Miranda sipped the apple juice out of the tiny paper cup. For some reason it brought a memory of sitting in a Sunday School classroom. It had been one of the few times she’d gone, and her mother was still alive, big, round, and pregnant. She’d hugged Miranda when she dropped her off, and encouraged her to go play, even though Miranda started to cry. One of the teachers had brought her a cup of juice similar to this one. She’d drunk it while sitting in a chair, drumming her feet against the rungs as the other kids played with the toys. A little later she’d caught her mom peeking at her through the window in the door. Her mom had given her two thumbs up and then blown her a kiss.
Miranda hadn’t been ready to be a surrogate mom herself a few months later.
And Cassie had suffered.
She finished the juice and crumpled the cup into a ball, before walking into room 232. The oxygen sensor chirped as Cassie’s oxygen saturation dipped for a moment, magnifying the silence of the room.
“Hey, baby girl.” Miranda called to her sister as she grabbed the book from inside the patient locker. “Let’s finish our story, okay? Where were we?” She opened the book to the page with the corner folded down. Her voice changed into a reading tone. “Anne! Where are you going, Anne?”
Chapter Eleven Present Day
Miranda stood at the kitchen sink drinking a glass of water, unable to get the image of Cassie out of her mind, her fragile body lying so still on that sterile bed. When was Cassie going to wake up? She had no idea what to do next.
The porch door slammed and Jason entered the kitchen. Miranda cringed inside. She didn’t have the strength to deal with him right now.
Jason walked next to her. She turned to avoid him, not wanting to look into his eyes and see his anger. He rested his forearm on the wall next to Miranda’s dark head, pinning her in.
She froze, uncertain.
“Hey,” he whispered.
She glanced up at him.
His green eyes seemed to pierce her with their intensity. “I want to be mad at you. I want to yell and scream. But I can’t.” He paused for a second, exhaled slowly, the air soft against her cheek. “Because I’ve missed you so much.”
Miranda gulped. “I’ve missed you too.”
He leaned back off of his arm. His lips pressed together in a sad smile. Then he turned towards the fridge and wrenched open the door. Finding a soda, he popped open the top and took a long chug.
Miranda breathed in deeply to calm her pounding heart.
He left for the living room and sat on the couch. Miranda started to head up to her bedroom, then hesitated. Now it was her move. She bit her lip and spun toward the living room. It was time to stay and patch things up.
She moved over to the couch. Archer sat on his blanket on one end of the couch, leaving only the middle cushion free next to Jason. She slid down until her back rested against the front of the couch.
“What are you sitting on the floor for?” Jason asked. “Archer, get down.”
Archer thumped his tail, his black eyebrow marks wrinkled as if to say, You’re moving me, Master?
Jason snapped his fingers and Archer jumped off. Jason pulled the blanket from the couch and flopped it on the floor.
“Go to bed, Archer,” Jason pointed. The dog hopped back on the couch, this time on Jason’s side. Jason grabbed him to pull him off, but Archer flattened and went limp. “Oh for crying out loud. You are the most stubborn dog ever to exist.” Archer thumped his tail in agreement.
“Down! Now, Archer!” Archer shivered at the last word, and with a quick movement, hopped off. He went over to his blanket and turned a few times, clearly unhappy with its new placement.
Jason sighed and grabbed the remote.
The newly vacated spot had obviously been Archer’s for a long time. Dog hair coated the back and bottom cushion. She looked at her light skirt.
Jason raised an eyebrow. “What now?”
Miranda gave a bright, fake smile. “Nothing. Thank you for moving Archer.” She tugged the cushion out to flip it over, and a shower of coins and pens flew out with it.
Jason pressed his lips together and turned the television volume up higher.
Glancing at him from the corner of her eye, she shoved it back in and sat down. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, then cleared her throat.
Laughter erupted from the TV, grabbing her attention.
“You watch Family Matters?” she asked, surprised.
