A Kiss of a Different Color

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A Kiss of a Different Color Page 11

by Bettye Griffin


  But of course she had to exercise restraint. Surely Jon wasn’t the only one from work whom Jae had invited to the party.

  She was saved from having to answer his question by a voluptuous redhead who appeared out of nowhere and threw her arms around Jon’s middle. Miranda stared at the woman’s form-fitting poodle costume, pale pink ballet slippers, and tights the same color with a perky tail protruding for the rear and curly white simulation of a poodle’s coat wrapped around her ankles, a matching pale pink leotard covered with more fuzzy white stuff, and a headpiece with floppy ears and a fuzzy crown.

  “Hey, you need to find your own hydrant. This one is mine,” she said to Miranda, and while she presented it as a joke, Miranda’s instinct told her she wasn’t kidding.

  Jon handled the situation with his usual good humor. “Hey Pebbles, take a look at what my hydrant says.” He pointed to the lettering across his chest. “Property of the Water Department. Not ‘Property of Pebbles.’”

  It was easy to figure out the source of Pebbles’s nickname. Miranda pictured her as an infant, her red hair pulled up at the top of her head with a little barrette, just like Pebbles Flintstone.

  Pebbles clearly didn’t like Jon’s response. “Singing a different tune now, are you?”

  “I was always a community fireplug.” He winked at her, and welcomed another woman in a dog costume, simply a black leotard, tights, and high heels. Only her headband with black spotted ears and a nose piece suggested a Dalmatian.

  Miranda had had enough. In the presence of the poodle and Dalmation she felt about as sexy as a two-year-old wearing Dr. Denton pajamas, which was actually what her costume resembled. She left Jon with his admirers and set off to find Chelsea.

  “Bow-wow,” someone whispered in her ear.

  She knew without turning around that it was Jon.

  “You’re the cutest pooch I’ve ever seen,” he continued.

  She turned around, unable to suppress her smile.

  “I’d like to rub your belly,” he said, his eyes glued to the dark brown spot that covered her front from chest to the top of her thighs, which represented that part of a puppy’s anatomy.

  “Don’t even think about it,” she said, her eyes nervously darting about to see if they were being watched.

  She stood waiting for Jon to come back from getting a refill of his drink when Monthani appeared out of nowhere and struck up a conversation. They fell into the subject matter of the current unrest going on in a section of the world.

  “Sometimes it’s hard to believe that this is still going on,” Monthani remarked. “Didn’t anyone learn anything from World War Two? As Hillary Clinton told me—”

  Miranda found herself impressed. “You know Hillary Clinton?”

  “Oh, yes.” Monthani replied with a breezy air that intimated, ‘Doesn’t everyone?’ “We met at an International Women’s Day event a few years back, before she became Secretary of State.”

  “That must have been exciting.”

  Monthani shrugged. “There’s not much excitement in the life of a college professor. That’s why I told my son to do something different. Someone in this family has to make some real money, I told him. So he got a degree in chemical engineering and has a wonderful position with Denver Oil and Gas.”

  “How very nice,” Miranda said politely.

  “Now, if he would just settle down and give me some grandchildren.”

  Jon returned with a fresh Coors, and Miranda pounced on the opportunity to get away from Monthani, who, personal acquaintance with Hillary Clinton aside, gave her the creeps. “Jon, I really need to check on Chelsea, and I know she wanted to meet you.” To Monthani she said, “My roommate. She doesn’t know anyone here. If you’ll excuse us?”

  “Jae, who’s Monthani?” Miranda asked. She figured that was a harmless enough question. She didn’t want to say anything that would insult her friend. For all Miranda knew, Jae and Monthani could be related, although Monthani’s complexion was somewhat dark to be Korean-American.

  “She’s a professor at the university. She reached out to me after Brian and I moved here. You see, we both belong to the N triple-A P.”

  Miranda took a moment to absorb that, thinking initially that Jae had said ‘NAACP,’ which wouldn’t make sense. “What’s that?”

  “The National Association for Asian-American Professionals. They don’t have a branch here in North Dakota, but members can look up to see who lives in their city. That’s how I know Henry Tai.” Jae tilted her head toward a handsome Asian man in his mid-forties whose black hair was streaked with gray. “The funny thing is that our people all came from different parts of the continent. Monthani is Thai, and Henry’s ancestry is in China.”

  “It’s the funniest thing. I thought I saw her staring at me, and then she came over and introduced herself. I had the feeling that she sought me out deliberately.”

  “I can’t imagine why.”

  “She seemed a little, well…” Miranda still felt uncomfortable.

  “Self-important? Haughty?”

  Miranda giggled. “So it’s not just me.”

  “No. But I try to overlook it. She’s really a brilliant woman, although I find Kathy Tai easier to relate to. She doesn’t feel she has anything to prove.”

  Miranda briefly looked in the direction of the Tais and was surprised to see that Kathy was Caucasian. “You don’t often see white women married to Asian men, do you?”

