by CeeCee James
“Oh I don't know.” Miranda skipped down the step. “Probably the usual, Ham, eggnog, pecan pie.”
“Mmm,” he nodded.
“You?”
“Mom makes a huge fuss if we don’t all go to her place at Martha’s Vineyard. She decorates it to the nines. It’s kind of intense.” His dimples flashed. “I thought you’d like to come?”
Miranda climbed into the car, surprised. “Oh.” She pulled on her seatbelt and the car took off. Meet his family? “Wow, that’s nice of you to ask, but I couldn’t leave Cassie. I think we’re going to go hike around Rattlesnake Lake that weekend anyway.”
“It’s almost a month away. Maybe you could wiggle it in? I bet Cassie could find somewhere else to go. After all it’s not every day you get asked to the Vineyard. I’d invite her too, but then what message would I be sending to the family? Everyone just invite your plus ones, twos, and threes?”
The air between them went stagnant. Miranda opened her mouth, but at the surge of anger she didn’t trust herself to speak. He’d never understand that Cassie wasn’t a plus one or two, like some kind of burden. She rubbed her temple. Suddenly, this felt like it was going to be a long night.
Traffic was busy for a Friday night, and they crept along. Sparkling lights hung from ornate poles along the main street.
“The restaurant I’m taking you to is five star. The chef used to work at the Wolf Den. He’s just amazing.” Dylan shifted the car and reached over to rest his hand on Miranda’s knee. “You look gorgeous tonight, by the way.”
“Thank you,” she said. He rubbed her leg. Miranda bit her lip and stared out the window.
“So, what he can do with watercress and caviar is out of this world.” He stopped to let a few pedestrians cross at the crosswalk, all teenagers, ignoring the cars, dawdling. They laughed and joked with each other and met up with another group milling outside a storefront.
Miranda was about to respond when her gaze caught the sign of the building. Runaway and homeless youth shelter. TECH Teenage Crisis Hope.
She craned her head as Dylan drove past. Whoa…
“What are you looking at?”
“That crisis center.” She jerked her thumb in its direction. “Have you ever seen it there before?”
He glanced in his rearview mirror. “Nope, can’t say I have. Just what we need, more homeless teens in the city.”
Eyebrows arching, Miranda turned to him. “You’re kidding me, right?”
At her tone, he realized his mistake. “No, it’s not that. It’s not like I don’t want to help them. But most homeless teens—you know.”
“No, I don’t. Why don’t you enlighten me?”
He sucked in a breath. “Listen, Miranda. Sorry if I sounded harsh. It’s just that my business has been vandalized a few times and always by teenagers. They’ve broken into the back room and partied, leaving their garbage everywhere. They’ve caused some real destruction.”
Miranda deflated slightly at his words and faced forward. Calm down, no need to be defensive. “Okay, I see what you mean. It’s just that not every teen on the streets is there on purpose. It’s not exactly a glamorous lifestyle. Most of them don’t have a choice.”
“Yeah, I feel bad for those with difficult lives.” He glanced at her again. “And I love that you care.”
They passed another group of teens heading down the street, probably going to the same place. She looked down at her black beaded dress, her fingers gently drawing at one of the beads. How did I get here?
“If it helps,” Dylan said, “I’ll be happy to have my company donate to that center. A charity starting up like that could probably use it.”
“You’d do that?” Miranda asked.
“Yeah. In fact I’ll text Denise right now to send a check for ten grand.” He flashed her a grin as he grabbed his phone. “What do you think?”
Miranda smiled. “I think that would be amazing. Thanks, Dylan. That actually means a lot to me.”
“Good.” At the stoplight he quickly sent the text. “We should all try and help however we can.”
“And I’m sorry for the vandalism at your warehouse.”
“That cost me a pretty penny too.” He frowned. “I had to hire security to watch over the place.”
“I’m sorry. Kids are selfish sometimes, but I still have a huge soft spot for them.” She picked at her nail. “I had a few weeks where I didn’t have any place to go. I didn’t like the taste of homelessness I got.”
