Mending Fences

Jack grinned. “You can’t get rabies from a bowl. What was in here, a bat? Who caught it?”

Laura squared her shoulders, looking pleased. “I did. With your daughter’s help, of course. Welcome to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.”

Jack raised his eyebrows.

“Angie has also saved the macaroni salad from becoming a pile of mush.”

“How’d she do that?”

“Laura doesn’t know how to cook pasta.” Angie looked more amused than disgusted.

And Laura ignored the comment as if she’d known his daughter longer than just a couple hours. “We have turkey sandwiches, too.”

“Sounds great.” Jack looked around quickly. “I better wash up.”

Laura guided his way. “Down the hallway off the dining room. The door to your right, it’s closed but no one’s in there.”

Then Angie giggled. “Use lots of soap, so you get the bat stink off.”

Laura joined in with a soft laugh.

Jack nodded. It wasn’t that funny, but he clamped his lips shut and entered the bathroom. He didn’t want to ruin a private joke by making someone explain it. Besides, he was tired of trying so hard with Angie. He was just plain tired.

As he dried his hands, he thought about what Angie had said about Laura. How could someone not know how to make macaroni? The instructions were right there, easy as can be. He returned to the kitchen and took a seat at the retro metal-legged table with matching red, vinyl-covered chairs.

“Water, Diet Coke or prune juice?” Laura asked.

His daughter giggled again.

After all the arguing they’d done about the move, he’d nearly forgotten how much he loved the sound. After driving nine hours with Angie, he’d rather examine a porcupine. Now she laughed as if nothing had ever been wrong. He’d never figure her out. “Water’s fine. I can get it.”

“Sit, sit.” Laura gestured with her hands.

He sat across from Angie and they waited for Laura. Then Jack bowed his head.

“Oh,” Laura whispered.

Jack peeked up at her. “Do you mind?” He caught her quick glance at Angie, who rolled her eyes.

“Not at all.” She bowed her head and waited.

Jack took a deep breath. “Dear Lord, thank You for this wonderful food and bless those who prepared it. Oh, and please protect me from rabies and any bat stink I might have missed. Amen.” He reached for a napkin and a rumble of thunder echoed through the air.

“I think He heard you.” Laura scooped pasta onto her plate, and then looked at him. “I didn’t think you could make fun when you prayed.”

“God made us with a sense of humor, why wouldn’t He have one, too?”

Laura cocked her head. Her chin-length blond hair had been pushed back with a headband. It made her look young and vulnerable. “I never thought of it like that.”

He quickly looked away as he took the bowl of macaroni salad from her.

“I love thunderstorms,” Angie said, digging into the pile of sandwiches.

“Ugh, why?” Laura said.

“I dunno.” His daughter tossed her head and flipped the braid off her shoulder. “I just do.”

Laura took a bite of the macaroni salad. “Wow, this is really good.”

“Thanks. But I think it still needs something.”

Jack watched in amazement at the easiness between them. His daughter didn’t warm up to strangers. Lately, she didn’t warm up to anyone. “So, how’d the bat get in the house?”

“I left the screen door open,” Angie said.

Laura looked at him. “It was an accident. I think the bat was looking for a place to ride out the storm. We’re supposed to get a real soaker. We need the rain.”

Just then a flicker of lightning brightened the room and a crash of thunder shook the house. The fluorescent light overhead dimmed, flickered and then went out.

“There goes the power,” Laura whispered. “I hate it when this happens.”

Her admission surprised him. The bat in the house didn’t rattle her, neither did his daughter. Other than spider webs, Jack didn’t think Laura Toivo scared easily. Yet the sounds of a storm building outside made her anxious. “How long does it stay out?”

“Who knows?” Laura got up from the table, leaving her sandwich half-eaten. She rummaged through one of the kitchen drawers and pulled out some taper candles. Sticking a few into skinny juice glasses, she lit them and placed a couple on the table. “We’ve got plenty of candles if you’d like some to take to the apartment.”

“That’d be great.”

“Yeah, great,” Angie muttered.

“It’s only for a while, Ange.” Jack squeezed his daughter’s hand.

She pulled away. “Where am I going to put my clothes?”

Another flash of lightning followed by a deafening crack of thunder and Laura jumped. She focused on her plate, looking uncertain, almost shy. “It’s late and probably too dark to get unloaded in the apartment tonight. There’s plenty of room if you’d like to stay here tonight.”

Jack stared at her. They were practically strangers. “We couldn’t put you to all the trouble.”

“Really, it’s no problem.” But she sounded nervous.

Another crack of thunder boomed while lightning danced through the windows. The wind whipped and, with a roar, a deluge of rain fell followed by heavier beats. He heard the clicking of ice balls ricocheting off the side porch.

Angie ran to the screen door, water spraying in from outside. “Dad, we can’t go out there. It’s hailing.”

“Close the door, Ange.” He glanced back at Laura who twisted her napkin. She looked tense.

“To be honest, with a storm like this, I wouldn’t mind the company.”

He knew Laura’s invitation had more to do with her fear of storms than anything else. Cocky, capable businesswoman, Laura Toivo was scared of a thunderstorm. An unexpected urge to protect her assaulted him. But staying overnight under the same roof couldn’t be a good idea. He’d prefer to keep his attractive neighbor at a safe distance across the lawn and driveway.