Late Night Conversations

Honestly, with Gramsy keeping me busy all day and my nightly conversations with Miranda, I'd almost forgotten I had it, but now seemed like a good time to crack it open. Mira smiled and shook her head when I tipped the bottle of tequila toward her and took a sip as I settled back into bed.

"I talked to some friends, I mean really talked, for the first time in what felt like weeks."

I frowned at her answer because it reminded me of Anthony's visit. Plus, I liked being the friend she talked to. Then again, she did call me. Well, after having her little sister do it first.

"Papa helped the others with their school work. Between that and your grandmother sending over dinner, I actually had some time to myself today."

"Hey! I helped Gramsy." I decided not to dwell on Miranda's boyfriend and keep the conversation light as I took another sip of tequila.

"Yeah, we figured," Mira grinned. "Some of those pieces of pasta were awfully weird shaped."

"It's a lot harder than you think." I was relieved to see her mood shift. "And I kneaded all the dough." I was hoping Miranda was a happy drunk, or maybe even cuddly drunk, not that it would help with us on the phone.

'Down boy!' I told myself as I replayed that last thought. Apparently, the tequila was doing its job faster than I expected. I would have to remember to be careful. There was no doubt that I was attracted to Miranda and I was just starting to figure out how I felt about her, but now wasn't the time to talk about it. Besides, she had a boyfriend.

"My hero," Mira teased, and I couldn't help laughing. She joined me a moment later.

'God, I love the sound of her laughter.' The thought popped into my head and I couldn't deny it. The truth was that I loved most things about Miranda, even when she was prickly with me. I thought about what Gramsy shared about her and my grandfather. How they fought all the time, but how it was still the best time of her life.

'Time to put the tequila away.' I knew it had barely reached my system, but decided it was smarter to close the bottle and stop drinking. I did sneak one more sip before doing so. I glanced at the contents and realized that at least one of my 'sips' had been a bit more than that.

The conversation that followed bounced from topic to topic. Unlike the night before, it stayed mostly light, but there was an underlying current tonight that I couldn't explain. Maybe it was the alcohol, but something had changed. The thought brought to mind Gramsy's earlier comment about me 'having it bad' for Miranda.

In retrospect, it was sort of funny hearing my grandmother say that, but for once, I didn't feel like laughing. Mostly because it was getting harder and harder to deny.

Miranda had a boyfriend, was four years younger than me and was still in high school. Yet, when I talked to her, none of that mattered because she was also smart and funny woman, one that drove me to distraction. Well, none of it except her having a boyfriend. That bothered me. Hell, it bothered me more than I wanted to admit.

I may had opened the bottle of tequila one or twice as our conversation progressed, but only to keep my buzz. I didn't let myself do more than that. Miranda finished her second glass of wine and had a third, but she nursed that one for most of the night.

I didn't realize how long we'd been talking until I caught her yawning. I glanced at the alarm clock on the night stand. It was probably older than me and not necessary with my cell phone, but I wasn't going to tell Gramsy that.

"Oh wow! It's way later than I thought. It's time to call it a night. I need my beauty rest." Gramsy would expect me up earlier and ready for whatever chore she had planned. I didn't quite groan at the thought, but it was close. Miranda probably wasn't much better off. Her father told her she could sleep in, but I doubt her little siblings would allow that.

"You and me both," Miranda said, stifling another yawn.

"Like you need it," I snorted without thought. I didn't realize what I'd said until I saw the surprise in Mira's expression.

"Oh my! Davey, you must be tired. Either that or drunk. Was that an honest to God complement?"

Miranda was joking, but I realized that there was some truth to what she was saying. I spent so much time teasing her that I didn't let her know what I really thought about her. It suddenly struck me that at least some of my teasing was for exactly that reason. The discovery must have shone on my face.

"What?" she prompted.

"Nothing." It was the smart answer. I hadn't forgotten about Anthony or the fact that she was four years younger than me and still in high school, no matter how much part of me wanted to. The problem was that I wasn't prepared for her obvious disappointment. "I mean, you have to know your beautiful, right?" I immediately felt awkward because she had a boyfriend and I'd overstepped, so I added, "I'm sure you must hear it from Anthony all the time."