  “I think there’s more occurrences of the other way around,” Jae agreed. “But the world is becoming more and more multicultural. I guess Henry and Kathy were twenty years ahead of the trend.”

  Miranda wondered if Jae’s or Brian’s families had any objections about the two of them marrying, but she knew that would be too personal a question to ask.

  “Miranda, I almost forgot,” Jae said. “Brian and I decided just last night to drive up to Bottineau next weekend for the opening of the ski season. Why don’t you come with us?”

  “I’ve never heard of Bottineau, and I don’t even ski.”

  “They’re about two-and-a-half hours north of here—”

  “Wouldn’t that be in Canada?” Miranda hadn’t been out of the country since the more stringent travel regulations had gone into effect and did not have a passport.

  Jae chuckled. “It’s about ten miles from the border. They give ski lessons, and they also have tubing and snowboarding. We went up a couple of times last winter, and it was a lot of fun. It’s pretty basic stuff. Nothing fancy like the places in Aspen, Park City, or Jackson Hole that offer massages, but the hotel is clean, comfortable, and affordable.”

  “Gee, I don’t know. I never thought of myself on skis. Uh, is anybody else going?” Miranda didn’t know why she tried to be so coy—they both knew she meant Jon.

  “I asked Jon a little while ago if he was interested, but he said no.”

  Jae’s knowing smile embarrassed Miranda, telling her that she hadn’t been fooled about who she meant by ‘anybody else.’ She tried to save face by pretending she’d meant someone else. “Well, since Monthani isn’t going, maybe I’ll consider it. I don’t think I can take a weekend of her smug attitude.”

  “Monthani wouldn’t be caught dead at an ordinary ski site like Bottineau,” Jae replied drolly.

  Miranda faced her disappointment that Jon wouldn’t be there. She’d allowed herself to imagine, just for a few seconds, the scenario, ‘what happens in Bottineau stays in Bottineau,’ and imagined that she and Jon, far away from Bismarck and out of sight of any of their co-workers, had let nature take its course. Now that she learned he’d turned down Jae’s invitation, she wondered about his reasons why. Could it be that the robust, athletic Jon had never warmed up to the sport of skiing? That seemed unlikely for a native Minnesotan who liked sports. A better possibility was that he had found his Miss Winter and started the affair that would keep him busy until the spring.

  Miranda swallowed. Could it be someone he’d met here tonight
, like that pushy poodle?

  She chased the torturous thought away. Her life these days was all about trying new things, like the dance lessons that had brought Jon into her life. She’d always lived in a northern climate, so why not try skiing? She already owned a nylon jacket and plenty of sweaters. The ski lodge would provide her with boots and poles. What did she have to lose?

  “I think I will give it a try,” she said.

  At first it felt strange for Miranda to dance to pop music with Jon, a first for them. But she quickly got into it and realized that Jon’s gift for dance extended to the contemporary. She felt a lot more comfortable after Jae confided that she hadn’t invited anyone from work other than Miranda and Jon, adding that the Employee Integrity Hotline they used made her reluctant to befriend anyone from work outside of the office. “But Jon was irresistible,” she concluded with a laugh.

  Miranda had that same thought as the song she and Jon were dancing to ended, replaced by a slow jam. Jon pulled her into his arms, and she felt free enough to close her eyes as they swayed to the music.

  “Your costume is very cute, Legs,” he said.

  “Thanks. I think it was very sweet of you to base your costume on mine.”

  “I told you earlier why I did it…did it work?”

  “What do you want me to say, Jon?”

  His answer came fast. “Say you’ll come home with me tonight.”

  “No. But I’ll be over tomorrow for brunch, if the invitation is still on.”

  Chapter 12

  Sunday dawned bright and sunny, and at just after eleven o’clock, Miranda parked in Jon’s driveway and stared in wonder at his house in the light of day. She’d forgotten his telling her it was a log cabin. When he said that she’d immediately visualized an updated version of Abe Lincoln’s birthplace, but this log cabin was two stories high, and its prominent front windows gave it the sleek look of a ski chalet. It looked quite comfortable, and she found herself eager to see the inside.

  Jon answered her ring promptly, accompanied by a large, squat bulldog who’d started barking even before she rang the bell. They smiled at each other across the threshold, and Miranda noted that although they’d known each other for less than two months, this would be the first time they spent within a home environment. It was like taking their friendship in a new direction.

  An unknown direction, with an unknown result.

  “Come in out of the cold, Legs,” he said, holding out his hand.

  She crossed the threshold into that new, unknown direction, stopping to bend and tentatively pet the dog at the top of his head, a few inches above his eyes. The dog immediately quieted down and sat on his hind legs. “That’s a nice dog,” she said. She straightened and turned to Jon. “What a charmer! What’s his name?”

  “Stormy. ‘He’ is actually a she.”

