Stepping Up To Love (Lakeside Porches 1) (25 page)

After La Bella, Manda spent quiet time at Lakeside Terrace. She started in her beloved studio apartment, pulling together casual clothes and supplies for herself for the next two weeks.

One of Justin’s messages told her he had reserved a suite for the two of them at an elegant small hotel in center city Rochester. Manda was glad to take him up on the offer. Sharing a suite would be a challenge, but it promised her a comfortable bed and secure WI-FI. Besides, Justin wanted to get to know her, and she needed him as an ally during Joel’s recovery.

Up in Joel’s apartment she went first to the porch where they’d shared a mushroom omelet months ago, the day of their first fight. So much had changed since then. Increasingly Joel asked her opinion about business at the Manse. She knew he was troubled about the college, but he was keeping that to himself. Maybe that was the reason he wanted to stay in Limbo land for so long after the accident. It must be a huge mess. Maybe Justin could help him with that.

The porch was bare on this winter afternoon—no table, no chairs, no tubs of flowers. Manda had felt about thirteen years old the day she and Joel first talked out here. She would turn twenty-three in a few weeks, and today she felt like a twenty-three-year-old woman with a purpose and a foundation. She thought about her bold statement to Joel that day, that he needed love in his life and someone to share the day. Now she was that someone.
Please, God, give us days to share. And nights.

The wind from the frigid lake forced her back inside. She double-checked the locks on the French doors and wandered into Joel’s bedroom. With a longing look at the bed, she wondered when they would be able to share it, how long until Joel was well enough to make love. She couldn’t think about it now; thinking made her frightened of how damaged his body was. She didn’t want to worry about the tests they were doing today and how he was holding up.

She wished she could be in Tompkins Falls long enough today to see everyone at the Friday night AA meeting. Instead, she was having a snack at Phil’s house with Gwen in half an hour. Then she needed to get back to Rochester, to Joel.

A stack of books on Joel’s bedside table caught her eye. A meditation book, a book of Celtic spirituality, and a thriller. She picked them up and went looking for a small suitcase to hold them. She added his terry cloth robe, some socks, and his laptop. She appropriated the body lotion and soap from the guest bathroom. On her way through the living room, the framed photo of Joel’s sister, Christie, caught her eye; she tucked it in with the robe.
God, I need you to do this with me. You know how scared I am. I need to believe in Joel’s recovery, and I need to do it with him.
With one backward glance at the cold, gray lake, she locked up.

Manda knocked at Phil’s front door and before she could say hello, Gwen and Phil enveloped her in hugs. They bombarded her with questions she couldn’t answer, except to say, “He was conscious enough this morning for them to do lots more testing, and they advised me to take a break. I confess I indulged in a little retail and spa therapy. And Justin is coming in on a plane from Chicago at dawn.”

Phil growled, “It’s about time. Where has he been?”

“Someplace in Africa, I think, but his itinerary was through Stockholm. He said not to ask.”

Phil shook his head just as Gwen called to them from the kitchen.

Manda smelled succulent roast beef. She raced Phil to the kitchen door and saw a feast laid out on the scarred wooden table. There lay a platter with the roast flanked by bowls of steaming potatoes, fresh cooked green beans, mashed butternut squash, and a jug of apple cider.

“Some ‘snack,’ eh?” Phil chuckled.

Manda stood with tears in her eyes until Phil pulled out a chair and ordered her to sit down. “You need this. Eat.”

“I need this.” Manda blotted the tears from her cheeks. “I need you guys. Phil, I’ve missed you so much.”

“So, eat, chickie,” Gwen commanded. “Not another word.

The dishes were piled high in Phil’s big old sink ready for washing when Manda heard a car door slam in the driveway. She looked out the window and spied a shiny new red truck.

“It’s Tony!” she yelled and made a dash for the door.

“Wear a coat,” Phil barked.

Manda heard him but didn’t care about a coat. She’d been longing to see Tony, to make sure he was okay, and to thank him for everything.

Tony stepped out of the truck, but at the sight of Manda flying at him he shrank behind the door of the cab. “Don’t hurt me. I know you hate me. Please don’t hurt me, honey.”

Manda skidded to a stop. “What? Hate you? Are you crazy?”

