by CeeCee James
“Yes, you are, Danny. The Seahawks are lucky to have a fan like you.” He clapped Danny softly on the back.
Jason hoofed it around the local businesses to see if anyone might be willing to give Danny a chance. He finally found a place, Hanger’s Bar and Grill, that offered Danny a part-time job.
The Grill had been there for twenty-six years, with gouged tables and a dark planked floor. The walls were stained a sticky yellow from years of cigarette smoke, although new laws made it illegal to light a cigarette within twenty feet of the door. The owner, Mike, was a crusty old man who always dressed in worn Carhartts. His back pocket had a permanent white circle from carrying a can of chew. “It’s just cleaning the bathrooms and kitchen. Nothing glamorous.” He spit.
“Yeah, that’s fine.” Jason said. Later in the afternoon he rounded Danny up and walked him over to the Grill.
“Nice socks,” was the first thing out of Mike’s mouth.
Danny’s face reddened as his mouth stretched into an enormous grin. “I’m a real Twelve, sir.”
“That’s great. You’ll fit in fine here. Think you can push a broom and wipe stuff down?”
Danny nodded, his dark eyes following Mike’s every move.
“Welcome aboard.” Mike held open the back door for Danny, following after him with a cursory wave to Jason.
“I’ll come by tonight and check how it’s going,” Jason said and jumped down the cement steps.
* * *
That night, when Jason arrived he found Danny sitting in a wooden booth with a cheeseburger in front of him. The teen had on a new pair of jeans and a thick flannel jacket. Jason shot him a thumb’s-up and walked over to Mike standing behind the counter.
“New clothes?” Jason tipped his head in Danny’s direction.
“Kid earned it,” Mike said, wiping out a beer stein. “He’s a hard worker. He did a better job than my wife scrubbing the house on Easter morning when my mother is coming.”
“That’s awesome news.”
“Don’t go thinking I’m getting soft about the clothes.” He blinked, appearing exactly like a man with a soft spot. “I had some old stuff lying around.”
Jason bit back a laugh. Danny was about six inches taller than Mike, although Mike probably outweighed him by fifty pounds.
“I think this is going to work out. Not sure how to pay him though.” Mike set the stein on the counter and reached for another from the soapy water.
“We’ll figure that out,” Jason said. “It’s kind of new for me too.”
“The thing is, I do have a back room. Maybe he’d like to stay there. It’s still pretty cold outside at night. “
Jason sighed. “I’d love for that to work out. But we’ve got an issue to deal with because he doesn’t want to leave his pets.”
“Pets?”
“Yeah, he’s got a crow he calls Bill and a stray cat he feeds.”
Mike nodded his head and continued to wipe. “That would be a problem. Can’t imagine the health department being too excited about me having animals here.”
“Yeah. It’s been something we’ve been trying to figure out.”
Danny chortled along with the laugh track on the TV and took another bite of his hamburger. Jason squinted to see what he was watching. Saved by the Bell. He smiled, a kid after his own heart.
“Listen, you find a home for his pets, and he’s got a place to stay. Easy as that,” Mike declared firmly. He loaded the glasses on the shelf behind him. Jason nodded. Not quite as easy as Mike was thinking.
Jason thumped a double beat on the counter and stood to go talk with the teen.
“Hey, Danny,” he said as he slid into the bench across from him. Danny pulled his gaze down from the TV long enough to say a quick, “Hello,” before his attention was drawn again by the laugh track.
“You like working here with Mike?”
“Yes, I surely do sir. It’s a good job. He’s a Seahawks fan.”
Jason smiled. “I’m glad about that. I’m proud of you. You keep making me proud, okay?”
Danny nodded as he chewed on a French fry.
“And you know how to find me. You know where TECH is, right?”
Danny shifted nervously on the bench and nodded.
“You need me, come there. You don’t have to go inside. One of us will see you and come out. Okay? Deal?” He held out his hand to the teen.
Danny looked at it a second, and grinned. “High Five!” He raised his hand to slap Jason’s. Quickly, Jason raised his hand to catch the slap.
