Twenty-Four Days

by Janet Albert

  "I always have a good time when we get together. Take a few Tylenol every three or four hours if you feel achy or hot."

  "And call you in the morning?" Jamie's eyes twinkled.

  "Cute. Just do what I told you."

  "Yes, Doctor. Will I hear from you anytime soon?"

  "I'll call you later this evening to see how you're doing."

  "I'll look forward to it." Jamie grabbed the cuff of Miranda's shirt and rubbed the fabric between her fingers. "Miranda?"

  "What is it?"

  "You've been so kind. I owe you."

  Miranda bent down and kissed Jamie on the cheek. "Pay me back by getting better. I'll talk to you soon."

  As soon as Jamie heard the door to her apartment close, she shut her eyes and touched the exact spot on her cheek where Miranda's soft kiss still lingered.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  "I'M GLAD YOU came over this afternoon. I haven't seen you all week," Valerie told Miranda as soon as she walked into the kitchen. "I'd give you a hug, but my hands are messy." She stood at the sink peeling a pile of potatoes.

  "Where's Tommy?"

  "He went out to buy some computer cable or some damn thing. Sit down and keep me company while I make dinner."

  "It smells like our grandmother's house in here."

  "Brings back memories, doesn't it? Tommy asked me to make a classic Sunday dinner like his mother used to make, so I'm roasting a couple of chickens. I don't think it'll be quite the same as his mother's, though."

  "Why not? You're a good cook."

  "I'm a much better cook." Valerie laughed.

  "That's a good one, Val." Miranda laughed. "He probably won't like it, then. You know how men are when it comes to their mother's cooking."

  "It's more like the overblown memory of it. In fact, most of their childhood memories are greatly exaggerated." Valerie turned and studied Miranda. "What do you know about men and their mothers?"

  "Not much, thank God."

  "Consider yourself lucky. We're having stuffing, mashed potatoes, green beans, and cranberry sauce. He insisted on the cranberry sauce."

  "Boy, you went all out. It's just like Thanksgiving."

  "Yeah, maybe I overdid it just a little. Want a glass of wine?" Valerie asked.

  "No thanks. I'll wait until we have dinner."

  "That's too bad. I was hoping you'd have a drink with me."

  "What do you mean, that's too bad?" Now what was Valerie up to? "I thought you told me you didn't like to drink wine while you were cooking. You said it made you too tipsy and you burned things and messed up the dinner."

  "That's all true, but I was hoping to loosen your lips with alcohol so you'd tell me all about your weekend playing doctor with your sexy new girlfriend."

  "Look at you with that devilish grin on your face. You are positively evil. First of all, I wasn't playing doctor, I am a doctor and second of all, it just so happens she really was sick. And, furthermore, just so we keep this accurate, she is not my girlfriend, so what makes you think there's anything to tell?"

  "I don't know, just a hunch. It's not like I can't recognize a serious attraction when I see one. Do you want to start telling me about it now or shall we wait?"

  "Hey, no time like the present. She was very sick and I went over to help her. End of story." If only that would put an end to her sister's inquisitiveness, Miranda thought.

  "Come on, there has to be more. Plenty more, I imagine."

  "Okay, I surrender. What do you want to know?" Valerie's persistence never ceased to amaze Miranda. Even when they were kids she'd been that way. When she got something in her head, look out. They were two years apart in age, Miranda being the younger one and in high school Valerie had driven her nuts, never giving up until she'd uncovered the whole story and never letting up until Miranda had bared her soul. "Get all your damn questions out in the open before Tommy gets home because I don't want to get into this with him. He doesn't need to know about Jamie."

  "It's too late for that, I'm afraid," Valerie confessed with a grimace.

  "Great. I suppose you told him everything?"

  "You could say that, but as you pointed out yourself, there wasn't much to tell. Now, here's what I want to know...wait, before we get into that, how's she doing? Is she feeling better? It was nice of you to help her, by the way."

  Miranda nodded. "I know and she's better, thank you. Now what do you really want to know?" Valerie wouldn't let up until she got what she wanted.