Jason relaxed deeper into the couch, and kicked his feet back on the coffee table. “Yeah, well it reminds me of my Grandpa.”
Miranda didn’t answer. Jason whistled briefly through his teeth and linked his hands behind his head, pulling his ratty white t-shirt tight across his muscular chest. “So, how was Cassie?”
Miranda studied her chipped nail polish. She’d been picking at it all afternoon. “She was good, I guess. The doctor says she’s making some improvements.”
Jason rubbed his jawline to scratch at the day-old stubble. “Yeah, she’s always good when I go, too.” He looked back at her. “Except she’s not so good. Not in the awake, living, and happy kind of way.”
Wincing, Miranda blinked a few times.
He licked the corner of his lip. “Yeah, sorry, that was too far.” He flipped the remote a few times in his hand before tossing it on the coffee table. “You want a beer?
“That sounds good.”
Jason stood up to get it. He twisted off the caps and indicated the porch with a tilt of his head. She followed him out.
The sky grayed as the sun dipped below the horizon. He sat on one end of the swing, and waited for her to join him.
This is it. Can’t run now. She perched next to him.
They rocked quietly together for a few minutes, enjoying the sun set. A pair of geese flew over the lake, honking at one another.
After a moment of watching, Jason said, “You know we were so lucky to have been found by Uncle Stew.”
Miranda thought back to her teen years in high school, a life that would have been so different if she’d ended up with Uncle Vince. She frowned at the thought of him. He’d never found them, though she doubted he’d searched very hard.
“The luckiest.”
He took a slug from his bottle. “So, why are you back, Miranda?’
“What do you mean? I’m here for Cassie.”
“What are you running from this time?”
“I’m not running from anything,” she said, tracing the wooden grain pattern on the swing arm.
“No?” He turned and studied her.
She shifted on the seat. “I deserve that. But I’m not on the run from anything.” She sighed and picked at one of her nails. The cuticle was ragged. “I’m tired of running.”
“I don’t know what you want me to do, Miranda.” Jason stopped the swing’s movement. “I’m trying really hard to accept your apology, and not be mad. You were my best friend, the only one left that I trusted in this entire world.”
Miranda felt her insides start to shake. She wasn’t going to be able to stop it this time. She tried to stand, to run back inside where it was safe to hide her tears. Jason shot a sharp glance at her. Gripping the swing’s arm, she held herself in place. Shame burned her cheeks.
“You were going to get up and leave just now, weren’t you?” His voice was low.
“Jason, this is killing me.”
He stood up and leaned against the railing. His face flashed with frustration and pain, and his knuckles turned white on the bottle. The muscles bunched under his shirt, and he hefted the bottle in his hand as though to throw it. Gritting his teeth, he slammed it back on the railing.
A ragged sob tore from her throat. “I can’t fix this. I knew I couldn’t. That’s why I didn’t want to come back.” Tears ran down her face, and she covered her face with her hands.
“Even now you’re hiding,” Jason said.
She pulled her hands away and clenched them in her lap. “Is this what you want to see?” she cried
at him. “See me with my mascara running, nose running, crying and out of control?”
“Yes,” he said softly. He returned to sit next to her, and a wave of his aftershave rolled over her as his hand stroked her back. “Yes, I want to see you be you, be real, and be okay with being weak sometimes.”
“I have never been weak, Jason. I was weak once, and the worst thing happened. I can’t do it again.”
“You can,” he murmured. “You are.”
“I wanted to come back, but I couldn’t face you guys. There’s a line you cross, when you mess up so bad you can’t come back.”
“We would forgive you. Again, and again.”
“I was supposed to take care of Cassie!” Her stomach churned inside of her, a heavy ball of guilt.
“Yeah, and you did for a long while. But, she didn’t want you to take care of her. She just wanted you.” He paused, and his hand stilled. “Same with me.”
“I’m sorry.” She reached for his hand.
