A Kiss of a Different Color

by Bettye Griffin

  “It’s been a long moment,” he said with a chuckle. “I met her back in September, and I’ve been trying to get next to her ever since. I’m embarrassed to tell you how long it’s taken me to get to first base. I wonder if I’m slipping.”

  “She might be a little put off by your reputation with the ladies, which I’m sure has followed you to Bismarck,” Nina remarked dryly. “But I think your bringing her home for Christmas gave you a lot of points for taking action and not just giving lip service, not just with her but for her family as well.”

  Jon was beginning to feel uncomfortable discussing Miranda with his mother. “Mom, why all the interest in my love life?”

  “Because you’re thirty-two years old and you’ve never had a serious relationship, and that’s not really normal. Jon, haven’t you ever loved anyone?”

  “Of course. I love you, Mor…and Mormor…and Sara. And I love most of the women I’ve been involved with.”

  “I’m not talking about your feelings for me, your grandmother, and your sister. Nor am I talking about those casual feelings that fade away after a few months. Haven’t you ever felt the desire to settle down, to share your life with someone?”

  “Mom, what would be the point? Look at our family history.”

  “I think that would make you more determined to find your Miss Right so you can be the exception, rather than ruling out marriage entirely.”

  He let out a loud breath, and Nina could tell he was getting frustrated.

  “But it’s nice to know you approve of my relationship with Miranda,” he finally said.

  “You know better than to think I wouldn’t, at least not based on her race. I was raised to respect all people on an individual basis. And my Mormor, your Mor’s mother, always said there was no prejudice in Norway.”

  Jon snorted. “There were very few blacks over there, too, I’ll bet, especially way back when my great-grandmother was young. The problem is that people who came to the States from Scandinavia often start thinking like Americans, and that includes disliking blacks.”

  “I didn’t raise you to think that way, Jon. Your friends were always welcome in my house, all of them.”

  “I know, Mor. And I thank you for being you and for raising me the way you did.”

  A smile came to Nina’s lips. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

  “I’m gonna get going, huh? Miranda and I are going to the electronic store to check out some post-holiday bargains. I’ll talk to you later, huh? And Mom, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

  “All right. Goodbye, Jon.”

  Nina hung up the phone. His expressed appreciation of her not instilling bias in him was comforting; still, she didn’t understand her son’s attitude toward marriage. She’d certainly never tried to sour him on the idea, in spite of there being no lasting marriages in four generations. She liked the idea of falling in love again. She’d dated over the years and had enjoyed a comfortable three-year relationship with a man who was also self-employed and worked long hours. He treated her with kindness and respect, and it was actually very similar to one of Jon’s relationships but of longer duration. It ended between them when he moved to Florida to pursue a business opportunity in a warmer climate. That had been two years ago, and there’d been no one since.

  Until last night. She’d met the grandfather of her pupil, a handsome man who oozed virility and strength. He’d come as a complete surprise, and she felt a spark immediately. He seemed equally taken with her, and when he saw her to her car when she left, he invited her to have dinner with him on Saturday, and she accepted.

  Instinctively she knew this man was going to become her lover…and that it would happen sooner rather than later.

  Nina smiled. Jon had said he wanted Miranda the first time he saw her.

  She might have more in common with her son than either of them realized.

  Chapter 24

  “I’ve been thinking about this flying thing,” Jon said after their lunch was brought to their table. Now that New Year’s was over—they’d seen it in quietly and romantically at Jon’s log cabin—they had gotten back into their routine of skiing Saturday mornings, followed by a meal, sometimes out and other times at Jon’s house. Saturday mornings Miranda packed an overnight bag and carried it with her when Jon picked her up, and they were together from Saturday morning until Sunday evening, when he drove her home. “I was always taught that the best cure for falling off a bike is to get right back on it again.”

  She made a face. “If the ‘bike’ is a metaphor for a plane, we just did. And my knees are still shaking. Face it, Jon. I now have a fear of flying.”

  “I was hoping the thought of a Caribbean vacation might make you want to try your wings.”

  “The Caribbean?” she repeated.

  He grinned at her change in demeanor from defeat to interest. “Yeah, St. Croix. Garrett has an oceanfront condo there. He usually rents it out, but he told me I can use it for a week anytime it’s not booked.”

  “That was nice of him.” Miranda tried to stay calm, but inside she wanted to break into song, just like in the old Hollywood musicals. A week in St. Croix with Jon…tropical sunsets, tall drinks garnished with fresh fruit slices and those little paper pleated umbrellas…Making love in a bed under the hanging of mosquito netting…

  After lunch they stopped at the supermarket to get the ingredients for the fish chowder they planned to make for dinner. Jon had just tossed a two-pound bag of haddock in the cart she was pushing when Miranda caught her breath as her eyes settled on a familiar face approaching. “Quick, Jon, keep walking without me,” she whispered. “I just saw one of my coworkers from rehab. I don’t want her to see us shopping together.”