  "I want to know if anything happened. You know, happened."

  "Not unless you consider me sleeping with her all weekend a happening."

  Valerie gasped out loud. "What?" She covered her gaping mouth with her hand. "Are you teasing me? Because, if you are, I'm going to be pissed."

  "I'm not teasing you, but I do mean slept, literally. She was very sick, Valerie. What did you think I meant?" Miranda attempted to look innocent, as if she really didn't have a clue as to what Valerie meant. For just a moment, she almost felt ashamed of the pleasure she derived from teasing and torturing her sister.

  "I thought you meant you'd made love with her."

  "You're on to me, Val. I ravished her virus ridden, feverish body whenever she was conscious enough to participate and even when she wasn't." Miranda knew she'd gone too far, but the look on her sister's face was well worth it.

  Valerie turned, her hands on her hips. "Sure, go ahead and make fun of me. I just got excited for you, that's all. I think she's really cute and sexy and I want you to be happy. Is that a crime?"

  Valerie's pout could have won a pouting contest even though Miranda knew her sister was just pretending to be mortally wounded by her ribbing. "You know it isn't and I apologize for giving you a hard time, but you deserve it. You make me crazy. I think she's cute and sexy too. I like her more every time I see her."

  "Good. So you're really attracted to her?"

  "Yes" Miranda wasted no time answering. "Yes, yes, yes."

  "Well?" Valerie tilted her head to the side and raised her eyebrows.

  "Well what?"

  Valerie heaved a sigh. "Well, what are you going to do about it?"

  "I was going to ask her out. That's the reason I called her on Friday and that's how I found out she was sick. Now I'm thinking I'll have her over for dinner."

  "You should do that as soon as she's well. She'd love to see your new house."

  "How do you know that?"

  "Come on, Miranda." Valerie frowned. "She would, wouldn't she? Honestly, you're so hard to talk to sometimes, especially about things like this."

  "I'm sorry. You're right, she probably would. Look, she was quite ill and I was concerned, so I slept next to her. She's a nice person, Val, and I care about her." Miranda took a deep breath and made a decision on the spot. Maybe speaking the truth out loud to her sister would help her come to grips with it herself. "There's more. Whenever I was near her, I felt like I was on fire and I wasn't the one who had a fever. Honestly, Val, the way I feel about her, this irresistible attraction, it's a new experience for me."

  "Wow, are you serious? What about Ellen?"

  "I thought that was real at the time, but it doesn't even come close."

  "Wow..." Valerie shook her head. "She must be really special."

  "She is, Val. Now that she's back in my life, I can't think of a single reason not to see her and be with her. I'm tired of fighting her and the feelings I have for her."

  "Wow..." Valerie shook her head again.

  "Stop shaking your head and saying wow and tell me what the hell to do."

  "Miranda...honestly. I think you know what to do." Valerie smiled.

  "I don't mean that. What I'm saying is I'm not sure how she feels about me. I think she's fond of me, but I don't know if it's romantic anymore. Her feelings for me

  probably died long ago after the way I rejected her."

  "You were just being careful," Valerie reminded her.

  "Careful? That should be my middle name. Mira
nda "Careful" Ross. I'm sick and tired of being careful. I want to close my eyes and dive into the deep end of the pool. I want to forget about everything else and I don't care what happens. I don't even care if I get hurt again."

  "Do you have any idea how she feels?"

  Miranda slowly shook her head. "Sometimes, I think there's a hint of something in her eyes, but she's guarded and with good reason, I might add. She wanted me to be with her and she wanted me to hold her, but I don't know what it meant to her."

  "So now she's the one being careful."

  "Ironic, isn't it? At Eve's party, she told me she wasn't going to throw herself at me again and I know that's the kind of thing you say to protect yourself when someone's hurt you. What do you think I should I do, Val?"

  "I don't know. See her, be with her. If you were meant to be together, you'll find out. That's what I think, for what it's worth. I'll be here if you fall and get hurt."

  "You always have been." Miranda gazed lovingly at her sister. "After what Ellen did to me, if it hadn't been for you and Tommy..."