"I know what Anthony thinks about me," Miranda said with a surprisingly bland expression. "I'm more curious about your feelings."

"My feelings?" I repeated, stumbling for words. "Um..."

"You do have some right? I'm not reading all this wrong, am I?" For a moment I was stunned into silence. Part of it was the bluntness of Mira's questions, but mostly it was because I realized that the underlying current of our conversation that I'd been feeling all night might not have only been on my part.

"My feelings toward you?" I began, falling back to humor like I usually did when I was uncomfortable. "Well, you're a bit of a smartass." I took a breath and let it out slowly. Now was not the time for humor. "You're also beautiful, smart, funny and a good friend." I was a little surprised that I got the words out, but even more so at Miranda's reaction.

"Is that all?"

"What else is there?" She was saddened by my question. I could see it in her eyes. I couldn't have that so I quickly added, "I mean, what else could I say to a girl who has a boyfriend?"

Miranda was watching me carefully again. She did that a lot. It was like she could see right through me. It was annoying as hell, especially when I was buzzed like I was now.

"For the moment, answer as if I'm not dating Anthony." I was clearly not the only one feeling no pain. "What would you say?" Something in Miranda's expression challenged me. It wasn't that rare of an occurrence, but this time I knew I shouldn't accept it. Apparently, that was beyond me.

"You mean, other than everything about you drives me crazy?" I asked in reply, hoping I hadn't offended her. I should have known better.

"Yes, other than that." Miranda actually smirked. "I mean, it's nice to hear, but I could already tell that by the way you look at me." She paused, obviously remembering something. "You do a good job hiding it." Her smirk changed into a something different. Something, almost sensual. "Well, except for that first night I came outside and you didn't think I knew you were there."

My thoughts flashed back to that night. If I'm being honest, this wasn't the first time I dwelled on that particular memory. Miranda really had reminded me of some sort of primal goddess while she stared up at the starlight sky.

"I don't think I'll ever forget the sight of you standing there in the moonlight." My words made her smile deepen, but I could tell that I still hadn't given her the answer she wanted. I was at a loss for words.

"You're not the first guy to want me," Miranda said into the silence that followed. She might be a happy drunk, but she was also a bit more fearless than usual despite the possible ramifications of her pushing. "I want to know how you feel about me, not just my body."

"You did hear me say you were smart, funny and a good friend, right?" I was stalling and we both knew it. I had no idea why she was putting me on the spot. I had even less idea why I was trying to hide what I really felt about her.

Maybe it was because we were both buzzed, if not out and out drunk. Or maybe it was because of Anthony. Although, she'd taken him out of the conversation for the moment. Maybe, I was just afraid. This was all happening so fast.

How much of it was real? And how much of it was dealing with the stress of the moment? The Coronavirus was affecting everyone, but Miranda's family more than most. They were on the front lines with her mom being a nurse and her dad volunteering at the rescue squad.

The smart thing to do was to stay quiet and wait to see how we both felt once things returned to normal...if they ever did. The problem was that Miranda was watching me on Facetime, silently waiting for me to continue. There was no way I would have been able to resist telling her how I truly felt if we were in person.

"I guess if you didn't have a boyfriend and I allowed myself to think of you as something more than a friend, then I would say...well, that I care for you. I care for you a lot. Definitely more than I should." Apparently, even seeing her on a small screen was too much for me to keep my mouth shut, but at least I hadn't said the L word.

It was the best I could offer. I was scared that Miranda would press me and ask how much I cared, mostly because I wasn't sure what I would answer, or maybe because I was. Instead, she smiled and nodded, accepting my answer for what it was. That didn't mean we were done talking. I could see that from the way she was watching me.

"Davey, tell me something," Miranda began slowly. "Do you believe in love at first sight?"

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "Gramsy and I were talking about it earlier today." I hadn't shared what happened with my grandmother and her box of pictures yet. Frankly, I was still digesting it all.

"You and Gramsy were talking about love?" It struck me as odd that this was the first time I'd ever remembered Miranda using my nickname for my grandmother.

"Apparently, in her own words, I've 'got it bad'." I said it because I was nervous and I thought it was funny, and it was in a way, but Miranda wasn't laughing. Neither was I. Part of me regretted my words, the rest not so much. I decided to shift the conversation back to her. "What about you? Do you believe in love at first sight?"