He grabbed it and ran his thumb over her palm. “I already told you that I forgive you. I guess I just needed to tell you how I felt. I can hear it in your voice, how bad it was for you. Maybe as bad as it was for us. You didn’t trust me to be there for you. Makes me afraid you might feel that way again some day.”
“I won’t do it again, Jason, I swear.”
He exhaled deeply and rested his head against the swing. Slowly, they swayed back and forth.
“You remember,” his voice hitched a little with embarrassment, “all those years ago, you said you were my swan.”
“I remember. Swans are partners for life.”
“I know, it was stupid kid stuff.”
“No,” Miranda shook her head. “It wasn’t kid stuff. It was real.”
He reached over to where her skirt had raised, and traced the scar on her knee. “Is this why you didn’t trust me?” His eyes darkened with the memory. “I wish I could rub it away.”
“Why?” Miranda asked. “I love it. My cool war wound.”
“Yeah, but it’s a sign of a time I failed.”
“You didn’t fail.” Her leg grew warm under his touch.
He hesitated, then moved his hand away.
She rested her head against his shoulder.
His arm eased around her in a hug. “I’m glad you’re home.”
Chapter Twelve Present Day
Miranda ran down the stairs, already feeling disheveled for her first day at her new job. The night before she’d received the phone call that she’d been accepted as a receptionist at the local dental office. Luckily, her remaining skirt was still presentable.
The coffee had finished perking and was doing its last few burps into the pot. She stopped in her tracks as the dark-roasted smell rolled over her.
“Jason.” She stared hard at the coffee pot.
He looked up from his eggs. “What?”
“Do you think,” she started. “I mean, would it be okay if I got a cup of coffee?”
He glanced at her and then at the coffee pot. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Why would I care if you got a cup of coffee? Take it.”
Jason went back to his phone and crunched on his toast.
She opened the cupboard, dug around in the back, and gleefully pounced on her old blue Route 66 cup. “It’s still here!”
“Weird, it didn’t grow legs and wander off.”
Glancing at him quickly, she thought, And you didn’t throw it away. She smiled to herself.
“Don’t be thinking you’re going to be eating my food though. I’m not about to support you.”
“You know I have my own food. Maybe I’ll make dinner tonight.”
“Mmm, Toasty O’s. My favorite.”
“Better than Twinkies,” she muttered.
As she poured the coffee she felt a nudge against her leg. Archer panted his smile up to her as his tail wagged in happy swipes. She waggled her fingers down at him and he gave them a lick. Jason was absorbed with his phone. She glanced at the counter quickly, before swiping a piece of bacon. Cramming half of it in her mouth, she held the other piece out. Archer took it carefully, crunching as he ate it.
Jason raised his head at the sound. “Is that my dog?”
“Ermmm.” Miranda was noncommittal.
He glanced around the island counter. Archer licked his lips and stood panting for more from Miranda. She tried to gently nudge him away with her slipper. Jason gave a long blink. Miranda took a big gulp of the coffee, nearly spitting it out as it scalded her mouth, before hurrying to get her shoes on.
“See you tonight for some Toasty O’s,” she shouted, and ran out the door juggling the mug, her keys and her purse.
***
That night, Miranda pulled into the driveway, bone weary. The house lights shone through all the downstairs windows and never looked more welcoming. She exhaled a deep sigh and rested her head against the steering wheel.
The first day back on the job had gone okay, and she hadn’t made any horrible blunders, but the receptionist position was more demanding then she expected.
Then, after work, she’d hurried to the hospital to spend a couple of hours with Cassie, this time reading from A Wrinkle In Time. The doctors had filled her in on the latest MRI results. She didn’t understand everything, but the end result was that Cassie was improving. But how long it would take, still nobody knew.
Right now, though, she couldn’t wait to eat a bowl of cereal and fall into bed. And she was tired enough to consider skipping the cereal.
Feeling like her body was wading through water, she slowly climbed out of the Jeep and plodded into the house.