  "I know, Sis. I'll always be here for you. Count on it."

  "Thanks. I can't believe how this has turned around. She wanted me and I said no and now it's me who wants her. I want to make love to her until I can't see straight. I'd like to climb into bed with her and never leave."

  Valerie looked as stunned as a deer caught in headlights. "Whoa, now, that's way too much information. Even for me." She fanned herself with her hand.

  "You better move away from that stove. You're getting overheated." Miranda enjoyed seeing her sister flustered and red in the face. She waited just long enough to draw out the suffering then she said, "Relax, that's all the details you're going to get."

  "I'm relieved to hear that."

  "No you're not."

  "You're impossible. Don't you think you should call her now and check on her?"

  "I'll call her later. I can't wait to see her but I don't know when that will be. She's still sick, I've got a busy week ahead of me and I'm on call later this week. Maybe we can get together next Saturday if she's feeling better."

  "Next Saturday sounds good," Valerie said. "You can jump her then."

  "Valerie! For God's sake."

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  MIRANDA PEERED THROUGH one of the large downstairs windows. With one hand she held the curtain aside and watched as the rain fell steadily, just as it had all day. The weather had transformed the outside world into a blurry watercolor painted exclusively in shades of gray except for a fleeting flash of color from a passing red and yellow striped umbrella or the bright blue jacket of a pedestrian hurrying by. Without a doubt, come midnight, the city would look less like DC and more like London in a shadowy and vaporous old black and white Sherlock Holmes movie.

  She'd taken care of everything and now she had nothing left to do but wait. Dinner was warming in the oven, chilled wine sat waiting in the refrigerator and the table had been set for hours. All week she'd counted the days and the hours until she would see Jamie, never expecting that the hardest hour to endure would be the very last one.

  Tired of watching the rain come down, Miranda went back to check her preparations one last time. When the doorbell finally rang, she rushed to answer it, her heart galloping wildly in her chest. Her excitement was almost more than she could bear. To steady herself, she stopped in front of the door and took three or four deep breaths before she turned the latch and opened it. "Hello, Jamie."

  Jamie stepped into the foyer, shook her wet umbrella and propped it against the wall. Then she removed her jacket and shook it out. "I took the Metro, so I'm a little wet. I didn't want to drive because people drive like maniacs when it's raining."

  "Here, let me hang your jacket up for you." As Miranda took the jacket, she noticed the flattering top Jamie was wearing and how the swell of her breasts stretched the fabric across her chest. Just as she thought she saw a hint of nipple, she forced herself to turn away and hang the jacket on the coat rack. "Come in and sit down."

  Jamie followed Miranda into the living room and sat on the edge of the sofa. "Thanks for inviting me to dinner. You look really good and I'm happy to see you."

  "You look good, too." Miranda sat in a chair across from Jamie. "You look like your old self again. God, I hated to see you sick like that." Jamie did look good, physically, but she wasn't acting like herself. Her body seemed stiff and the atmosphere around her seemed to crackle with tension.

  "I know I've told you this several times, but I can't thank you enough for being there for me." Jamie's piercing blue eyes never strayed from Miranda's for a second. "I was so scared and it would have been a lot harder to endure without you."

  "I know you were." Miranda smiled gently. "I'm sorry I never had a chance to visit you this past week. I did think about you and I wanted to see you."

  "That's okay. You called me every day--that meant a lot to me."

  Miranda felt dizzy and weak in the knees as Jamie's hungry eyes bored into her. She drew in a long slow breath and tried to appear calm and collected, despite the fact that she was anything but. "I'm happy to see you. You look beautiful."

  "So do you, Doctor. I couldn't wait to see you tonight." Jamie smiled for the first time and looked around the room. "I love your house."

  "Thanks. Would you like me to show you around?" I couldn't wait to see you either.

  "I would," Jamie replied, jumping to her feet.

  "We'll start upstairs and then I'll show you the rest of the downstairs."