"I have since I was fourteen and my neighbor's grandson came to visit." Her smile was magnificent, and frankly, it felt almost like I was basking in the glow of it. It was a crazy, heady feeling.

"Lucky guy." It was attempt to put some distance between myself and what I was feeling.

"Time will tell," Miranda replied, but she was still smiling.

"Speaking of time, it's time we said goodnight." I forced the words out before I said something else entirely. "Some things should be said in person."

"Yes, they should," Miranda agreed, her expression still warm and content. Looking at her this way, I felt like I could swim in her eyes for a life time. I was lost in what I was feeling until she added, "But only when both people are sure. Well, that and sober."

"Sure and sober sounds good to me," I smiled, but it didn't last as I added, "And only when neither of them is in a relationship." I didn't feel bad about Anthony because he obviously wasn't the one for Miranda, but whether I liked it or not, he was her boyfriend and we shouldn't have had tonight's conversation while that was true. That I felt bad about, even with her prompting.

"Don't worry about that," Miranda said, her smile turning mischievous. "I broke up with Anthony today." My expression must have been priceless because she started laughing. Well, that and she ended the call.

"She really does like getting the last word." I was talking to myself, but that didn't stop me from laughing. Miranda wasn't dating Anthony anymore. I opened the bottle of tequila and took a swig in celebration. "This shit just got real."

There was no doubt of that. I had plenty of reasons to be concerned, but instead, I felt at peace. It scared me, but in a good way.

**********

"Gramsy, that's just mean!"

My grandmother used both hands to thrust the drapes to either side of the window in my room with one sharp motion. The early morning sunlight streamed into my room. I groaned and blinked a few times before I was able to see the alarm clock. Okay, so it was late morning, but still morning all the same.

"Grandson, this is the third time I tried to wake you." Gramsy wasn't mad or even disappointed. She was simply unsympathetic. Somehow that felt worse as I watched her open the window wide. My grandmother was no dummy. She knew why I wasn't moving.

The hang over was a lot worse than it should have been, or at least I thought so until I remembered the amount of tequila I drank after Miranda hung up. I'd been too wired to fall asleep so I figured more tequila would help.

"Bad idea." I said it out loud, but I was talking to myself. Now, not only was I exhausted, but I was hung over too. Want to talk a bad combination?

"This had better not be a new habit." I thought Gramsy's warning was a little much, but I wasn't going to say that to her because now was not the time to get into an argument with my grandmother, or anyone else for that matter.

"You don't need to worry about that," I groaned. "I may never drink again."

Gramsy nodded once. Not because she thought I was serious about never drinking again, but because she understood what I truly meant and accepted the inferred promise. That was the end of it as far as she was concerned. I wish it was the same for me, but I still had to deal with my pounding head until I the effects of the hang over wore off and got some desperately needed sleep.

"Breakfast is on the table getting cold. Go eat something and then take a hot shower."

"Yes, mam," I agreed easily, mostly because both sounded like exactly what I needed. Well, other than a boatload of sleep. Today was going to be pure torture, but I decided to do my best to grin and bear it. "What's on the schedule today?" I thought I did an admirable job hiding my dread, but apparently not so much based on the look my grandmother gave me.

"You're of no use to me like this. I'll have your sheets changed and the room aired out by the time you get back. Sleep. There's nothing that needs doing that can't wait until tomorrow."

"Gramsy, thank you. Thank you so much!" I didn't even try to hide my relief and the extent of my gratitude. She didn't comment, but I could see the slight smile that creased her lips momentarily.

It was well passed noon by the time I finally started moving. Actually, it was closer to dinner. I felt night and day better. It's amazing what a good breakfast, a warm shower and an additional six hours of sleep could cure. I went downstairs and found my grandmother in the living room. The television was on, but she was focused on whatever she was sewing.

A big red warning light went off in my head. My grandmother absolutely hated sewing. The only thing she hated more was throwing away something that would be perfectly fine with a little mending. My sister Lisa and I had learned long ago to avoid Gramsy when she had a needle in her hands.

"What's that amazing smell?" I was pretty sure I knew what it was, but I figured a compliment would be a good way to break the silence.

