A Kiss of a Different Color

by Bettye Griffin

  “Of course not,” Jon replied easily. “It might be a girl.”

  “If you want to have a baby named after you, Jon, the surefire way is to have one yourself,” Jae said smugly.

  All eyes went to Miranda, and she squirmed in her chair.

  Miranda helped Jae with the cleanup after dinner while the others relaxed in the living room. They were just finishing when Geraldine came into the kitchen. “Could I get some more ice for my drink?”

  “Of course,” Jae said warmly.

  “I’ll take care of freshening Mom’s drink, Jae,” Miranda said. “Go out and join the others. We’ll be right there.”

  After Jae left, Geraldine said, “Your friends are all so nice, Miranda, but what’s up with Mon…Mon…”

  “Monthani. What do you mean?”

  “She has this way about her, like her nose is in the air. Plus, she was asking your father and I questions like we were on a shrink’s couch or something.”

  Miranda nodded. “She’s a psychology professor, so I guess she’s treating you like research subjects. Or maybe she’s just studying you two to try to learn more about my background. A few months ago she tried to set me up with her son.”

  “Her son? That doesn’t make sense any way you look at it. Doesn’t she know you’re with Jon?”

  “At the time she thought Jon and I were just friends.”

  “Well, that’s all well and good, but that still doesn’t explain…well, she’s fairly dark herself, but she still doesn’t strike me as the type who would be interested in setting up her son with a black girl.”

  Miranda smiled. “But her son is black. Or, to be P.C., biracial.”

  “Get outta here. That stuck-up chick laid down with a black man?”

  “Thirty-six years ago she did. That’s how old her son is.”

  Geraldine leaned against the counter. “Well, if that don’t beat all. She did say she was in an interracial marriage, but I just figured he was white.” She blinked, then snatched up her drink and rushed toward the arched doorway.

  “Mom? You okay? You got to use the bathroom or something?”

  “No, I want to get back out there. I left that woman talking to my Carlton. That was fine before I knew—” Geraldine left the kitchen, not waiting to finish her sentence.

  Miranda chuckled, then gave the granite countertops one last wipe-down before wringing out the dishtowel and draping it over the sink. After washing and drying her hands, she joined the others.

  The first thing she noticed was how everyone smiled at her, as if they had a secret she didn’t know about. “What?”

  “Miranda, dear, you didn’t tell us you and Jon have taken dance lessons,” her mother said.

  “Jon has just agreed to give us a demonstration,” her father added.

  Miranda took a seat. “This I have to see.”

  “Miranda!” Kathy exclaimed. “He can’t dance by himself.”

  She playfully covered her face with her palms. “No! I’m too shy.”

  Jon came to stand before her, holding his hand out. “C’mon, Legs, we can try out our routine in front of an audience.

  She removed her hands, and for the first time she noticed an exercise bench set up in the middle of the Gallaghers’ living room. “What about the music? Our routine is especially tailored to Dancing in the Dark.”

  “All ready with the laptop and attached speakers,” Brian said smugly. “The song from the movie is on You Tube.”

  Miranda pretended to collapse in defeat. “Oh, shucks. I’m out of excuses.”

  “Go ahead, Miranda,” her father urged. “Your mother and I would love to see you dance.”

  “So would I,” Monthani said eagerly.

  “Oh, all right.” She got to her feet and stood in the center of the room with Jon. “This is so embarrassing.”

  “You’re among friends,” Henry said jovially.

  Jon placed a hand on her shoulder. “We’re going to be performing at the competition, so you can’t come down with stage fright. Take a deep breath, and just concentrate on the music, just like we do when we’re home.”

  She looked at him, her eyebrows arched. “Would you care to tell me how it is you happened to tell my parents about our dancing together?”

  “Don’t blame me. It was Brian who asked how our routine was coming along.”

  “Oh.” Now she felt bad for having accused him. “Sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “Okay, you guys ready?” Brian asked.

  Jon gave the thumbs up.

  The music filled the room, courtesy of the speakers Brian had attached to his laptop. Hearing the strains of the song she and Jon had practiced dancing to privately soon made Miranda get caught up in the familiar magic. Her boots had a thicker, clunkier heel than her usual pumps, but at least she’d worn a skirt, even if the pleats didn’t flow particularly well. She and Jon moved together with perfect precision, she in front and he behind her and to the right, in a choreography that closely resembled that of the movie performance Miranda loved so much. Jon lifted her effortlessly over the exercise bench and then jumped over it with masculine grace, then repeated the action from the opposite direction.

  They ended with him lifting her for a spin, then slowly lowering her to her feet, followed by a dip as the music faded. For a moment Miranda heard nothing but the sound of breaths being taken in, then Brian and Jae stood up and applauded, followed by the Tais.

  “You guys have really gotten good,” Jae marveled. “It’s one thing to dance to Mellencamp, but what you two just did…it’s art.”