“All right, buddy. I’ll see you soon.” Jason lifted his hand and waved goodbye to Mike on his way back to his truck.
Outside, his breath clouded in white. Jason pulled up his coat collar and hurried to his car. How am I going to get this kid indoors?
In the truck he called Miranda. “Hey, babe. Good news, Mike and Danny seem to be getting along.” He went on to explain the housing idea Mike had and his concerns about Danny’s animals.
Miranda said, “I have an idea.”
Jason paused, all ears.
“Is there any way we can convince Danny to reconstruct the cardboard home for the animals? We could make a cat bed, and a special bird stand just for them. And he can bring food and check on them every day?”
Jason thought about it. “I don’t know how well he’d receive that suggestion from me. I’ll call Mike later and run it by him. Hopefully, as one Seahawks fan to another, he can do some convincing.”
“All right. You’re doing a good job by the way.”
Jason smiled in the darkness.
“I don’t know if I’ve said it, but I’m so proud of you.”
“Yeah, well, don’t get too proud yet. I don't know if this will work.” Jason started the truck, quickly jumping to turn down the radio that blasted.
“You’re doing the best you can. I think you’re awesome And you can’t stop me.”
“I think you bring out the best in me.”
“That’s not true, Jason. You did this on your own. You brought out the best in you.” Her voice was soft on the other end.
He squeezed his eyes with his thumb and fore-finger. Wow, he was becoming a sap. “What are you doing right now?” Jason ran his hand over his chest, and smiled. He couldn’t wait to see Miranda. He hoped she’d like the surprised he had planned.
“Me? Getting ready to eat dinner.”
Jason groaned. “Tell me it’s not Toasty O’s.”
In answer, Miranda crunched in his ear.
He could imagine her smile. “I’ll be over in ten minutes. And I’ll bring Chinese. If,” he paused with a wicked grin, “you’re still hungry.”
“Way to give a girl in a face mask and her pajama’s some warning. Make it fifteen, for crying out loud. I’m not a miracle worker here. And I like General Tsao’s,” she threw in before hanging up.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, he arrived at the house.
“I come bearing gifts,” he announced, carrying the bags to the counter. She came around the corner fresh faced and in yoga pants.
Jason reached for Miranda and tilted her head back for a kiss. She breathed in the woody scent of his cologne and wrapped her arms around his neck. Jason picked her up and set her on the counter, running his hands up her back. His hands traced the lines of her body until they rested at the curve of her neck. Stroking his thumb at the side of her cheek, he pressed against her, his mouth pushing her lips open, gentle, then firm. She shivered, so overwhelmed by his love, so taken away by the force of him, she felt she would surely come apart. “Where’s Cassie?” he murmured against her lips.
“Studying upstairs,” she whispered back.
“Good.” He pulled away still holding onto her waist. She gently brushed his hair off his forehead. His face grew serious, and he grabbed her hand and laid it over his chest. His heart beat wildly under her palm. Jason closed his eyes and swallowed hard.
Miranda held her breath as she looked at him, her fac
e losing color. “Is everything okay?” she gasped.
His green eyes darkened as he stared intently at her. “I’ve got something to show you. I don’t want you to freak out.”
Miranda swallowed and her spine stiffened. “Usually whatever follows, ‘don’t freak out,’ is never a good thing.”
Jason licked the corner of his lip. “I’m not saying it’s good or bad. It’s special. That makes it good. At least to me. But you don’t have to think it’s special. You don’t have to think anything about it at all.”
“Wow, what a build-up, Jason.” Miranda slid off the counter and wrapped her arms around herself. “At this point I don’t know if I should run screaming, jump for joy, or be nonchalant. Way to give me a clue.”
Jason gave a ghost of his half-smile. “Sorry. I’ve been thinking about this moment for a long, long time.” His hand caught hers and brought it to the hem of his shirt. Releasing it, he slowly drew his t-shirt up.
