Stepping Up To Love (Lakeside Porches 1) (15 page)

“Don’t think I don’t know how much you’re helping me.”

He held her as long as he dared, desire flooding through him. It was not time. Not yet. He felt her shiver. “Let’s get back,” he proposed. “I’m chilled, and I bet you are, too.”

Manda nodded, turned back toward the Manse and linked her arm with his for a minute, while they were still out of sight of watching eyes. “I have always liked walking with you,” she told him. “I hope we’ll do it again.”

“I’d like nothing better,” he agreed.

The following weeks were a blur as Manda worked at her two part-time jobs and attended to the endless paperwork for loans for grad school, her backup plan if a scholarship did not come through. She found a cryptic note from Joel on her door one morning, “Please save graduation afternoon and evening for a small gathering.” She had no idea what to make of that. She wanted to ask him, but he was scarce at work as well as around the house on Lakeside Terrace. She tucked the note on her tiny desk, and it was soon buried.

Evenings during the week, she went to her Tuesday women’s meeting and the Wednesday Big Book meeting. She and her AA friend Melissa tried one new meeting each week. Manda felt like they were sharing an adventure every time they headed to a new meeting.

Any free time went into sewing for her apartment. By the time her decorating project was finished, she had expertly tailored Roman shades that, except during thunderstorms, remained open, with ten inches of subtle blue and gray striped fabric showing at the top of each window.
I should make a shirt out of that fabric.

Another bolt from the attic—blue and gray paisley—had been fashioned into a futon cover. Scraps covered an assortment of throw pillows in bright blue and white designs, and one girly pink pillow made her think of Lyssa. She loved the look.

She wished she could live here a while, but everything in her life seemed to be in transition right now. The one stable piece was her AA program; she knew AA was everywhere, and she could stay sober wherever she lived. She also knew that, in spite of the ordeal of her last year and a half at Tompkins College, she liked living in Tompkins Falls, liked the people she worked with, loved her new friends in AA. And, she could not deny it, she was fatally attracted to Joel Cushman.

When she finally admitted that to her therapist Janine, the response was, “From everything you’ve said, I can see why you’re attracted to this man. Let’s talk a bit about your choice of words. Why do you say ‘fatally’ attracted? Is he dangerous?”

Manda laughed. “He’s totally un-dangerous. He’s actually been a life saver.”

“Literally?” her therapist said skeptically.

“You could say that. He got me into AA, into therapy, into a safe apartment. He helped me in a lot of ways that have kept me safe and healthy and moving forward with my goals.”

“So he’s a hero to you?”

“Well, partly, I guess. But he’s human.” She spoke about the confrontation in Joel’s kitchen, but she left out the part about Joel crying in her arms the next morning. That was just too personal about Joel.

“So, how would you describe your relationship with him?”

Manda talked about the easy friendship she had with Joel. It was a relationship unlike any she’d had before. She could be honest with him, tell him anything about herself and what she thought of him. She knew she could talk over any issue with him and she valued his ideas, even when she didn’t like what he had to say. She smiled when she thought of the many roles he played, not just in her life, and how easily he slipped in and out of them. He seemed always to be comfortable and confident. “How do people get that self-assured?” she asked her therapist.

“Well, for many of us, it starts with that technique you hear around AA, ‘act as if.’ And, gradually, acting self-assured becomes a habit and eventually becomes a way of thinking about yourself. But let’s talk more about your relationship with Joel. You don’t talk about him as a father figure.” Manda blushed at that, and they both laughed.

They talked about the feeling of closeness she had with Joel, which she’d never had with a man before. She skipped over the incredible necking session in the attic, which still gave her a rush when she thought of it. She did say, “I felt close to him—on the same wavelength—from that first morning in his office when he slid off his monster desk and came beside me to listen to my problem and work with me on a solution.” She admitted wanting their relationship—which had begun when she was at her lowest point—to continue to grow, just as she continued to grow.

Her therapist speculated, “Maybe you aren’t ‘off men for life,’ so much as needing to do experience a relationship differently?”