"Pot roast," she replied succinctly. "I decided to throw it in the slow cooker when it was obvious you weren't going to be any help with dinner tonight." Yep, Gramsy was definitely in a mood.

"I'm starving. I can't wait!"

"Still a couple of hours from being done." My grandmother's tone matched her mood, but then I saw her expression thaw slightly before she added, "Have a sandwich to hold you over. Use the last of the cold cuts. We don't want them to go bad."

"Thanks Gramsy." I knew what she was saying in her own way. I moved to her and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. "I love you too."

I decided on one triple decker sandwich since that would save a piece of bread and cut down on the carbs because you know, the cold cuts themselves were so healthy. I rolled my eyes at my own silliness as I poured myself a big glass of milk. I was definitely feeling better.

I felt so good after I was done eating my late lunch that I decided to mow the lawn for Gramsy before dinner in thanks. It was another bright and warm day so I took a moment to enjoy the feel of the sun on my face before making my way to the shed to get the lawn mower.

The front went quickly enough. The grass wasn't really that long so I didn't need to empty the grass catcher until I was ready to move to the backyard. Of course, I forgot to grab a leaf bag from the shed when I pulled out the mower. I was walking back to get it when I spotted the Ramos family out in the yard. Well, everyone except Mrs. Ramos.

Mr. Ramos and little Matteo were playing Bean Bag Toss against Renzo and Sophie. Miranda was sitting out for the moment. She was using Gramsy's chair to relax. She had her eyes closed and was clearly enjoying the warm weather. I was guessing that I was right about my assumption from the night before that her little siblings wouldn't let her sleep in for very long.

I didn't realize I stopped to appreciate the sight of her sitting there like that until I felt someone watching me. It was Mr. Ramos. He was watching me, watch his oldest daughter.

Sure, it was a little embarrassing getting caught, but I didn't really feel bad about it. It took me a moment to realize that it was because I wasn't staring at Miranda because she was hot. Although, she definitely was that. No, I was staring at his daughter because I cared for her, a lot. I didn't want to take advantage of Miranda. I wanted to be with her. There was a huge difference.

I smiled and waved at Mr. Ramos. He continued to looked at me for a few moments. I met his gaze without wavering until he slowly returned my smile and nodded.

"Tell your grandmother she doesn't need to send over dinner any longer." I noticed that Miranda didn't budge at her father's words. I was already pretty sure she was asleep in the chair. This only confirmed it.

"I'll tell Gramsy you said that, but knowing her, I don't expect that will change anything until things go back to some semblance of normal." I said it respectfully, but my tone let him know how doubtful I was of him being able to make my grandmother change her plans. "She's already got the pot-roast on for tonight."

"You're probably right," he laughed, obviously knowing Gramsy. "But let her know, just the same. Miranda is a perfectly good cook."

"I hear her meals tend to be on the dry side." I'm not sure why I said it, but I couldn't resist. I watched Mr. Ramos's reaction. Clearly, he wanted to defend his daughter, but I think he knew that I wasn't really attacking her. I think he had figured out a lot more than that.

"Only sometimes," he finally admitted with a grin. "And I expect she'll get better with time." I nodded, but didn't comment. A moment later he went back to playing with his kids and I went back to the lawn.

The back took more effort than the front. It was larger, plus I had to move stuff out of the way. Still, I was done mowing in plenty of time for dinner. I started on the other side of the yard from the Ramos's because I didn't want to bother them.

Honestly, their yard was big enough that my mowing wouldn't be loud enough to stop their game. On the other hand, I doubt Miranda could sleep through it. I even thought about stopping altogether, but half finishing a job wasn't something Gramsy appreciated and I didn't want to chance it with her already being in a bad mood.

I was halfway done when I noticed that Miranda was up and playing the game with the rest of her family. I admit, I enjoy the sight of her straining to float the bean back across their yard and into the hole. I loved the fact that she was so competitive.

I caught her glancing my way when I was almost done, but her expression was tough to read. I found myself wondering if Miranda regretted getting drunk with me last night and our talk. That was a depressing thought and threatened to ruin my mood, but I decided not to overact. I admit, I did quicken my pace so that I could finish faster and hopefully get a chance to talk to her, but she was gone when I was finally done.