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 two 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 Mendon's 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?"

Peggy let her attention be drawn from her daughter long enough to glance at Brian before saying, "I don't remember, Daddy. We gave some to a homeless shelter. I think we sold the others for over four hundred."

"See what I mean, Brian? I get called to see if I'm interested, and I hate to turn them down, but sometimes we can't get there in time, or we're not capable of removing the goods in the specified time limit. That's where you come in. Would you be interested in giving us a hand the next time I get a call? It could be lucrative for all of us."

Brian was speechless. So this was what being neighborly was about. He didn't know if he should be furious or grateful for being offered the opportunity to make some extra money. He could certainly use it. "Sure, I would be interested," he mumbled, hoping he wasn't getting involved in something illegal. Where do you dispose of one hundred and twenty-five frozen turkeys?

That was all that was said about the lucrative venture.

Peggy, having given up on her daughter eating more, was cleaning Amanda's face and hands.

"Here, you take her," Peggy said, surprising Brian by plopping the little girl in his lap. "You're the reason she wouldn't eat anything," she added, sounding annoyed.

Brian thought he saw a smile cross Peggy's lips as she began to clear the table. Was she warming up to him? But his attention was drawn to Amanda, who was squirming to get comfortable in his lap. She reached up to put her finger on his lips. He opened his mouth, and she laughed when her finger slid inside.

"You're going to have to start eating everything your mama offers if you want to be a big girl," he said.

Amanda just looked at him, grinning. He continued to talk to her while Mary and Peggy cleared the table. She fell asleep in his arms, only waking briefly when her mother came for her.

Brian thanked Mary for the meal, and left while Peggy was putting her daughter to bed.

Harry walked out into the night air with Brian, remarking that it looked like snow as the two men shook hands. Brian turned his flashlight on, and made his way across the frozen ground, between the strands of barbed wire fence, and to his small house where he enjoyed the first night in his new bed.

That was Monday. It snowed on Tuesday, and Brian didn't see or hear from his neighbors until Thursday night. Actually, it was Friday morning when he was awakened by someone banging on his back door. He was still half asleep when he got to the door.

"Dress warmly. Do you have boots?" Peggy was saying, shouting really.

Brian was dazed, not comprehending what she was saying. "We got a call. There's been a train wreck. Dress warmly. We'll wait," she said, starting to walk away. She turned back to see him looking at the truck. Harry was sitting in the cab. She made a shrugging gesture for her father's benefit, and returned to push Brian toward his bedroom.

He began to wake up when he realized that a woman was searching his closet. He was dressed only in his jockey shorts. Peggy was busy looking through his closet, tossing corduroy pants and a pair of boots his way.

"Where are your socks? Do you have a sweater or something?"

Brian pointed to a suitcase where he kept his socks and underwear as he stepped into the pants.

Peggy opened the suitcase, found a T-shirt, sweatshirt and two pair of socks. "Put these on. Is that your only coat?" she asked, pointing to the overcoat he wore to work. He nodded before pulling the sweatshirt over his head.

"It will have to do. Don't worry. With what we make tonight you'll be able to replace it," Peggy said, tossing the coat on the bed.

After making sure he had his keys, she pulled him toward the truck.

"Don't get chummy and I won't either," she said, as she slid into the bucket seat. The door was barely closed when Harry stepped on the gas, and they were flying down the long, snow-covered driveway.

Harry was wearing the same plaid coat and stocking cap that Brian had seen a few days ago. Peggy was dressed in boots, jeans, sweatshirt and a denim jacket. On her head was a bandana.

Brian wondered what time it was. He was aware that his ass was rubbing against Peggy's, but he tried to ignore the feeling it was giving him. He tried to concentrate on the possibility of being stopped, and the fine that would be levied for not being able to fasten the seatbelt.

"Did you bring your checkbook, Brian?" Harry asked.

Peggy turned to look at him, and seeing the blank stare on Brian's face, answered for him. "I didn't think to tell him to bring it, Daddy. It took long enough to get him dressed."