Her eyes traveled up his toned abdomen, stopping on his chest. Over his heart was a tattoo of a curving “S” scroll, entwined with its mirrored twin. She traced it gingerly with her finger. He stared down at her, watching for her reaction.
“It’s beautiful. What does it represent?” she asked.
“They represent swans.” His eyes softened. “Maybe if you squint.”
Her palm flattened over the tattoo and she squeezed her eyes tight. Don’t cry, don’t cry, she told herself, but there was no stopping her tears from spilling down her cheeks. “Jason.…”
“Hey,” he tipped her chin up. “You know why I chose swans, right? From when we were kids.”
She nodded her head, unable to answer over the lump in her throat.
“Open your eyes. You’re worrying me.”
Miranda opened them and stared up at him. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
A loud sigh escaped him and he crushed her to him. “Oh, thank God. I’ve been stressing you wouldn’t like it.”
“Why wouldn’t I like it?”
“Because they represent us.”
His words caused her to suck in her breath and she surrendered to the tears. “You’re breaking me here, Jason.”
“In a good way?”
“Always. Always. Always.”
34
May
The day couldn’t have been more beautiful. Birds chirped outside. Fat, pink blossoms on the trees swayed in the gentle spring breeze.
The dog barked nonstop.
Miranda held her hands over her ears for a second. “Archer! Cool it! What is your problem?” He barked again and scratched at the window. Waddling up the lawn were the two summer swans. They’d left briefly only to return two months later. Archer was excited to see them, probably craving a feathery snack.
She rolled her eyes. “Dude, not now. I have enough troubles.”
Jason’s surprise birthday party was supposed to be in one hour. Cassie was with Jason, taking him on a rabbit trail of errands. Miranda smirked at the memory of the horror on his face when Cassie told him her plans. “Why do I have to go?” he’d complained.
“How am I supposed to know what kind of spark plugs my car needs? This is your department, big brother. And while we’re out.…” her voice rambled on going over the list in her hand. He’d shot Miranda a look of pure misery as he trailed after Cassie to the car.
From the rear of the house came a large, mechanical growl. Miranda jerked, her eyes wide, and immediately cringed. The noise erupted from the washing machine, sounding as though it was walking across the house towards her. A violent metal-on-metal squeal cut off the growl. Heart in her throat, she sprinted to the laundry room.
Her feet sloshed in water as she neared the laundry room. “Oh no, no, no. Not today!” she cried and threw open the door. Water gushed through the opening, a dustbin escaping on a sudsy tidal wake. “Mother of—” A sorrowful laugh escaped her. She clung to the doorframe, staring at the disaster. “I don’t think I have enough towels to soak this up…” she whispered. “I don’t think there are enough towels.”
The washing machine gurgled again, and another gush of bubbly water exploded from beneath it. Her eye caught the electric vacuum still plugged in, it’s front end fully submerged, and traced the ripples back to her own feet. “Oh… this isn’t good.”
Miranda ran downstairs for the fuse box in the back entry way. She stepped over rows of Jason’s old boots and sidled next to the water heater where the box was located in the wall. Flipping open the silver door, she studied the breakers. The identifying words had long worn off of the labels, leaving greasy smears. She gritted her teeth in frustration and finally hit the full house breaker.
The house fell into silence as the hum of the refrigerator ceased. Miranda jetted back through the living room and glanced at the clock. Her eyes widened. “I’m supposed to be there in twenty minutes!” she yelled, taking the stairs two at a time. Halfway up she slipped on the wooden step and crashed on her shin.
Collapsing into a ball, she cursed silently, holding her leg. When the pain finally subsided she moved her hand to look. A long strip of skin rolled up like a parchment along the shinbone. Miranda closed her eyes. “Wow. Just freaking wow.”
Archer padded up the stairs and sniffed at her injury. “Yeah, now you want to help,” she muttered. Pulling herself up with the banister, she limped back to the laundry room.
It was dark in the room with the power off. She sloshed toward the machine. Running her hand along the wall behind it, she located the shut off valve and quickly turned it off.