  “I’ll go get my own cart. Call my cell when you think it’s safe,” he said as he kept walking.

  Miranda smiled at her co-worker and stopped to chat for a few minutes before moving on. She met up with Jon at the dairy section, where he was getting the heavy cream. “You get the potatoes and carrots,” he said softly. “I’ll get the bacon, plus some things we’ll need for breakfast. We’ll check out separately and meet outside.” He reached into his pocket and handed her keys. “Here’s the car key. Just get inside and wait for me.”

  She took the key he slipped her and was already seated in the passenger seat with the engine running to provide heat on the frigidly cold January day when he got in. “Well, Legs, that was close, but I think we got over.”

  Miranda let out the breath she’d been holding. “Oh, Jon.”

  He glanced over at her across the console. “Why do I have a sinking feeling you’re about to tell me you’re having second thoughts about us?”

  “No, I’m not going to tell you that,” she said quietly. “I want to be with you, Jon. It’s just that after what just happened I’m realizing that I’ll have to constantly be looking over my shoulder when I’m out with you. That kind of takes all the fun out of it.” He didn’t reply, and she sensed he didn’t know what to say. Suddenly all her frustration came pouring out of her with surprising force. “I think that whole corporate policy stinks. Just because one person misused his authority, they forbid inter-level dating and set up an employee integrity hotline so people can tattle on their coworkers…”

  “That hotline was in place before they put the new policy in effect, so that people could report thefts, people showing up for work tipsy, and other offenses anonymously.”

  “I still don’t like it. I’m a grown woman, Jon. I shouldn’t be made to feel like a two-year-old who has to be watched every minute, or a teenager who can’t be trusted. And most of all, going out with you shouldn’t be grounds for me to lose my job.”

  “It can cost both of us our jobs. And for me it wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “What?”

  He sighed as his hands draped over the steering wheel. “I wasn’t going to tell you this, but I really feel you should know. In Minneapolis I met a woman at a bar one night. She was about six o
r seven years older than me, the mysterious type. She said she was in the process of getting a divorce and didn’t want her ex to know she was going out with anyone. There wasn’t anything between us really other than sex. It wasn’t like what you and I have.”

  That was what hurt so much, Miranda thought. She and Jon genuinely liked each other and enjoyed each other’s company. Their desire for each other was strong, but the foundation of their relationship was so much more than just physical.

  They had everything that lifelong relationships were built on.

  Who was she kidding with that term? The word she was really thinking of was marriage.

  Another ingredient was required for a successful marriage as well, one she knew Jon didn’t believe in, but she did. What’s more, she felt she already had it.

  She’d fallen in love with him.

  It wasn’t fair, to fall in love with a man her job said she wasn’t supposed to date.

  She realized that Jon was still talking, telling her about the mystery woman from the time he still lived in Minneapolis.

  “I know it sounds shallow, but it worked,” he said. “That was all we wanted from each other. But one day as I was leaving her apartment and she opened the door to let me out, there was the man she was divorcing on the other side.”

  Miranda shook her head in confusion. “I don’t understand what that had to do with you losing your job.”

  “It seems she lied to me about her last name. Her real last name was the same as my director’s.”

  She drew in her breath. “You were having an affair with your boss’s wife?”

  “Sadly, yes, but I didn’t know who she was. Then I learned then that he’d been trying for a reconciliation since the day she left him.” Jon shrugged. “The next thing I knew I was being offered a separation package. It was the only thing my employer could have done under the circumstances.”

  She still struggled to absorb the enormity of his gaffe. “Uh…yes, I suppose so. How embarrassing for you both.”

  “No way could we work together after that.” He sighed. “So I started looking for another job, and that’s how I ended up here in Bismarck.”

  “Quite a story.” Miranda paused. “I hope that means you understand how I feel now.”

  “Yes, I do understand. But consider this. No one from work is going to show up at my house. I don’t care for the idea of keeping you tucked away out of sight, like a winning lottery ticket.”

  Miranda sighed. “I hate that idea, too. I’m a little spooked, Jon. But I guess we’ll be all right if we keep a lower profile…eat at your place after skiing instead of a restaurant, and dividing the shopping list in half when we go to get food in case anyone we know is there.”

  “Sounds fair enough. I do hope you’ll still want to go to the Wizards game on Friday.”

  “Sure. I know it’s silly, but I feel better going out with you at night.”

  Miranda looked around nervously at the crowd waiting to purchase tickets for the Wizards game. She was still a little apprehensive about going out in public since that close call at the supermarket. Brian and Jae accompanied them.

  Jon had traded in his trademark cap for a black wool skull cap that covered most of his blond locks, and Miranda’s hair was tucked inside a brown fedora. In spite of these precautions, which certainly fit the outdoor temperature that hovered at below zero, she still worried that someone from their job would see them together. She was pretty hard to miss in the crowd, which like anywhere else in Bismarck only contained a few African-Americans.