They faced each other in disbelief. Tony broke the spell with a grin. “You don’t?”

“No way. I’m so glad to see you. You look like, what’s with the beard?”

“It’s a great beard. But you look like a ghost, honey. I know thin is in, but Joel’s not going to like this.”

Manda teared up at the teasing.

“Hey, I’m just getting back at you for the ‘beard’ thing. Joel’s going to be thrilled to see you, however you look.”

Manda’s tears spilled over.

“Aw, honey, I’m making it worse. Come here.” He reached out for her with one hand and slammed the door shut with the other. Manda jumped at the noise, and Tony drew her into a tight hug. “It’s all going to be okay, honey. Relax.”

“You’re really okay, Tony?”

“I’m really okay. And I have a great new truck. Want the grand tour?”

“Come inside, you two,” Phil barked from the kitchen doorway.

“She wants a tour,” Tony yelled back.

“She wants pie, you fool.”

“Pie? Why didn’t you say so? Come on, let’s go get it.” Tony kept his arm around Manda’s shoulders as they picked their way over clods of ice and snow and pounded up the stairs.

“It’s seriously good apple pie. Gwen made it, I think.”

Tony’s eyebrows met over the bridge of his nose. “More like Wegmans, honey. But I’ll take your word it’s good.”

Phil ushered them into the steamy warmth of the kitchen and wrapped Manda in an afghan. He scolded Tony, “And you thought she wouldn’t have anything to do with you. I told you accidents happen, and it’s all in what you do about it.”

Manda nodded, her teeth chattering.

“You sit close to the oven,” he ordered Manda. “And eat another piece of pie.”

“I need ice cream,” Tony told Gwen.

With an indulgent smile, she deposited a smoking-cold scoop of vanilla ice cream on Tony’s steaming slice of apple pie.

“You made this?” Tony asked skeptically.

Gwen shook the ice cream scoop at him. “The pie, yes, the ice cream, no. Eat before you insult anyone else.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Tony dug in.

Manda picked out the apples and nibbled at them. “I am so full. I don’t know why I’m eating this. Is there more coffee?”

Gwen poured a fresh mug for each of them. “Decaf. You’re buzzed enough to stay awake.”

“You’re driving back tonight?” Tony sounded worried.

Manda nodded. “And staying at a hotel Justin reserved for us."

Tony gave a loud, long whistle. “Bet it’s fancy.”

“If it has a good bed and a decent shower, it will feel like heaven to me.”

“Manda, seriously, why don’t you stay with me tonight?” Gwen urged for the third time that evening.

“I need to be back with Joel. And speaking of, Tony are you the one that fixed it so I could see him all the time he was in ICU?”

“What do you mean?”

“Somebody told them I’m Joel’s fiancée. Otherwise I wouldn’t have been allowed to see him.”

“Wasn’t me, honey. Maybe your Higher Power is trying to tell you something.” He winked. “I’ll bet somebody had a ring all set for you under the Christmas tree.”

Manda gave him a soft smile and blew him a kiss. “Bet we’re waiting until I get my year.”

“You’ve already got—no, you don’t, do you? When did I twelve-step you in the old white truck?”

“Nine months and one day ago.”

“Very cool. Congrats. So how’s Joel doing? Phil says he’s conscious.”

“They’re doing a whole bunch of testing today, and I should find out tomorrow how he really is. Justin will be with me.”

Tony fussed with the last bite of crust, moving it back and forth his plate. “Wish it had never happened, honey.”

“I know. I do, too. But you saved his life, Tony, and—we hope—his brain.” Manda shuddered. “I can’t think about that right now. Hey, how are you? You were pretty banged up, too.”

“Ribs mostly. They’re still a little sore. Shoulder needs some more physical therapy. I’m glad you didn’t launch an attack on me out there.” He grinned. “You came flying at me, and I ducked for cover.”

“Are you hammering and nailing again?”

Tony flexed his fingers. “Good as new. Got work for me? I’m out until January.”

“Joel will need a ramp for a wheelchair for a while.”

“Up to the third floor?”

“Good point.”

Phil told them, “Maybe you can let Justin deal with all that, Manda, now that he’s finally deigned to make an appearance.”

