad schools about scholarships, she had taken charge from her side. In addition to finishing the paperwork for loans—her backup plan—she had, in the last week, taken the initiative to visit St. Basil’s and Syracuse University.

At both schools, she confirmed her interest and her qualifications and her financial need. Both schools were eager to have her start in the fall, but both were delayed with their scholarship decisions. If Joel was right, the small schools were worried about enrollments. So she told St. Basil’s she was also waiting to hear from Syracuse about financial aid; that got their attention.

She was not going crazy in the meantime; she had plenty to focus on. As she did most mornings, after her bike ride she showered, ate cereal with berries, dressed in a tan or navy skirt and preppy shirt, fixed a fresh salad with chicken for lunch and packed it in her tote bag. By ten o’clock she was in her cubicle at the Manse working productively; after work she headed to the lakeshore for a walk to de-stress. A quick change of clothes and she was ready for a light supper and an AA meeting. Any awake time after the meeting went to coffee with friends, reading, or sewing. Her life worked today.

Her friendship with Joel felt like it was “on hold,” rather than “over.” She was not interested in dating anyone else. Her mantra “off men for life” had changed to “not yet.” And her butt was definitely better.

Gwen found other ways to challenge Manda’s thinking and push her into more grown-up behavior. Manda now saw herself as one of the staff at the Manse, rather than a student who was lucky enough to have an internship that turned into a part-time job. When Manda proposed asking Joel about continuing her position at the Manse after graduation, Gwen suggested she talk it over with her boss, Dan, instead. “That is the normal way to inquire about one’s job,” Gwen pointed out with a smile.

“Duh. I should know that.”

Her discussion with Dan went well, and she was excited to hear that he and Joel wanted her to take on more responsibility, provided she agreed to stay with the job for at least a year at three-quarter time. She told Dan, “Yes!” and barely restrained herself from hugging him.

Part of fitting in as a regular employee, Gwen pointed out, was dressing the part. Manda now had clothes that fit. In the past month she had put together a simple wardrobe. By using the tailoring tricks her mother taught her, she improved the fit of her better-quality, baggy clothes. On a visit to a nearby fabric shop, she picked up two bargain pieces of cloth—one linen, one twill—to make tailored skirts.

She discovered one of her friends from the Manse, Sara, was a genius with consignment shops and bargain-back-rooms. Saturday afternoons found them in the more affluent villages of the Finger Lakes checking out the latest goods. Manda’s limit any weekend was twenty dollars; so far she had picked up an ivory silk shirt, a black pencil skirt, black ballet flats, and smashing belts and scarves.

Late in August, on one of their afternoon biking trips, Gwen asked Manda, “Are you thinking about dating?”

“Nope, not yet.”

“Not even Joel?” Gwen tested.

Manda did not answer.

“Listen, if you’re thinking about marriage in your future, you might want to consider dating a few men at some point. Dating is an approved way to find your ‘soul mate,’ as you call him.”

That hit Manda where she hurt the most; she believed she had found her soul mate and lost him because of her own immaturity. She was still embarrassed about her meltdown with Joel after the dessert party.

“I’d just like to be friends with the men I know right now and any interesting men I meet.”

Gwen gave her a skeptical look.

“For a while. While I’m in grad school. And anyway, I think a serious relationship should start with friendship.”

Gwen agreed that was a good starting point. “Do you consider Joel your friend?”

“We have been friends. I’m not sure now.” Manda told her, “I think for a serious relationship to have a chance, it’s important to be honest with each other, and there have been secrets that still worry me.”

“Does Joel know that? Have you been honest with him? Have you gone back to talk with him about it?”

Joel had been invisible since her meltdown. Manda heard him leave the house each morning on his way to the Early Risers meeting. She occasionally heard his voice in the hall at the Manse.

“I believe he does,” Manda answered. It sounded false even to her.

Gwen speculated, “It’s possible he’s waiting for you to approach him.”

Manda thought it over. “I guess,” she conceded. “When it comes down to it, I’m afraid.”

Gwen swerved and couldn’t catch herself before she dumped the bike. Manda stopped to give her a hand.

“Are you hurt?

“I didn’t see that coming.” Gwen checked the bike for damage and, finding none, brushed dirt and willow fronds from her clothes and her hair. “I swear, Manda, when you get honest about something, you blow my socks off.”

“Seriously, Gwen, I have a lot of growing up to do. It’s not that I don’t love—well, I don’t know if I love Joel. I feel like I’m not ready for any next steps. Blaming it on Joel’s secrets is just a cover, to be honest.”

Gwen motioned to a picnic table by the lake, and they parked their bikes for a break. Manda took a long swallow from her water bottle and offered Gwen her bag of trail mix. Gwen ate hungrily.

“I have a bunch more questions for you,” Gwen warned Manda.

“Like…”

“Do you want to marry into a large family? Do you want children? Is religion important to you? If you didn’t have to work, would you still want to? Do you need to have interests in common or lead essentially separate lives? I want you to give some thought to those things and talk with me and other women about them.”

“I’ll give it a try.” Manda response was halfhearted.

Gwen encouraged, “Another way to think about it is to look around the program at marriages that seem to be what you’re looking for. Make note of what appeals and what doesn’t. If you’re comfortable, ask the women and men in those marriages how they make it work.”

Manda was quiet.

“Does that sound like a good idea?”

Manda turned to smile at her but frowned instead when she saw the sky. “We need to go back now. Look.”

The clouds in the west were black with rain.

As they mounted their bikes, the wind picked up and blew toward them. Gwen urged, “Let’s pick up our pace. I don’t want to get soaked out here.”