Splashing back, she raced to the linen closet and emerged with armfuls of towels. Not even close to being enough. On the second trip to the linen closet she raked out the sheets, pillowcases, hand towels and even wash cloths. “Swimming in the river; sun on my head.” The lyrics to the song popped in her head and she instantly sang them. Girl, you are cracking up. Miranda threw the linens down on the water. How lovely that everything we own is now gross and dirty. She narrowed her eyes at the broken washing machine. And no way to clean them.
As she soaked up the last of the water, she glanced at the clock and saw it was already fifteen minutes past the hour.
Her leg throbbing, she hurried down the hall to her bedroom. Miranda yanked open a drawer to reveal a pair of jeans—paint-splotched from a house project—and two t-shirts. “Might have been a pinch behind in the laundry this week,” she muttered, pulling out the sock drawer. “Maybe this month,” she amended, throwing a thin-lipped smile to Archer. “Well. It won’t be hard to find something to wear.”
Miranda tugged the clean shirt on and eased the pants over her injured leg. She brushed her hair back and secured it with a ponytail holder, a few short pieces falling around her face. “No time for make-up today, Archer. I’m going out looking like the walking dead. Happy. Birthday. Boyfriend.” Pinching her cheeks, she grimaced at the mirror. “Hopefully all eyes are on him.”
She shoved her feet into a pair of sandals and scampered down the stairs. “Now where’s my purse?” The living room was gloomy and dark with the power off. The clock chimed the half-hour, and another colorful word flew out of her mouth. Calm down. Cassie isn’t going to bring him until she hears from you.
Racing out to the Jeep, she heard her phone buzz. She juggled it out, nearly dropping it as she unlocked the Jeep door.
Jason’s friend, Doug, wrote—Where are you?
“For crying out loud!” she yelled, knuckles turning white as she gripped the phone in a shaking hand. She jumped into the car. Flipping down the sun visor yielded a shower of hiking maps. “Not now one-hundred top list!” she shouted, and shoved them to the floor. As she backed up the Jeep, she attempted the voice to text application. “I’m so sorry I’m late! Disaster here, but I’m on my way.” She read the screen. “Sorry I’m late, Dinosaur here in my way.”
“Thanks Siri.” Miranda rolled her eyes and hit Send. Doug was just going to have to figure
it out. She didn’t have time to fix it.
Miranda whipped the Jeep onto the highway. Fifteen minutes later, her exit came up. Finally, with a gasp of relief, she pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot.
Lovely! The lot was already filled with cars she recognized. Don’t freak out, just suck it up. She tucked the stray hairs back around her ears and opened the door. Her purse fell face down on the parking lot tarmac. Miranda stared at it for a second. Kill-me-now. Biting off a scream, she chased after Chapstick, pens, and wallet, shoving them back into the purse. She snapped it shut and slammed the jeep door.
The maître d’ held the door for her as she sprinted for the entrance.
“Hi!” she smiled. “I’m here for a party. I know I’m so late.”
“Don’t worry.” He nodded. “You didn’t miss the guest of honor.”
Oh thank you, Cassie! Miranda grinned, pulling out her phone as she followed the maître d’ into the banquet room. She quickly texted—Bring Jason, I’m here!
The maître d’ opened the doors and, with a flourish of his arm, ushered her in.
The room was quieter than it should have been, so filled with people. “Hi guys!” she squealed, spying her friends. “You freaking can’t believe the day I’ve had. I’m sorry I’m late, but we did it! He’s going to be so surprised.” Her eyes caught the displays on the tables, and icy fear rushed through her veins. What are all these red roses here for? She whirled around to the maître d’, her hand on her forehead. “Something’s the matter. Do you have us in the wrong room? We’re supposed to have a bunch of Over-the-Hill balloons!”
He nodded at her words but made no reply. Confused she spun back to the group. “You guys! This is all wrong!” She waved her hands at the flowers. I shouldn’t have trusted Jason’s friends to decorate. I freaking knew this would happen if I wasn’t here. “Quick! Hide them before he gets here!”
Jason’s work buddies, Doug, even Claudia stared at her with blank faces.