  “I had no idea you two could dance like that,” Kathy said, a sentiment echoed by Henry and Monthani.

  Jon’s steady hands righted Miranda, who looked at her parents, who seemed awestruck. “Mom? Pop? What’d you think?”

  Geraldine closed her mouth. “I’m thinking we should have sent you to dancing school. Miranda, Jon, that was fabulous!”

  “Like something out of a movie,” Carlton added. “Take a bow.”

  They promptly clasped hands, and Miranda did a curtsy while Jon bowed.

  “That prize is as good as yours,” Brian declared.

  “Miranda, I just can’t get over how well you and Jon dance together,” Geraldine said. The two of them waited in the car while Carlton first filled up the gas tank and then went inside the convenience store to purchase some snacks. “He’s so fluid. He reminds me of John Travolta, thirty years ago. That man could really move. I guess it’s not that surprising about your Jon being so good, not when you consider his family owned a dance studio. But you! You were wonderful!”

  “I always dreamed of dancing like they did in the movies,” Miranda confessed. “I just kept it to myself. I figured you guys would rib me about it.” She sighed dreamily. “Of course, anything with Jon in it is wonderful.”

  “You really like him, don’t you?”

  Miranda felt an urge to tell her mother the truth. “Mom…I’m in love with him.”

  “Does he feel the same about you?”

  “I’m not sure.” Miranda tried to keep the hurt out of her voice. “Sometimes I think he doesn’t believe in love.”

  “Well, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “I know you don’t. I’ll be all right.” She leaned her head against the headrest and stared up at the roof of the car. “I just wish I knew how he felt. Sometimes I get such good vibes that I get all tingly—” she wasn’t yet ready to tell her mother about the vacation she and Jon would be taking late next month—”and then other times I’m plagued by doubts. Not because of anything he says or does, but just…just because.”

  “Let me tell you something, Miranda. Men can be hard to read, even after you’ve been together for years. And sometimes they say or do things that can sting for years. I can still remember how bad your father made me feel when I wrecked his Riviera. I was coming down with whatever you guys had, and yet, when I called your father to let him know I’d been in an accident, the first thing he asked ab
out wasn’t whether or not I was hurt, but about damage to his car.” She fell silent for a moment, and Miranda could almost feel her mother’s pain. “I know you and Travis have heard us joke about it, but the truth is that when it happened it was like a slap in the face.” Geraldine breathed in deeply. “Now, I know your father loves me, Miranda. He just showed incredible thoughtlessness that day, to the point where I never forgot it, and I never will.” She glanced out the window and saw Carlton emerge from the store. “Here comes the love of my life now, bless his heart. You know, Miranda, I never in a million years would have put you with Jon. It’s not that I’m against it; I just didn’t expect it. But if he’s the one you want, then he’s the one your daddy and I want for you.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  Jon accepted compliments from Miranda’s parents about his house. “I’m glad you like it.”

  “I never knew anyone lived in a log cabin,” Geraldine remarked.

  He chuckled. “Miranda said the same thing the first time she was here.”

  When they returned from upstairs, he suggested that the Rhetts make themselves comfortable in front of the fire. Then he sought out Miranda, who had said she would get started cleaning up.

  She stood at the kitchen sink, washing plates, glasses, and utensils in hot, soapy water. In the privacy of the kitchen, he walked up to stand close behind her and nuzzled her neck, his arms encircling her waist from behind. “Why didn’t you just use the dishwasher?”

  Miranda leaned back against his chest, savoring his touch. “There’s not much here. We’ll use it for the dinner dishes. So tell me, what did my parents say about the rest of the house?”

  “Oh, they loved it.” He nibbled on her ear lobe. “Come on, I want you to sit down and spend some time with your parents. It’s already twelve-fifteen, and the game starts at three.”

  “Battle of the Dakotas,” she mused. “I think my parents will enjoy it. But let’s come home right after the game.”

  Jon squeezed her waist. “You wouldn’t be trying to avoid another hostile encounter between me and that player for the Wizards, would you?”

  She quickly rinsed the dishes with hot water, then turned to relax in his embrace, her head resting on his chest. “I guess there’s no point in denying it. It’s just that this weekend is shaping up to be perfect, and I don’t want anything to go wrong.”

  “Nothing will go wrong, Legs.” He lowered his face as she raised hers. They kissed with a hunger that belied the fact that they’d made love just hours ago. Jon didn’t even care that Geraldine or Carlton might walk in and see them.

  For the first time in his life he understood what real compatibility was. He’d witnessed that special connection between Jae and Brian from the first time he’d seen the two of them together, and it never occurred to him that he could have such a thing with anyone…but he had it with Miranda. He’d never felt so attuned to anyone in his life.

  Her suggestion that we keep close to home had actually worked out quite well. Winter was a fine time to be inside in North Dakota, and they kept each other company in every room of his house.