Just as they reached Gwen’s car, rain spattered them with big, cold drops. Forgetting that Manda had ridden her bike to meet her, Gwen threw her own bike on her rack, gave Manda a hasty wave, and peeled out of the parking lot toward her home on the eastern lakeshore.

Resigned to a soaking, Manda pedaled two miles in the downpour and, at last, climbed Lakeside Terrace to the last house on the bluff.

Joel was watching for her and ran down the stairs with a big towel. “I’ll put your bike away. Get a hot shower.” She nodded her thanks, too chilled to speak.

When she emerged from the shower, her apartment was silent and empty. The heat from the blow dryer warmed her as it dried her curls. She pulled on dry jeans, a warm turtleneck, and thick socks.

A light knock sounded at her door. “Joel?”

“Want food?”

Manda laughed and opened the door to him.

“I made a pot of chili. It’s too hot to bring down. Join me?”

She smiled and nodded. “I’ll bring celery and cheese.”

Joel added with a grin, “You might want to wear your glasses.” Manda grabbed her glasses, a bunch of celery, and a hunk of Monterrey Jack and trudged up the stairs behind him.

“Did Gwen call you?”

“I called both your cell phones when I saw the storm moving in. I caught Gwen just as she pulled into her driveway. We figured you were almost home by then, so I watched out for you.”

“I was frozen. That towel saved me. Thanks for taking care of the bike.”

He nodded and took the celery to the sink.

She sat cross-legged on a stool at the island.

“I’ll slice cheese and make celery sticks while you dish up the chili,” she offered.

He handed her the fresh-washed celery, a sharp knife, and a cutting board. They worked silently for a minute.

“It’s nice to see you,” she ventured.

Joel turned with a smile and met her eyes.

“I miss our friendship,” she blurted out.

She saw pain flash behind Joel’s eyes.

He cleared his throat. “Me too,” he managed to say. “I just want to say I’ve been seeing my therapist, and I am taking responsibility for being so dense and hurtful when we talked after my anniversary meeting.”

“I think that’s a good move, Joel.”

Joel looked at her, and she offered a troubled smile.

He looked away and made himself busy setting two places at the table next to the window, transferring food and glasses of water and a sliced baguette in its own basket.

They sat opposite each other and worked their way through the chili, silently watching the rain pound the lake.

“More?” Joel asked and pointed to Manda’s empty bowl.

She shook her head. “It was great, thanks.”

Joel said casually, “I’ve been wanting to ask you something that’s really none of my business.”

Manda saw the vulnerability in his gray-green eyes, and—for the first time—she saw his love reaching out to her. How had she missed it before?

She stammered, “Go ahead.”

“I’ve been thinking about your grad school plans and how you could finance your degree. Okay to talk about it?”

Manda nodded and offered him a slice of cheese before taking one herself.

“I know both your parents died together in an accident, and I think you said your aunt, your guardian, also passed away not long after.”

Manda nodded.

“Was there any inheritance you could tap for your masters program?”

Manda was startled.

Joel held up his hands and acknowledged, “Like I said, it’s none of my business.”

“It’s fine. I have no idea how to answer that. I can’t believe I never thought of it.”

“You don’t know if there was an inheritance?” Manda looked out the window, trying to remember. She’d put it out of her mind because all of it was too painful.

Joel let her ponder while he cleared their dishes and started a pot of tea. He came back to the table with a sweater and draped it around her shoulders before sitting across from her again.

“Thank you. I didn’t realize how chilled I still am.” She slipped his sweater over her head and rolled up the sleeves. “There’s not much I remember. I know our family lived comfortably, and I thought there was money put away for our college expenses, but still we were expected to get scholarships. And we both did.

“Mom and Dad owned the house with no mortgage, and they both made good money as teachers. When they died, I don’t think they had a will, either of them. Lyssa and I were both under eighteen. It was my father’s sister Estelle who agreed—reluctantly, capital R—to take us in until we went to college. Aunt Estelle was allowed to sell our parents’ house to meet the expense of taking care of us.” Manda sat back and let out a big breath. “Does any of that tell us who inherited anything?" 

Joel was thoughtful. “If your parents died intestate, any life insurance will have gone to funeral expenses. Probably a judge awarded Estelle custody—or twisted her arm by approving the sale of the home for her needs as guardian. I suspect she made out well if there was no mortgage. The judge probably put anything else—savings, investments, and so on—into trust for you and Lyssa until you came of age, at least twenty-one. You lived in New York State?”

Manda nodded. “Olean, and my aunt lived a few miles away in Allegany. I have a vague memory of Aunt Estelle saying something to the two of us one night when we’d been sassing her. Something about telling the judge he should make it thirty when we could claim our trust. Lyssa went off to Texas at the end of that first summer, so that scene must have been shortly after our parents died. I think the house had just been sold, and we were acting up about her selling all the books and record albums and things that mattered to us.”

“And when did your Aunt Estelle die?”

“I had just started at Tompkins, so early fall one year later. She had a heart attack, they said.”

“Did you hear from anyone about a signature to probate her will, anything like that?”

Manda thought about it and shook her head. “I don’t remember anything like that.”

Joel prompted her, “You mentioned once that you paid cash for your car. Where did that money come from?”

“That was money I saved from waitressing all through high school. And I went back to Olean every summer—except last summer—to waitress. I always stayed with a friend from high school.”

“Do me a favor,” Joel said. “Ask your sister if she’s aware of money in trust for the two of you. Even if it’s not much, it’s worth pursuing.”

Manda nodded thoughtfully, her eyes on the lake.

“Are you okay with my asking about this?”

BOOK: Stepping Up To Love (Lakeside Porches 1)
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