  She nodded. “Bulldogs always look so masculine, I forget there have to be both genders to keep the species going.” She looked about and was instantly struck by the beauty of the inside of his home. “Oh, Jon,” she said breathily, thoroughly charmed by the combination of rustic and modern decor. “This is lovely.” A stone fireplace dominated the room, extending all the way up to the slanted roof. Two skylights plus an abundance of windows let in plenty of light. The highest set of windows stretched to meet the roof, coming to a point where the vaulted ceilings came together. A loft overlooked the great room. Instead of being covered with drywall, the walls consisted of pine planks, as did the vaulted ceiling with exposed beams. The huge great room incorporated both living and dining rooms and was sparsely furnished with comfortable navy and rust upholstered furniture.

  He slipped her jacket off her shoulders. “I’m glad you like it. Let me show you the rest.”

  Miranda stopped to study the carved African masks that decorated perhaps two feet of wall space between the first floor ceiling and the loft above.

  “Are those authentic?” she inquired.

  “Yes. I went on a safari a couple of years ago in Tanzania.”

  “Wow. That must have been exciting.”

  “It was fabulous.”

  She followed him past a staircase that ascended to the loft, beyond which lay a sleek kitchen, its stainless steel appliances, cherry wood cabinets, granite counter tops, and stone floor a modern contrast to the knotted pine walls. Two bedrooms, one completely unfurnished and the other filled with only a weight set and a wall-mounted television, flanked a full bath and made up the remainder of the first floor.

  The upstairs featured a sitting room in the loft, furnished with a love seat, desk, laptop, and printer, beyond which lay the master bedroom. The plentiful windows filled it with sunlight, and the white duvet cover and large abstract painting in hues of orange, yellow and brown hanging over the fireplace contributed to the bright and airy feel as well. But the focal point of the room was the bed, the largest one Miranda had ever seen. She’d seen king-size beds before, but this one looked even larger than that. It sat in a log frame that perfectly suited the décor of the house.

  She tapped the smooth wound footboard. “This is huge, Jon. Did you have it custom made?”

  “No. It’s actually a California king, which is a king bed with more length and slightly less width. I need it because of my height.”

  Miranda turned and found her eyes lingering on a generous sized champagne-colored sheepskin area rug on the floor in front of it. How many women had he made love to on that rug in front of a blazing fire, she wondered.

  “Stormy likes to sleep there,” he said. “At least until I put the fire out. Then she jumps on the bed with me.”

  Her cheeks burned. Had he figured what she had been thinking?

  “She’s my girl,” he said, bending to rub the top of the bulldog’s head. “It would be unbearable here without her these cold winter nights.”

  Just a line, Miranda told herself. Still, she couldn’t help wondering…what if Jon didn’t take advantage of the many opportunities for flirtations that came his way and was alone when not at work, dance class, bowling, or the gym?

  He tapped her shoulder. “C’mon, I’ll show you the master bath.”

  The en suite bath was dominated by an enormous old-fashioned claw-foot tub large enough for two, and the Jacuzzi jets inside it told Miranda it was completely modern. The bath also had a walk-in shower, also large enough for two; and a sculpted pedestal sink with a gently curved faucet.

  They concluded the tour by walking through his bedroom’s French doors that led to an unfurnished outdoor patio with a view of woods beyond his fenced back yard.

  “I’m all for trees, but not too close to my house,” Jon remarked. “It can get pretty windy here, and I don’t want anything toppling over and crashing into my roof.” He noticed her shivering. “But we don’t want to stand out here too long without coats.” He held the door open for her to return inside.

  Miranda felt a little disappointed. Part of her had hoped he would embrace her, hold her body close to his, look into her eyes…

  Yeah. And then what do you want to happen? She chided herself for wishing for something she wasn’t prepared to see through. But could anyone blame her for wanting to kiss him again?

  “I never knew a log cabin could be so beautiful,” she said simply. “Here I thought you were roughing it, and you’re living like…royalty.”

  “Not exactly like royalty, but it’s very comfortable. I closed in August, and it already feels like home.”

  “Do you plan on furnishing the empty room downstairs?”

  “No, at least not anytime soon. It can stay empty. If my family visits, they can use my bedroom, and the love seat in the loft opens up to a twin bed. I can just sleep on the couch, or get one of those air mattresses.”

  They returned downstairs. Miranda went first, and she instinctively knew that Jon was taking in her rear view. She was glad she’d checked her appearance from all angles in the simple skinny jeans, boots, and powder blue sweater she wore. She’d caught her hair in a
pony tail high up on the crown of her head and pinned the ends into a bun to protect her ends from the dry cold.

  She sat on one of the stools at his kitchen island, with Stormy resting contentedly at the stool’s base, and kept him company, sipping on a mimosa he prepared for her while he cooked: scrambled eggs, bacon, home fries, and pancakes.

  Miranda watched incredulously as he loaded the dishwasher. “The dishwasher? For just one meal?”

  “I’m just loading it up. I don’t run it until it’s full. Sometimes it takes a couple of days.”

  She chuckled. “I guess you’ve got plenty of plates.”

  “Eight dinner plates and salad plates. What the heck, I might as well use the dishwasher. It’s like anything else. If you don’t use it, you’ll lose it.”

 

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