  “Do you really think it’ll be okay?” she asked him as they took their place in the line. She immediately took a step backward to let a couple pass through.

  “Miranda, we can’t hide indoors forever. What’re we going to do when the weather changes?”

  “When the weather changes?” She looked at him incredulously. “That’s a joke, right? Aren’t you planning on—” she stopped, continuing in a softer voice that Brian and Jae, directly behind them, couldn’t hear—”cutting me loose like a stray thread on your sweater when the last of the snow melts?” She took another step backward to allow another group of pedestrians to pass through. The line extended from the box office booth to the sidewalk before curving to form on the sidewalk. Still, a warning bell went off in her head.

  “Why is everybody crossing in front of us, out of all the people on this line?” he asked, sounding annoyed. “There are other people closer to the sidewalk.”

  Miranda noticed he hadn’t answered her question, but his agitation over the situation seemed genuine. “They’re not crossing in front of us,” she replied. “They’re crossing in front of me. As for the reason, take a guess,” she added sourly.

  “No.” The monosyllable told her that he immediately understood, but didn’t quite believe it could be race-related.

  “Welcome to being black in America,” she said breezily. “But, you want my opinion? It’s unconscious rather than deliberate. People look for a place they can break in and reflexively decide to ask me to be the one to step back and let them through.”

  “That’s awfully hard to believe, Miranda.”

  She saw a couple approaching from the right. “Watch. I’ll prove it to you.”

  Sure enough, after a quick glance at the line the man led his companion—probably his wife, since they were in their forties—toward where Miranda stood. “Excuse me,” he said politely.

  This time Miranda did not step backward, and Jon quickly intervened. “You know, sir,” he said with equal politeness, “the whole time we’ve been standing in this line, the only one people ask to cross in front of has been this lovely young lady. Now, I can’t imagine why she’s the one asked to step aside out of all the people on this line, can you?” His tone suggested he knew exactly why, and the color that rushed to the couple’s cheeks proved they knew it, too.

  “But what I do know is that it stops right here,” Jon concluded. “So we’re sorry, but you’ll have to ask someone else to step aside to let you through.”

  The woman’s husband steered her immediately behind them, where Brian stood embracing Jae from behind in the frigid February air. Brian’s cold stare made the couple keep going, moving up on the line to cut across someone else.

  Miranda slipped her arm through Jon’s. “My hero. You came to my rescue again, just like you did with that man at the stop sign.” She glanced around. “If there weren’t a bunch of people around I’d kiss you.”

  He leaned in to speak directly into her ear. “Later.”

  The one word sent a spurt of warmth throughout all the tributaries of Miranda’s blood vessels. She was already feeling pretty good, since for the first time Jon had indicated that he saw them staying together after the winter melted into spring. He hadn’t answered her direct question because of the incident with the people cutting in front of them, but she felt pretty confident of his intent.

  She was happier than she’d been in a long time. She and Jon got along so well, and their sex life was like a carton of TNT. She found the contrast between her brown body and Jon’s white one exciting, and she loved it when they threaded their fingers together during sex. Her fantasy of making love on that oversize sheepskin rug in front of the fireplace in Jon’s bedroom had become a reality, and a shiver ran through her just thinking about it.

  She enjoyed seeing the NBA developmental team play. She’d gone to a Bucks game once or twice, but the spectators here in Bismarck were just as enthusiastic as those in Milwaukee, a wonderful display of support and loyalty, since the Wizards were having an even worse season than their Milwaukee-based professional colleagues. Affordable ticket prices helped fill the Civic Center, for only the courtside seats—affectionately known as “Nicholsons” after actor Jack Nicholson’s regular presence at the L.A. Lakers’ home games—cost more than twenty dollars.

  They cheered as the Wizards gained an early lead against their opponents, the Maine Red Claws, that went back and forth, ending with win for th
e home team by a close margin.

  After the game Jae and Brian departed for home, Brian’s sudden onset of sneezing suggesting he might have caught a bug. Jon and Miranda stopped in at a bar near the Civic Center, where they settled at a table and ordered drinks. Jon immediately pulled his hat off, and Miranda did so only after determining that she knew no one present.

  It surprised them when several players showed up and interacted with the fans from their seats on the other side of the bar. Miranda found herself receiving double takes from several of the players, most of whom were young and black, and all of whom were tall. She didn’t object to being admired—and of course black women were as scarce in Maine, the home of the opposing team, as they were in North Dakota. She hoped Jon would notice as well. His remark from earlier suggested he wanted their affair to continue beyond the spring, and she had every intention of getting him to tell her precisely what he meant. In the meantime it wouldn’t hurt if he knew he had some competition for her attentions.