They were laughing their way through the dishes when Manda thought to ask Gwen, “Were you able to get anyone to record a greeting or some good news?”

Gwen pointed to two DVDs beside Manda’s tote.

“Joel will love these.”

Phil ruffled her hair. “Getting dark, Manda. Time you hit the road, if you’re going to.” He held her coat, and she shrugged into it.

“Love you, guys. Keep those prayers coming tomorrow.”

“Always,” Phil promised.

Manda buttoned her coat, gathered her take-along bags for the hotel mini-fridge, and turned for one last hug from each of them.

“We’re with you all the way, kiddo,” Phil said in his gravely voice. “If I could drive, I’d have been camped out with you at the hospital.”

“The food’s way better here.” Manda kissed his cheek. “Joel knows you’re with him in spirit.”

Gwen added her parting thought, “Tell Justin that Gwen sends her regards. And don’t let him con you.”

Manda thought about that all the way to Rochester.

Manda studied Justin as he directed a burly porter to stack four jumbo suitcases on a cart. Taller than Joel, his brown hair going gray, Justin had the same confident stance, the same handsome profile, the same decisive gestures, and the same air of entitlement.  Dan had called him one of the Good Old Boys. It fit.

Dan was right, too; he must be sick. In a sad counterpoint to the privileged demeanor and mountain of jumbo luggage, Justin’s custom-tailored suit hung on him.

The bags secured, Justin looked around him, and Manda waved wildly to catch his attention.

His eyes brightened and his voice boomed in the early morning quiet. “You’re the spitting image of her, do you know that, lass?”

Manda laughed.
Where did the Irish brogue come from?
“And who might ‘she’ be, Justin?” She couldn’t believe she’d just met him, and here they were laughing together.

Justin lunged for her and gave her a bear hug he didn’t seem capable of. “Bridey Tompkins, of course. Joel’s grandmother. We all adored her.”

Manda stammered, “Wasn’t that the grandmother named O’Donohue?”

“Indeed. Bridey O’Donohue married Roland Tompkins. Their daughter Mairead Tompkins married my brother Joshua Cushman. Joshua and Mairead had two children Christina and Joel. There’s your genealogy lesson for Saturday morning. And as you know, all of them except Joel died in a crash many years ago. Joel has bad car karma, especially in winter. Do you know your mouth is open?”

“So Joel is Joel Tompkins Cushman. As in Tompkins Falls and Tompkins College?”

Justin rolled his eyes. “He tried to tell me you didn’t care about the money, but I didn’t believe him until this moment.” He sized her up. “We’re a couple of scarecrows, aren’t we? What’s next, Miss Amanda?”

“Just Manda. My sister is just Lyssa. Our parents were teachers, and they expected us to earn our A’s.”

“And I understand from Joel you did earn your A's.” He signaled for the porter to follow them. “Show us the way, Just Manda.”

Fifteen minutes later Manda eased the Volvo to a stop under the portico for their boutique hotel. A doorman sprang to their service, and a bellhop followed on his heels.

“Welcome back, Miss,” the doorman greeted her. He gave a smart heel click to Justin. “Welcome, sir.”

Justin set about dispensing tips, something they had not enjoyed from Manda.

A valet materialized, accepted Manda’s car key and gave her a half bow, just as the bellhop hauled the last bag from the trunk.

“Did you bring all your worldly possessions?” Manda joked.

“Everything packable.”

“Fortunately I saved the larger bedroom for you. I moved into the suite last night.”

“Good girl. You’ve saved me from a decision. I can’t make a single decision before noon.”

“Better rethink that. Joel’s doctors are meeting with us at nine o’clock.”

Justin regarded her seriously. “Well done, Manda. How shall I reward them for talking with us on a Saturday?”

“You mean, like, build them a cancer research center?”

“Something along those lines. What do they have for a rehab for my nephew?”

“The only thing I know for sure is there is a masseuse with healing hands right there at Joel’s spa at the Manse. She’s magic. I want her on Joel’s team.”

“So we’ll make him a suite there, put in a heated indoor saltwater pool, and—"

“Justin?”

He stopped and looked at her.

“Did you sleep last night?”

“Yes.”

“Shower this morning?”

“Yes.”