Page 7 of Mending Fences
Mandy opened her favorite game app and moved the candy pieces from side to side. Out of her peripheral vision she noticed somebody with very nice shoes and dress pants standing beside her.
Danny. Every other man in the store wore jeans and tennis shoes, unless they were Amish. She raised her eyes from her phone.
He spoke as soon as she made eye contact. “I owe you an apology, I didn’t realize you were hurt bad. I mean if I had, I would have helped you. I thought you were faking it.”
“Why would I do that?” She fought the urge to say more.
Daniel sat down next to her. “I don’t know. I was sure you were with one of the land developers. But that’s before I realized who you were.”
“You remember me now?”
“Yeah. Your parting comment about Grandma Mae ...” He shrugged and gave one of those half smiles always on the covers at the checkout stands. “Did you get the photo you needed for your class?”
She moved a few inches away. He unnerved her—and not the way the coach did at school. “It wasn’t for a class. I needed the photo for my MFA project, and I only ended up with one photo, not as clear as I hoped.”
“MFA in what?” He seemed genuinely interested.
“Master of fine arts in visual arts, digital emphasis. That photo is all that’s standing between me and my degree.”Why is he being nice? Doesn’t he see the people looking our way?Too bad the boot and crutches kept her from joining Candace.
“Tell me about this project you’re doing.”
She fumbled with the phone before scrolling to a picture of the abandoned ’50s gas station out on the old highway. “I’m creating an ‘If Only ...’ theme using digital art to envision what the future could have been for various buildings if they’d had different owners or pasts. Like this old gas station on Highway 30. This is what it looks like today.” She swiped to another photo of the same gas station, modernized, with cars and people going in and out. “Had the station not closed, it might look like this. Or what if someone had turned it into a race-car museum?” She flipped to the next photo. Vintage gas pumps gleamed, and a family walked toward the door from an adjacent parking lot where a field now lay fallow.
Daniel leaned over the little screen. “How many of these have you done?”
“Five different buildings. The mansion was supposed to be the sixth and final piece. I only got one shot—usually I have fifty or more to work with.” She kept her voice even as she closed the photo app and scooted back. He hadn’t intended to sabotage her project.
Daniel’s face paled slightly. “Sorry. I should’ve handled the situation better. Your parting shot about Grandma Mae was perfect. But I was sure you were somebody else. Not a reason to treat anyone poorly. Even if you had been one of those leeches ... If I let you in to take photos close range, would that help?”
She smiled. “To be honest, new photos might save the project. I’m in enough trouble as it is.”
“What kind of trouble?” He leaned forward.
Mandy scooted another half-inch away. “The camera and telephoto lens will cost over $60,000 to replace. I can’t graduate until it’s paid off.”
“Doesn’t the school have insurance?” His eyebrows knit the same way they had when he was eight and she’d told him Grandma Mae didn’t have cable.
“My faculty adviser is considering what insurance will cover. But he suggested I write grant proposals.” For a moment, Mandy thought of hitting him up for a grant, but the request would be as laughable as it had been in Dr. Christensen’s office.
He checked his watch. “What if you come out this afternoon, say, around three, and I’ll let you in to take all the pictures you want.”
Mandy bit her lip. “I’ll have to bring my roommate. I can’t drive until I’m off the painkillers.”
Someone cleared their throat. “You ready to go?” Ice-blue curls framed the amused look on Candace’s face. She must have been standing there for a while.
“Daniel this is Candace, my roommate. Candace, Daniel.”
He stood and shook Candace’s hand. Mandy wished Candace were standing closer to her so she could smack the starstruck expression off her face.
“Candace, Daniel invited me out to take better photos of his mansion. Can you give me a ride around three?”
Candace’s gaze flicked from Daniel to Mandy and back. “I’m sorry. I have an appointment this afternoon.”
Mandy tried not to glare. When they’d entered the store, their afternoon was completely free. On the drive over, they’d discussed going to their favorite thrift shop in hopes of finding another vintage broomstick skirt to replace the one destroyed on the gate.
“I’ll pick you up if you trust me with your address,” Daniel said.
Mandy opened her contacts page of her phone. “What’s your number? I’ll text it to you.”