  THE UPSTAIRS TOUR ended in Miranda's bedroom. Jamie crossed to the dresser, picked up one of the framed pictures and examined it. "Hey, this is the picture that man took of us in Marseilles," she said as she placed it back on the dresser. She lifted one of the others, this one a picture of the two of them sitting outside the cafe in Athens. Tenderly, she ran her fingertips over the glass and after a moment, she looked at Miranda and smiled. "I love these pictures. We had a good time, didn't we?"

  "The best," Miranda replied.

  Jamie had to fight to hold back her tears as she turned to look at the pictures again. The precious memories preserved within the confines of those frames filled her with sadness. It had never occurred to her that they might have meant as much to Miranda as they did to her. Then why, she wondered? Why hadn't Miranda ever called her and how could Miranda have moved on with her life so easily when it had been so hard for her? "I'm surprised you framed them and put them out like this."

  "Why? I put them there so I could see them whenever I wanted to."

  "I framed my favorite one of you." Jamie winced, remembering the nights she'd spent staring at that picture, crying until her eyes were puffy and red. She had kissed it and held it to her breasts convinced that her broken heart could never be mended. Convinced that she would never again see the woman she had fallen so deeply in love with.

  "You did?" Miranda thought Jamie nodded her answer, but if she did, it was so faint a movement, she could barely see it.

  After Miranda had left the ship in Barcelona, Jamie had cried until she couldn't cry anymore. She had talked to Alicia until she had nothing left to say. She'd brooded and sulked and she'd worn her pain like a wound earned in battle. Then she just got numb. Numb the way you do when you finally accept as truth the one thing you dreaded facing the most. Now, here she was, standing in the bedroom within reach of the woman she'd spent months pining over. The silence in the room began to feel intolerable, so Jamie moved away from the dresser to the other side of the room and changed the subject. "I love this master suite."

  "I had them knock down walls and combine three rooms."

  "It's beautiful. Your entire house is beautiful."

  "It's more than I need, but I love it. I have to get someone to clean for me, though. I hate cleaning. It wouldn't be so bad if you didn't have to do it over and over again."

  Jamie ambled across the room and stood close to Miranda. "I hate it, too." She tumbled helplessly into the deep dark of Mirand
a's eyes, her legs jiggling beneath her like pillars of gelatin. She warned herself to calm down even though she felt as if she were losing control of her emotions.

  "My sister says that cleaning, if properly done, can kill you." Miranda laughed at her own joke, her laughter tinny and a decibel too loud. Taking Jamie's hand in hers, she said, "Let's go downstairs. I want to show you my new kitchen and get dinner ready."

  "Okay," Jamie said, happy to be yanked out of the desperate place she was in.

  IN THE KITCHEN, Miranda said, "I have a confession to make. I bought the dinner...I mean, I didn't actually make it myself. I'm afraid I don't cook very often or very well. Basically, it boils down to too little time and very little desire."

  "That makes two of us, but whatever it is, it smells delicious." Jamie ran her hand over the black granite counter tops. "If you ever do cook, this is the kitchen to do it in."

  "I put a lot of money into it. It's good for resale value."

  Jamie held perfectly still. "Resale? You're not moving away, are you?"

  "No. I just meant that I'll recoup the money if and when I ever do decide to sell the house." Every single word that had come out of Miranda's mouth since she'd said hello, sounded shallow and inconsequential. She wasn't sure exactly what she needed or wanted to say to Jamie, but she knew that none of this came close.

  "I'm sure you will." Jamie leaned against the counter and hung her head.

  "Want some wine, Jamie? I think I'll have a glass." Miranda needed to moisten her dry throat and calm her jangled nerves. Noting Jamie's enthusiastic nod, she poured two full glasses and handed one to her. "I hope you like red."

  Jamie nodded again and dragged her fingers lightly against Miranda's as she took the glass from her hand. She looked at Miranda over the rim as she took the first long sip and then she said, "This is very good."

  Good Lord, does she have to touch me and look at me like that with those sexy eyes? "We can eat anytime. Are you hungry?"

  "I'm starving."

  Jamie's eyes paved a path straight into Miranda's soul. She gulped some wine and swallowed it. "Then I think we should go ahead and eat."