  In the kitchen they worked together to prepare spicy chilis and rich chowders, usually with a base of fish or seafood. In the bathroom they soaked together in the oversize tub, filled with bubbles and relaxing eucalyptus beads. In the living room they watched television with Stormy at their feet. And in the bedroom, they set the nights on fire.

  Their companionship even carried over to the outside, where they built an entire snow family, plus pelted each other with snowballs. Jon didn’t think he’d ever been happier. It made him queasy to think that for the first time in his life he’d fallen in love. Still, he was as resentful as she about their employer’s interference in their private lives that forced them for the most part to spend the majority of their time at home. After all, it wouldn’t be winter forever. By the time they returned from St. Croix at the end of April the harsh winter weather would be letting up.

  The question was…what did he plan on doing about it?

  He resolved to dig out his employee handbook when Miranda left to drive her parents to the airport in the morning. Relying on luck was foolish; eventually luck always ran out. Best to figure out what the consequences would be once their relationship became public, so he could formulate a plan.

  Chapter 27

  Jeff Johansson, Director of Human Resources, looked up from his desk. “Come in, Jon. And close the door behind you, before you sit, huh?”

  Jon did as he asked, then took a seat. “All right, Jeff. You want to tell me what this is all about?”

  “Jon, we’ve had some inquiries about you on the Employee Integrity Hotline.”

  He stiffened. Someone had reported seeing him and Miranda. Apparently more than one person, since Jeff had used the plural.

  “Actually, we had a few calls last December,” Jeff continued. “Another came in just recently. The ones in December said that you and physical therapy assistant Miranda Rhett have a romantic relationship. We didn’t pay too much attention to those. You two caused quite a sensation on the dance floor at the holiday party, and the other specific the callers reported seemed vague and possibly harmless. We do take these concerns seriously, Jon, but because the ramifications are so harsh, we don’t act in haste.”

  “What was the other specific you mentioned?”

  “I’m not able to say. The calls that come in are anonymous. If I shared what the callers said you might be able to identify them, possibly go after them. We want all employees to be safe from repercussions. But then we received a second report that cited more concerning specifics, and shortly after another that said you and Ms. Rhett had been gone for the same week of vacation. That was easy enough to confirm.” Jon leaned back in his leather executive chair. “So what’s going on, Jon? Is there any truth to it?”

  “Yes,” he replied. “But it was perfectly innocent. We met when we were paired together as students in a dance class, we didn’t know we both worked here. The reason both of us took the class was because we didn’t know many people in town. By the time we sat down and talked about ourselves in detail a couple of weeks later, I was, as they say, a goner. So I didn’t deliberately set out to break the rule. Things just developed.” He was curious that Miranda hadn’t mentioned being questioned. “Have you spoken with Miranda?”

  “She’s in with Candy right now. We like to question both parties simultaneously.”

  To prevent them from comparing stories, Jon thought angrily. What were they, murder suspects or something? All that was missing was the damn handcuffs.

  But he’d known it was coming. They’d been lucky to have gone this long without detection. It was early May, and since they came back from St. Croix they often went for long bike rides and stopped for something to eat.

  “So what happens now?” he asked.

  “Since you admitted it, the first thing we’ll do is see if Ms. Rhett says the same thing. If she denies it we’ll have a problem, since you’re saying one thing and she says another. Once we get the two of you on the same track, then…” Jeff shrugged. “In accordance with corporate policy, one of you will have to resign. I’m willing to let the two of you discuss it and decide who will be the one to go.”

  “I can tell you right now, the one to go should be Miranda.”

  Jeff looked amused. “Well, you didn’t have to give that a lot of thought, did you?”

  “It’s not what you think. I make more money than she does. I can support her.”

  “I see.” Jeff hesitated before speaking again. “So your relationship isn’t just the two of you playing footsie? You’d take care of her if she lost her job?”

  Jon took a deep breath. “I’m going to tell you how I really feel, Jeff.” He watched as the Human Resource Director leaned forward eagerly, then he let him have it. “I don’t feel that my relationship with Miranda is any of your damn business. I only said as much as I did because I didn’t like the idea of your thinking I’m rea
dy to throw her to the wolves.”

  The other man’s smile faded. “I thought no such thing.”

  “Don’t even go there, Jeff. I saw that smug little smile on your face. You like the idea of my discarding Miranda and taking up with someone who you think is more appropriate…and you know exactly what I mean by that.” Jon’s conscience told him he had said enough, but he was on a roll and was angry enough to express himself and let the chips fall where they may. “And if you haven’t figured it out yet, I think that rule against fraternization is just plain dumb. You had one director who decided to make some women nervous so he could flex his power muscles and get them into bed. So you fired him, as you should have. Why do the rest of us have to pay for it? I’m not looking to take advantage of Miranda, nor am I planning to exert any influence over her manager to make her star rise. And as long as I’m not doing that, I don’t feel that the company should be sticking its nose into my personal business.”