The scent of pepperoni greeted her when she opened the front door, and her stomach rumbled in response. She inspected the pizza hungrily. Half a pie still sat there in triangles of grease.
Jason was loading the dishwasher, the sleeves of his blue flannel shirt pushed up his tan arms. He smirked as she came in. “I decided to make dinner tonight. Out of pity. Those Toasty O’s you eat are just pressed sawdust. Go ahead and have one.”
“Thanks. I’m actually starving.” She grabbed a slice and took a huge bite before ripping off a paper towel.
“How was work?” he called out.
Miranda paused, startled at the question, and chewed quickly. “Awesome.” She hid her mouth with her hand as she talked around the pizza.
“Yeah? That’s good.”
Miranda chuckled at a memory of the forty-year-old male dental patient who’d taken a shine to her. “Nothing like getting flirted with by men whose mouths are so numb you can’t understand them.”
“Hey, that’s one way to play the game. Make the girl want to nurse you back to health.”
Miranda smiled and rolled her eyes.
He brought his pizza to the couch. Archer lay in his spot, his eyebrow bumps bouncing as he glanced up. Jason stopped cold and stared at him. With a soft wag, Archer jumped off the couch and slunk to the back door for Miranda to let him out.
Jason sat and put his feet up. After a few seconds he shifted and readjusted again. “It doesn’t feel right.”
“Err,” She flashed him a nervous grin. “Yesterday, while you were gone, I flipped the cushions and vacuumed it out. I thought I’d help out by cleaning.”
Jason narrowed his eyes and didn’t look pleased. “I wish you’d leave my crap alone.”
She froze by the door. “Sorry—”
Jason gave a heavy exhale through his nose. He turned on the TV before taking a big bite of his pizza.
Miranda twisted a piece of her hair and pulled it behind her ear. Slowly, she walked over and sat next to him. “So, Family Matters again?”
“No, I’m revisiting junior high years. We’re watching Saved by the Bell.”
“Ahhh, good ol’ Bayside.”
“Crap,” he muttered, looking down. He scooped the pizza sauce off of his white shirt and licked it off his finger. Then, setting the plate on the coffee table, he pulled both the flannel and the t-shirt
off and headed to the laundry room.
Miranda’s blue eyes widened at his broad, defined shoulders. Maybe Twinkies do a body good after all.
“So, did you meet anyone at the clinic that you used to know?” he asked on his way back with a clean shirt. He slid it over his head and smoothed his hair.
Miranda swallowed hard. Get a grip, girl. “Err, no. I did however, meet the most amazing woman who’s committed to taking me under her wing.”
“Yeah?”
“Her name is Claudia, and she runs the dental office like a super-star. Pretty much everyone jumps when she says anything.” Miranda shook her head. “And by ‘say’ I mean she has the sweetest back talk you ever heard. She could insult a lawyer and they’d thank her for the compliment.” Miranda pulled off a piece of the crust. “I also learned I’ll never get used to the sound of the drill.”
Jason stopped chewing. “Wow, you just made me sadder for you.”
“Good. Will you make dinner tomorrow night?”
“More pizza?”
Just then Archer reappeared at the back door, tongue wagging. He gave the door a scratch with his saucer-size paw to be let in. Jason opened the door, and the dog bounded in, covered in bracken and leaves. He jumped on the couch, planting muddy footprints on Miranda’s lap.
She screamed, holding her nose at the smell.
“Holy cow, Archer! What’d you get into?
They both stared at him, repulsed.
“I made dinner.” Jason said. “You get to bathe him.”
Miranda backed a step away with her hands up. “Oh no, buddy. Like you keep telling me, he’s your dog!”
Chapter Thirteen
~Homeless~
Jason was right—the train tracks had intersected with a road. The highway stretched out long before the three kids. Cassie and Miranda trudged ahead, following the white line. Jason lagged behind. The sun was straight overhead, beating down on the asphalt and the backs of their necks. None of them spoke. Instead, they saved their energy for the next step forward. And the next.
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