Chapter 1: Meeting Amanda
January 2000
"Can I help you with that?"
Brian turned to see a man carrying a small child. He had been taken by surprise, and didn't respond immediately.
The man was wearing a plaid coat and a stocking cap. The child was dressed in a snow suit. "Let me set Amanda down," the man continued, opening the door to the small house and telling the child to wait there.
Welcoming the help, Brian hopped onto the truck and pushed the box springs into the man's waiting hands.
"I'm Harry Mendon. We live next door," the man said as he waited for Brian to jump to the ground and lift his end of the box springs.
"I'm Brian Driver, thanks for the help," Brian spoke for the first time.
Harry had to speak twice to make the little girl understand that she was to move out of their way. The two men placed the box springs on a waiting bed in the larger of two bedrooms. Brian smiled at the little girl as they went back outside for the mattress. She grinned, sheepishly.
When they had the mattress placed on top of the box springs, Brian and Harry stood back to admire their work.
"It's going to be better than sleeping on the floor," Brian quipped.
Amanda was straining to see what had captured the men's attention. Brian lifted her into the air, and dropped her on top of the mattress, making her fall onto her back, laughing.
"How old are you?" Brian asked the little girl. She looked up at him, puzzled.
"She'll be two in March," Harry said. "She doesn't talk yet, but you can see that once she does, she'll have a lot to say."
"I can see that," Brian said, depressing the mattress to make the little girl bounce on the bed. She grinned up at him, enjoying the attention he was giving her.
"We came over to invite you to have supper with us," Harry said.
This took Brian by surprise. He was apprehensive, but what the hell, how would he have managed the mattress without the neighbor's help? "Thanks, Harry, I could use a home cooked meal."
"It won't be much, but the wife is a good cook. Come over any time," Harry said as he lifted Amanda off the bed.
Brian followed his neighbors outside, and watched Harry hoist Amanda onto his shoulders. He must have said something to the little girl because she waved goodbye to Brian. He waved back.
~
It was an hour later when Brian knocked on the Mendons' door.
Amanda didn't have a word for what she felt toward the man entering the house. In fact, Amanda didn't know any words. She knew she liked the way he'd bounced her on the bed.
"My, don't you look nice. Is that a new dress, Amanda?"
Amanda was captivated by the way the man spoke to her, grinned at her, and made her grin back. She liked the way he said her name. She raised both arms in the air, wanting to be picked up. Brian bent down to oblige her, and suddenly she was looking into his eyes.
"She's quite taken by you, Brian," the older man said.
"Are you taken by me, Amanda?" the man asked.
Amanda didn't understand either of them. All she knew was that she felt the same for the man as she felt for her mama, or her 'gramps' or the lady known as 'ma.' She expressed her feelings in the only way she knew; she kissed the man on the cheek.
The kiss was interrupted by the sharp tongue of a young woman that appeared out of nowhere. "I'll take her," the woman said, extracting Amanda from Brian's arms. "Dad, take his coat."
"Brian, this is our daughter, Margaret," Harry said, stepping forward to help Brian with his coat.
"It's nice to meet you," Brian said to the young woman, but she was already retreating to the kitchen, with her daughter in her arms.
Margaret (Peg or Peggy) Mendon Stover did not share her daughter's attraction to the new neighbor. She would endure him for her parents' sake, but she was not inclined to be more than distantly hospitable. She didn't much like the way he'd captured her daughter's adoration.
The meal was simple, but hot and delicious. In addition to a heaping bowl of beef stew, Mary, Amanda's grandmother, had baked home-made bread, still warm from the oven.
Talk centered mainly on the neighborhood. Brian was all ears, concentrating on remembering the names of who lived to his east, the Browns, and on the other side of the busy road. But when Harry asked probing questions about his background, he was evasive. Why he had purchased a small, run-down house on ten acres was no one's business. He wasn't even sure why he had signed a twenty year mortgage for a structure that was barely livable.
He did, however, reveal that he was a recent college graduate, and was working in an entry-level position, taking customer calls in a support center. He used the job as his reason for relocating to the northeast from half way across the country.
Brian's attention was drawn to Amanda, who was seated in a high chair directly across the table from him. Her mother was trying to feed her, and when Amanda only wanted to exchange grins with Brian, Peggy glared at him. He got the message and concentrated on his stew.
Brian had a second cup of coffee with the blackberry cobbler that was served for dessert.
"I drive a truck for a living," Harry offered.
"I saw the truck," Brian said, attempting to act interested.
"I make short runs all over the state, but I refuse to be gone overnight," Harry continued.
"I don't blame you," Brian agreed, smiling appreciatively at Mary when she refilled his coffee cup.
Except for Peggy, his new neighbors were being mighty neighborly. Brian wondered why.
Here it comes, he thought when he saw Harry move his chair back from the table and take a deep breath.
"Every so often, I hear about distressed goods, a store going out of business or a truck turned over."
Harry laughed. "Remember the turkeys, Meg?" he asked, looking at his daughter. She responded with a meek smile.
"I got a call about this truck full of frozen turkeys. They were strewn all over the highway. There wasn't anything wrong with them, most of them anyway. Meg and I picked up one hundred and twenty of them, and the company gave us a receipt to show that they weren't stolen. Those turkeys cost us twenty-five bucks and...how much did you end up clearing, Megs?"