“Whoa, are you serious? Dylan shifted the car then glanced at her. “Wow, I’m sorry. You never told me before.”
“Hey, it’s okay. I mostly just tried to forget it. I mean, it worked out. But those kids back there just as easily could have been me. People don’t see you when you’re homeless. It’s like you live in the Twilight Zone. They just pass you by.”
“Yeah, but you got out of it. If they try hard enough, they can too.”
Miranda frowned. “I didn’t get out of it. I struggled and starved and barely made it, and that was in the summer. I can’t imagine what it would have been like in the colder months. I just happened to meet a man who gave the three of us a helping hand.”
“Three of you?”
“Yeah. That’s how we met Jason.” A heaviness rolled over her. She hadn’t heard from him since his last dumb text asking if she was over her temper tantrum. Where is this emotion coming from? Let it go.
Dylan’s lips narrowed at the sound of Jason’s name. “Too bad that guy never got it together like you did.”
Miranda’s pulse sped up as heat rose in her face. “I’m sorry I brought him up, but I don’t want to hear anything bad spoken about him. He was there for me when no one else was.”
“That’s what I like about you, Miranda. Your heart is pure. You see the best in people.”
“I’m not seeing the best in him when I say that. I don’t think you understand. He saved our lives, more than once. Seriously, let’s not bring him up again.”
Dylan nodded. “You got it. He’s definitely not worth the strife.”
Miranda sighed. “No matter what’s happened, I want him to be happy.” I want to be happy, too. She looked out the window to control her emotions.
A few blocks farther they entered a nicer neighborhood. He pulled into the restaurant parking lot. “Miranda, I won’t flake on you like he did. I don’t need to figure things out. I already know what I want.” He leaned over and his lips landed near her ear. “And what I want is you.”
She pulled away from him and his eyes narrowed.
“Dylan, you could have any girl you want. Why would you want a confused mess like me? Besides, I keep telling you that I can’t be more than friends right now.”
“How long are you going to keep playing this friend game? I don’t get it.”
“What?”
“You have your guard up and don’t trust me yet, and you should. Because I’m not going to hurt you.” He drew her into his arms. Even under the tailored suit she could feel his firm muscles. She should feel comforted right now, but instead felt like a cat being forced into a bath.
She gently pushed away and let out a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I’m just tired and maybe hungry. Can we talk about this later?”
He let out a groan. “Whatever.”
Miranda straightened in her seat, her attention caught by something out the window. “Hey, look! There’s that kid again.”
On the sidewalk across from them sat the homeless boy, eating something unidentifiable. His face hovered inches above a patch of dandelions, his eyes wide and innocent as he touched one.
“Dylan? Remember him? The one we saw digging in the dumpster.”
“Where?” Dylan’s head swiveled.
“Hang on. I’ll be right back.” Miranda climbed out of the car and slowly walked over to the boy. “Hi, there. What’s your name?”
The teen’s face became instantly wary as he clambered to his feet. His green jacket fell open, the metal zipper b
roken, revealing a dirty shirt.
Miranda stopped, afraid to move any farther and scare him. She held her hands palm down. “It’s okay. I just wondered if you needed any kind of help.”
A shy, simple smile spread across the boy’s face, now slightly pink from her attention.
Dylan slammed the car door. “Miranda?” he called.
The boy jerked his gaze toward Dylan. He ducked his head and scurried around the corner at a clumsy jog.
Miranda watched the teen leave with a sinking heart. The boy was thinner now than the last time she’d seen him. His jacket had a frayed hole in one of the elbows.
“Aw,” she said as Dylan walked up. “That poor kid.”
Dylan stared with squinted eyes in the direction the teen had disappeared. “Try not to be too worried. That crisis center is just down the street. He knows where to get help if he wants it.”
Miranda frowned, and allowed Dylan to grab her hand and draw her away.