Brian thought he detected the hint of amusement in her voice. He wondered if she was annoyed by the way their asses were rubbing against each other.

"That's okay. I'll pay for both of you," Harry said. "You do have five hundred bucks, don't you, Brian?"

Brian didn't answer. He couldn't remember the balance in his checking account, but he was pretty sure it was below five hundred dollars. Nor could he remember how much cash he had in his wallet. He felt Peggy's eyes upon him.

"Yeah," he answered. What am I getting myself in to? Oh well, I'll go without lunch until ... when's payday anyway?

Brian estimated that they had been on the road for half an hour when he heard Harry dialing a number on his cell phone. "We're on our way. Don't let anyone else near it. What's the car number? Seven-one-eight-five?" He repeated the number before he hung up.

"Can you remember the car number, Honey?" Harry asked his daughter.

"Yes," Peggy said, folding one leg so as to rest her heel on the seat next to Brian's leg. This action pulled her butt down, slightly, to rest against his thigh. The vibrations of the truck were making it increasingly difficult for him to keep from becoming chummy.

It had been some time since he'd been this near a girl. Try as he might, he couldn't ignore her. He found that her indifference toward him was a turn on. He was relieved when they stopped next to car number 7185.

A representative from the railroad met them, explained that they were entering the wrecked car at their own risk, and made them sign a waver form that indemnified the railroad of all liability. Harry paid the man his asking price, one thousand dollars, and they went to investigate the contents of the boxcar.

It was turned on its side, having slid into a ravine. The distance from the road where the truck was parked to the rails was about ten yards, and the place where the boxcar rested was another ten yards, down a steep incline.

Brian was able to pull himself onto the side of the car, and with the help of a bar that Harry retrieved from the truck, break the padlock, and move the heavy door open, about three feet.

Harry tossed Brian a flashlight. "What did we win?"

"Teddy bears," Brian answered, pulling a carton through the opening. He opened the box, and handed one of the bears down to Peggy, who looked it over, approvingly.

While Harry returned to the truck, Brian pulled cartons of teddy bears out of the car. Harry came back with a hand truck and a few sheets of plywood, which he used to cover wet spots on the path leading from the boxcar to the truck.

Brian handed the cartons down to Peggy, who stacked them three deep, and Harry wheeled the stacks of boxes to the truck. Each carton contained eighteen teddy bears, and although they were not heavy, reaching up to receive them was awkward. Brian was impressed by the stamina Peggy displayed.

It wasn't long before the collection of boxes on the ground was way ahead of Harry, who was already huffing and puffing. Peggy offered to spell him, but he wouldn't hear of it.

Then, when Brian had to climb down into the boxcar and toss the boxes to the side of the car, the stacks of boxes on the ground dwindled. Realizing that he was sweating, he removed his overcoat. They worked at a brisk pace until Harry said he had a full load.

"I'll need the keys to your house, Brian," Harry requested, and when Brian resisted, "We're going to need a place to store this load out of the weather."

Brian reluctantly handed over the keys to his house. Harry left, and Brian was ready to go back to work when Peggy asked him to help her up. The way she said it reminded him of the way Amanda raised her arms when she wanted to be lifted. He reached down, and after a few failed attempts, she fell laughing on the side of the boxcar.

He went below and tossed the boxes through the opening. Peggy spread them neatly on the side of the boxcar.

"Water!" Brian shouted with alarm.

"How bad is it?"

"I can't tell. My flashlight is giving out," he shouted.

He didn't know that she had a cell phone with her until he heard her talking. "Dad, Brian says there is water coming in to the car. Bring us some flashlight batteries when you come back ... I'll tell him."

"He says to try and salvage all we can," she said, looking into the darkened space below.

Brian looked up, trying to visualize what she looked like, and thinking, she called me Brian. She knows my name. He went to work tossing the damp cartons to the surface above.