An email notification popped up on her computer screen.
Please come see me. Bill.
She headed for Bill Rollins’s new office. He was one of the company’s up-and-coming executives and had worked closely with Mandy and the rest of the relocation team.
“Hey, Bill,” she said breezily. “What’s up?”
He frowned. “I just got your farewell email to everybody, saying you were leaving at noon today.”
“Well, yeah. Saggitt has finished its move and the final inventory report is done, so I’m out of here. My car is all packed and I’ve done my exit interview with personnel.”
“I thought you were staying.”
Mandy blinked. “Bill, this was a temporary job.”
He tapped his pen on the desk. “But we discussed that administrative position over a month ago, when we were still in Tucson. Didn’t you apply?”
She shook her head. “You mentioned the opening, but it wasn’t for me.”
“I don’t understand. It’s a perfect match with your skills and education. And we get along so well...I hoped if you were in a different division, then we could, uh, socialize. Outside the office.”
Damn.
Bill was a nice guy, totally gorgeous. And dull as paste. She honestly didn’t think she’d done a single thing to make him believe she was interested in more than a casual friendship. Still, she felt awful about his hurt expression. It might not be her fault he’d gotten the wrong idea, but it felt like her fault.
“Um, that’s really nice, Bill,” she said and shuffled her feet, “but I only took the job with Saggitt because it was temporary. I get restless when I’m anyplace for very long.”
He stared. “We’ve been in Phoenix for only three weeks.”
“It’s just the way I am.” She smiled weakly. “To be honest, my family doesn’t understand me, either.”
“You’ve never mentioned your family.”
“We’re not that close.” Her relationship with her parents was lousy at best, and she didn’t get along any better with her twin brothers.
“Do you have a job somewhere else?” Bill asked.
“Nope. I’m just going to drive toward the Pacific Ocean and see what comes up. It’s wonderful what happens when you aren’t tied to a schedule.”
Bill rearranged the pencils in his pen holder. Now she felt even worse—it was one of his nervous habits. “Why didn’t you send your email to everyone a few days earlier?”
To avoid scenes like this, she thought, wishing she’d sent her farewell message at 11:59 a.m., and then raced for the door. Only that would have seemed rude.
“I...um, heard there’s a tradition at Saggitt of doing a little party when someone leaves, and I wanted to save everybody the trouble.”
“Sneaky,” Patti Kessler sang out from the doorway. “But I’m too stubborn for that to work. I got your email and headed to the store for party food. Come on, Mandy, Bill, let’s go to the lunchroom. Everybody is waiting for us.”
It was a welcome interruption and Mandy eagerly followed. A lot of women would be thrilled to date Bill Rollins. She just didn’t happen to be one of them. As for staying in Phoenix, it was a nice city, but she was looking forward to cooler weather and tall evergreens. Some of the stories she’d heard about coastal redwood trees sounded fantastical, and she could hardly wait to see if they were true.
MANDY PEEKED THROUGH the door of City Hall’s “parlor.” Everything seemed in order, so she continued down the hallway to her office.
Mandy Colson
Senior Center Director
As always, the printed words on her office door made her smile. Who could have guessed she’d be hired to direct a program for seniors? Definitely not her. But she enjoyed it, though there wasn’t anything unique or unusual about the work. The program was probably the same in almost every town in the country. They provided a hot lunch on weekdays, held exercise groups, sponsored special trips and educational programs—all sorts of things. It was Mandy’s job to organize and oversee the programs, coordinate menus and purchasing, and do anything else that was needed. Sometimes she was like a juggler, keeping dozens of balls in the air, but that was part of the fun.
Today a group of women had gathered in the parlor for a sewing project. From what she’d overheard earlier, Dorothy Tanner and Margaret Hanson were already sparring—people in Willow’s Eve said they’d been rivals since the day Dorothy had been born, dislodging Margaret’s position as an indulged only child. Mandy suspected that deep down the sisters cared about each other, though a person might have to dig extremely deep to reveal it.
A soft knock sounded at the door frame and Mandy glanced up to see her next-door neighbor, Jane Cutman.
“Hi, Jane.” Mandy smiled.
“Good morning, dear. The coffee is running low and everyone wants you to make the fresh pot. Somebody else could do it, but they like yours best.”
“Sure thing.” Mandy jumped up and followed Jane into the parlor. The parlor was different from the senior centers she’d seen in the past, not that she’d seen that many of them. But mostly those spaces had been a little sterile. Here, the parlor was a pleasant room with comfy chairs and couches, a few small tables for puzzles or games, and a larger table for bigger projects or groups. It was an ideal social gathering place, which was probably the primary reason for a senior center.
She smiled at the women who were busily sewing and headed to the coffeemaker. The hot subject that morning was the new city manager, expected to arrive the following day.
“Except for Mandy,” said Dorothy, “it’s been ages since we had anybody new living in Willow’s Eve.”
“We’ve had babies,” Margaret interjected.
“Well, yes, naturally babies,” Dorothy returned. “I’m talking about new people who can converse with us on an intelligent basis without teething and learning to walk first. Tourists don’t count. They just spend money, fly kites and eat seafood.”
Since her back was turned to them, Mandy let herself grin. Margaret loved trying to get the last word in, but her sister wasn’t any wimp.
“And we’ve had some folks move here from Vicksville in the past year,” Margaret added.
“They haven’t joined into the community,” Dorothy snapped back. Margaret must have been doing the one-upmanship thing all morning and Dorothy had lost her patience. “They still drive to Vicksville for church and rarely attend our community events. The city manager will be part of the town.”
Mandy had misgivings about the new city manager. Things could change when he arrived. She liked Willow’s Eve the way it was. But at least she’d clarified that he wouldn’t be her supervisor. The town’s City Hall provided the space for the program—a large portion of the lower floor. But the program was independent since its funding came through a trust fund.
“You aren’t still worried about him interfering with us, are you, luv?” Lou Ella Parsons asked.
“No,” Mandy said, “you’ve all cleared that up for me.”
Before she’d learned about the setup, Mandy had wondered what would happen. The center had employed her after the old city manager left, and she hadn’t known if a new manager