They walked into the restaurant and soon were seated. Before the hostess left them Dylan held up two fingers. “Bring a couple of glasses of Cabernet Sauvignon, and hurry.”
Miranda raised her menu to hide the blush at his tone.
Dylan pulled down her menu.“Get the steak salad. You won’t regret it.”
The waitress appeared with their wine, and they ordered.
“So,” he said, lifting his wine glass. “A toast.”
Miranda lifted her own. “To what?”
“To hopefully not a repeat of what happened in Seattle.” His eyes glittered as he raised an eyebrow.
Miranda’s mouth dropped open. “Really? Is that necessary?”
“What?”
“That’s kind of a nasty toast.”
He took a sip without clinking her glass. “I’m just making my intentions known so you don’t feel like you have to play hard to get. You’ve made me work harder than I have for any other girl.” He grinned, his dimples flashing boyishly. “I have a confession. I was the one that drained your battery a few months ago.”
“What?” A cold shiver ran through her. Her mouth dropped open and she set the glass down.
“Yeah. Kind of crazy, but I thought it would be a good way to get some time alone with you. You’d been so stand-offish up until then.”
“What am I supposed to think about that, Dylan?” Shock resonated through her in tiny electrical jolts.
“That I liked you so much I was willing to try anything for that first date.”
“Hello? That’s weird.”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures.”
“I am completely freaked out.” I need to remember to always trust my gut.
Dylan sighed. “Honestly, Miranda, I thought you’d be flattered. I feel like you’re out to pick a fight tonight.”
Miranda pressed her lips together then took a drink from her wine, trying to calm the anger burning inside. Am I overreacting, or is this guy crazy?
“Wow! Listen to that rain!” Dylan exclaimed, his round face turning towards the windows.
She couldn’t hear it through the thick velvet curtains and muted conversation. I hope that poor kid found some shelter. The food came, tasting flavorless to Miranda. Dylan droned on and on about a commercial that had been filmed in his warehouse. She tried to remember to nod when appropriate, her thoughts running rampant in her mind.
Dylan paid and led Miranda out to the sidewalk. The rain had puddled on the pavement, transforming it into a giant smeary mirror that reflected the streetlights in long wavy ribbons.
As they walked up to the Audi something yellow caught Miranda’s attention. Stuck in the passenger door handle was a bouquet of dandelions. She scooped up the flowers, still damp from the rain, and glanced around quickly for the teen, but didn’t see any sign of him.
“You keeping those?” Dylan arched his eyebrow. Miranda nodded and brought them to her nose to smell.
On the car ride home, Miranda sat quietly, her thumb gently ruffling the flower petals. Just get home. I’ll talk to Dylan then. Maybe I really am destined to be a nun.
At her house, they both climbed out of the car. Miranda waited on the porch instead of opening the door and inviting him in like she normally did.
“You’ve sure been quiet tonight.” Dylan wrapped her into his arms and tucked her head under his chin. He squeezed her tightly before patting her on the back. Each pat annoyed Miranda deep in the pit of her stomach.
“So, what are we doing this weekend?” he asked, touching her cheek. She closed her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Miranda cringed inside and stepped away from his embrace.“Dylan—”
He frowned at her tone and reached for her hand, still clutching the flowers. “Don’t do it.”
She sighed. “We have to talk.” Be careful, be cool. You still have to see him at work.
“Don’t do it. You don’t want to do this.”
Miranda bit the inside of her bottom lip. The wind blew a leaf past them up into the trees. “I can’t give you more than friendship.”
“You seemed to do pretty well when we kissed. Or are you just leading me on?”
“Wow, Dylan. You kissed me!”
“Is this still about the car battery? I told you, I thought you’d be flattered. The whole ‘extreme lengths a guy will go,’ kind of thing.”
“I just think I need some time alone to figure things out.”
His brow raised in hurt skepticism. “What? You want your old bum boyfriend? The one who left you? That’s some prize.”