Manda acknowledged that she needed and wanted to have an honest, open, respectful relationship, instead of—well, at best drinking buddies and at worst being in the sordid hostage situation she’d played out with Kristof. She shuddered. “No wonder I decided I was off men for life.”

“Think you have the courage to change your mind about that?”

Manda didn’t know. “Right now it feels way scary.”

“Give it some time,” Janine suggested. “Our time is up for today. Just a reminder we have only one more session together. If you want to continue after graduation, I’d be very pleased, but it would be at your expense then.” 

The second Saturday in May was Manda’s long-awaited graduation day, and it was anti-climatic at best. She tried to work up some enthusiasm during a short morning walk along the shore. She fixed toast with peanut butter and her favorite blackberry jam. Dressed in her only skirt and blouse, she grabbed her rented cap and gown and drove to the appointed parking lot.

There were plenty of people milling around and no one that looked like Kristof, so she made her way with the crowd to the chapel. She was moved by the Baccalaureate ceremony, even though it seemed to take hours. At the honors brunch she bypassed the made-from-powder eggs and sampled every fresh-baked pastry and every kind of cheese.

At last, she lined up with her class under a big white tent for the ritual of walking across the stage, shaking the hand of a vice president she had never seen, and receiving her diploma. Halfway across the stage, her sense of anti-climax turned to self-pity; no one was on hand to cheer for her.

Lyssa had sent her a silly card from Texas, with a hand-written note “Welcome to the club, little sis! Come on out to TX for your Ph.D.”

Manda realized with a sigh she’d not told any of her AA friends she was graduating, even though they’d helped her stay sober and work through her challenges so she could complete her degree. And Joel. He had gone out of his way to make it possible, and she hadn’t thanked him either.

This really was everyone’s victory, and she had been selfish not to share it. She resolved to get to her Happy Hour meeting tonight and let them know how much their support and friendship meant to her.

The thought cheered her, and she found herself smiling at the vice president and smiling as she made her way through the throng of parents and graduates to hand over her rented cap and gown at the back of the tent. “Manda Doughty,” she announced herself and watched carefully as a harried helper checked off her name. “Thank you,” she told the woman with a big smile.

The woman looked stunned, as though Manda was the first student to thank her for doing this thankless job. “Good luck to you, honey,” the woman said.

Manda walked thoughtfully to her car, diploma in hand, and felt a hand on her shoulder. She knew it was Joel before she turned around. What was he doing here?

“Congratulations,” he told her.

She felt her smile brighten a few notches and told him honestly, “This would not have happened without your intervention.”

He waved it away. “Listen, I’m having a cookout on the patio for a few graduates, including you. I hope you got my note and you’ll come.”

Manda hated herself for forgetting. She stammered, “I was just thinking I needed to get to Happy Hour to thank everyone for their support these last few months. Oh,” she realized, “today is Saturday. No Happy Hour. This is perfect! And I am babbling.” She laughed at herself and felt tears well up. “I guess my emotions are all over the place.”

Joel fought his desire to give her a hug, and simply moved closer to give them some privacy. “The Happy Hour crew knows, believe me. In fact, a few of them were here today for their own families, and I heard them shout when you walked across the stage.”

“Really?” She confessed, “I was so busy feeling sorry for myself and trying not to trip, I didn’t realize.”

Joel raised an eyebrow. “Well, that’s honest anyway. Three of you in the program graduated today, and I have planned a cookout to get us together for some good food and sober fun. You’ll come, won’t you?”

“I will. Thank you, Joel.” She brushed away the pesky tears. “I’m sorry; I don’t know where this came from. Why am I crying?”

“Maybe you’re crying because the ordeal is over. And, by the way, Kristof is officially history at this college. We have many good things to celebrate.” He ruffled her hair. “Did you think you would get away with not telling the world you graduated third in your class?”

“Yes, I thought I would get away with it.” She hated being the center of attention, but she was touched that he knew. How did he know that anyway? Instead she asked, “What are people wearing?”