Anger cracked inside of her at his words. “Leave Jason out of it.”
“It would have been nice if Jason really could have been left out of it. Maybe then I would have had a real chance.”
“I tried.”
“He’s not here, in case you didn’t notice.” Dylan took as step closer and his face flushed darkly. “He left you. He didn’t want you.”
Miranda flinched at his words. “I don’t know what’s going on with him. But he did want me. I just didn’t want him because he was acting like such a jerk.”
Dylan took a step back in surprise. “This is the first I’ve heard of that. You told me he left.”
“Well, he came back. He has a new life now. You should look him up. He seems to run in your circle.”
He snorted. “That kid could never run in my circle.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Keep pining away for him. You’re never going to be happy.”
She didn’t answer.
Dylan smiled at her sardonically. “You’re going to regret this, girl.” He twirled his keys around his finger and looked up the driveway. Glancing back, he gave a mock salute. “I’m out of here.”
Miranda nodded. As he walked away, she let out a deep sigh. Her hand rested on the newel post of the porch, hewed into the silhouette of a swan. Jason had carved it last summer to surprise her. Her heart clutched with grief and emptiness. Had she made the right decision? Was she going to regret this? Jason was never coming back, and at this rate she was never going to move forward.
Then she shook her head. Are you crazy, Miranda? That guy killed your battery. For. A. Date. I don’t need a man to make me happy. I’ve got this.
28
Winter
The grocery store was busy when Jason entered. An escaping toddler with bright red cheeks careened into his legs as he reached to get a cart. The harried mother chased after her, shooting him a quick, “Oh, sorry.”
“No worries.” Jason answered as he finagled his list out of his jeans pocket. His partner at the Crisis Center, Chloe, had written it in her usual chicken scratch. Jason squinted to read it. Peanut Butter, bread and gobbleygook…
He sounded out the last item, trying to make sense of it. Giving up, he reached for his phone.
“Hello?” Chloe answered, out of breath.
“Everything okay?” he asked, as he wandered down the bread aisle. He’d never understand why there were fifty thousand different kind
s of white bread, and only one kind of good kielbasa.
“Yes, fine. I just dropped you. But I caught you again. Now what’s up?”
Jason grinned. She’s a cute girl. “What’s this last item on the list?”
“Baggies! Don’t forget the baggies!” Her voice held a tinge of panic. They’d discovered they were out yesterday when it was time to hand out the meals. The team had to make do by wrapping the sandwiches in plastic wrap from an old box someone had dug up. It had been a nightmare.
“Ahh, got it.” Jason nodded. “That all?”
“That’s it, boss. See you in a few.” She clicked off.
He jammed the phone in his pocket and picked up speed. Today he expected the center would be hit hard with kids looking for help. Thursdays were always especially busy. He had no idea why.
TECH was running great. He couldn’t help feeling pride when he saw the kids leave with resources. So far, he’d built an apartment in the upper section of the warehouse. Right now, it worked for him. Someday he’d build his dream house and garage. He had splurged on all new fishing equipment—Ugly Stick, yeah baby! And of course, he had his Porsche. Never giving that up!
Jason wheeled around the corner and stopped short. Miranda was standing there in the produce aisle. His breath caught in his throat, his heart pounded. Gorgeous. She must have just gotten off work; her pink cardigan was buttoned clear to her neck. He ducked behind the paper towel display and slowly peeked out, his heart pounding. This is ridiculous. I’m acting like a seven-year-old boy who likes a girl.
Miranda picked an apple out of the bin and held it to her nose. Her cart was filled with frozen pizzas and a box of Toasty O’s.
Jason’s lip bowed into a half smile.
Brushing her dark hair back from where it had fallen to the side of her face, she reached for a produce bag. Her blue eyes widened, and she glanced up as if sensing she was being watched.
He quickly dove back behind the aisle. What the heck, dude? Time to turn in your man card. He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm the emotions tumbling inside like clothes in a washing machine. Just walk away.