“To the cookout? You decide. This is my favorite kind of party. It’s just about relaxing and enjoying the people and the occasion and the food.”

“What a concept,” Manda quipped.

Joel touched her elbow, his face serious. “The past is past,” he said quietly, “and I want you to be happy now. I care about you and I’m proud of what you’ve done.”

Manda felt her heart dance with happiness. She kissed Joel’s cheek, and his eyes went from serious to sparkling. “Thanks for salvaging my degree, and for having a party.”

He grinned. “Go get your party clothes. I’ll come by to pick you up at five.”

“Cool!” She waved with her diploma and sauntered to her car.

Joel watched her go and had a memory of her walking into the spa at the Manse after their breakfast that first morning. She had come a long way. He wanted so much for them, and he knew better than to rush her. He said a silent prayer to give her time, to give their relationship time. She was just a few months sober, twenty-two years old, and he didn’t even know her plans. For all he knew, she was planning to move to the other side of the country and put her experience in Tompkins Falls behind her. Well, not if he could help it.

Manda turned back to him when she reached her car and gave him a salute with her diploma. He waved. With a jolt, he realized he no longer needed to keep his distance from her in public. She was a graduate of this institution now, not one of its students. The investigations had moved beyond her particular case. He would not compromise anything by seeing her openly. If she would have him.

Manda tossed her diploma on the front seat of the old VW Beetle. She had just achieved her biggest goal, and the only problem in her life right now was she had nothing to wear to the celebration. She remembered Joel chiding her not to be cheap with herself. She had a credit card, she had an occasion to dress up, and she had two hours to get a party dress.

She knew nothing about fashion, but she knew there were two boutiques on the main street with women’s clothing in the windows. She hoped one of them would have something for a festive cookout on a patio on a sunny evening in May.

When she walked into the chic boutique La Bella, she saw clothes that she could wear to work at a place like the Manse. She wasn’t sure anything would work for an outdoor party.

“May I help you?” the salesperson asked, her voice high-pitched with doubt.

Manda saw her evaluating her baggy skirt and blouse. She laughed at herself and told the woman, “As you can see, I have no idea what size I wear or how to buy clothes. I am going to a graduation party on a patio in a couple of hours.” She flashed her Visa. “I need serious help.”

The young woman winked at her and held out her hand for a ladylike handshake. “I’m Anita. Let’s have you take the first fitting room and—not to be indelicate—get out of everything except your underwear. I’ll measure you so we know your size, and I’ll bring in a few possibilities.” The measurements taken, Anita brought in two sleek black dresses and a pencil skirt paired with a bright blue sequined top.

Manda loved all the outfits, but none would work for a cookout on the patio.

“See, you do know something about clothes,” Anita told her with a big smile. “I’m going to call down to the Lemon Tree, which has more trendy clothes. Carolee will take good care of you. But, before you go, keep in mind—when you get asked out to dinner by that special guy— this is the place for that perfect little black dress. And, between you and me, the second dress you tried—the one that showed off your legs—will be on sale June first. Now, you get dressed and I’ll make that phone call.”

When Manda arrived at the Lemon Tree a few doors away, Carolee greeted her. “Anita said you’re looking for a great outfit for a special cookout. Sounds like fun! Let me show a few things to get a handle on your taste.”

Manda laughed out loud. “Carolee, if I have any taste at five o’clock tonight it will be what you teach me in the next hour.”

“Listen, to start, we know from Anita that you’re a size eight with long legs.”

“That’s good?”

“Honey, that’s something most women would die for. Get your clothes off, and we’ll get to work.”

Manda worked her way through sundresses, flouncy skirts and peasant blouses, capris and skimpy tops, and something called a salsa dress. “I love the way the salsa dress moves, but I’m not a ruffle person,” she confessed. “When I came in the store, I saw a dress that reminded me of a sports bra on top. Do you know what I mean?”

“Sure, the racerback. That will show off your shoulders and you’ll love the way the skirt moves.” Carolee was back in no time with three new possibilities.