Miranda and Major Hardman

None of that wine was for Tobia though -- she would be eating for two.

"Oh," Diego said, out of the blue, during the middle of dinner. "I heard some interesting news about your boyfriend."

Everyone knew who he meant.

Miranda, chewing a hard bite of steak, only looked at him.

"He's apparently done some amazing work. As usual I don't know any details but he received two below-the-zone promotions and now he's the youngest major in the Marines."

The talk turned to promotion schedules, the meaning of below-the-zone, all that.

Diego brought them back to his topic.

"But I'm afraid he's back to his old ways. He's had" -- but at that moment he turned toward Miranda, and must have seen something on her face, so he began qualifying his statement -- "well, these are only rumors, so I can't confirm anything...."

"Had what?" Miranda's father asked, not seeing Miranda's face or understanding why Diego had paused.

Miranda nodded to tell him to go on.

"At least two more children," Diego said, looking away from Miranda to spare her the embarrassment of being seen as she heard this news. "With two new women," he added, "not the mothers of his previous children."

Nothing but chewing sounds as the people around the table added up the words "two new women," "mothers of his previous children," and "your boyfriend."

He cleared his throat.

"The relevance of this is that due to his overly, um, 'interesting' personal life, he is supposed to retire from active duty next year and enter private service. Apparently he has impressed a gaggle of senators and corporate bigwigs who have big plans for him. Of course I don't know the details of any of that either."

"Really?" Miranda's father gushed. "Senators? United States senators?"

Diego nodded.

"Wow," her dad resumed, "Well, they're not the only people he's impressed."

He looked at her, everyone followed his gaze, and there she was, the pathetic object of everyone's pity.

She excused herself from the table.

-- -- -- -- -- -- / -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Tobia tried to make up for it.

She invited Miranda shopping the following Saturday. "Last minute holiday," she said.

But her real purpose became clear soon enough. Apparently they had to drive all over Pennsylvania to find a doily or something.

"May I tell you some family secrets?"

"Sure," Miranda said, all fake sunshine.

"You'll hear them eventually, but you will not have heard them from me."

"Of course not."

"Well, our dad...," Tobia sighed, searching for words. "Let's put it this way. He cheated on our mom a lot. Secretaries, escorts, strippers...."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Please just hear me out. It really bothered Mom for a lot of years. She was killing herself with drink when we were kids. Dad, he was honest about it, never hid any of it, told her it was his right as a man, and they used to have huge fights. We'd listen from our bedrooms upstairs. We figured it all out even though we were just little girls then."

"Uh huh."

"So we grew up that way for a long time. But then it all changed. We didn't notice at first, but eventually we noticed that there were no more fights. Mom had stopped drinking. For a while we thought Dad must have stopped cheating on her."

"But he hadn't."

"No, that kind of man probably doesn't change. But Mom just accepted it. She explained it to me when I was dating your brother. Dad's a good husband and father in his way. He's a very capable provider. He's never been abusive. He just... well... he's a handsome, successful man, and a lot of women want a bit of him."

"Tobia, I...."

"Mom just told him to stop telling her about it. She didn't want to know. He could do anything he wanted as long as she could pretend not to know about it. And the fights stopped."

She looked at Miranda and repeated: "The fights stopped."

Miranda shrugged.

Tobia took a deep breath.

"Mom told me this," she said, looking ahead, "when I went to her for some advice. A close friend of mine, I won't say who, you don't know her now but you might meet her someday, she was in love with a man who'd asked her to marry him."

Obviously Miranda could see through the old "asking for a friend you don't know" ruse.

"But there was one problem. The man told her he probably couldn't be faithful. He traveled for business all the time, women constantly hit on him, and he just honestly told her that he would probably not succeed in staying faithful. He loved her completely, he said, he just knew his weaknesses."

"Poor girl," Miranda said, not sure whether she meant it to hurt Tobia for making her listen to this, or to be genuinely sympathetic for having to marry her dog of a brother.

"No," Tobia said. "He's a good, good man. Kind, strong, gentle. Just an amazing man."

She looked at Miranda.

"But he's only a man."

She looked back at the road.

"They're all only men," she said, "and like Mom told me, there's a big difference between a wife and a mistress."

"Tobia, why are you telling me this?"

"I met BD," she said, looking back at Miranda. "We actually had him over for dinner the other night. And, well, if a man's only a man, I'm only a woman, and I cannot think of the terms I would not accept."

Miranda laughed, and then they laughed together, until Miranda began to cry.

"Me too," she told Tobia, "But it's not my choice."

"Really?"

Tobia seemed genuinely surprised.

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, it's probably none of my business...."

They laughed, Miranda through tears, both of them realizing that none of this was any of her business, but then she continued:

"Well, at dinner, Diego asked about his love life. Diego really doesn't get why BD won't just settle down. He'd be a general someday if he could just be a bit more discreet. That's what Diego thinks, anyway, I don't know anything about it. But BD said the only girl he'd ever considered settling down with was you."

"Me?"

She nodded.

"And he said you wouldn't have him."

"But it's not true!" Miranda screamed. "I wrote to him so many times! I told him so many times!"

She just closed her eyes and laid her head on the back of the seat and screamed for about a minute, shaking her outstretched hands at the sky.

"Well," Tobia said when Miranda finally stopped screaming, "I can only assume he intended what he said in our house to reach your ears. So if I happen to see him again...."

Miranda looked at her almost helplessly.

"Tell him anything that you think will work," she told her sister-in-law. "Tell him I'll accept the terms. He can have all the mistresses he wants. We'll have them all over for wild parties. I'll oil them up for him!"

"I don't think those would be his terms...."

"Actually I regret saying it already," Miranda laughed.

"There would be women...." Tobia warned.

"Yeah," Miranda said. "I know."

"He moves through the world like a god," Tobia marvelled, "Strong and confident and cheerful, and everyone just falls over themselves seeking his approval." She looked at Miranda. "Even the most powerful men. Perhaps especially them. It's almost pathetic."

But Miranda knew all that, too well even, and wanted to go back to the previous topic.

"There is something I want you to tell him. Tell him that I love him and miss him, but that's obvious. Tell him this: that I respect him and admire him."

She looked at Tobia.

"Please remember that: that I respect and admire him. More than any man I can ever imagine meeting. And when I think of how I treated him, please tell him that when I think of that, when I remember what I said to him and how I said it, I disgust myself."

She broke down crying.

"Why can't he understand? I was so stupid! I was eighteen and stupid! How can that be so hard for him to understand?"

Eventually Tobia laughed.

"You disgust yourself?"

"Oh my god, those are the most important words you have to tell him. He'll understand."

"Okay," Tobia shrugged. "But if I say such a ridiculous thing to him, you'll owe me a huge favor."

She said that with a certain tone, so Miranda looked at her.

"Not that I would ever cheat on your brother," Tobia smiled naughtily, "But...."

-- -- -- -- -- -- / -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Chapter 4: One More Chance

Remembering all that, Miranda swallows and clicks "Accept."

The possibilities run wild through her mind.

Maybe he wants to tell her he's met someone, he's getting married.

Maybe he's been hurt, he's dying somewhere and he wants to say goodbye.

Melodramatic, and she knows what's most likely, but she hardly dares get her hopes up....

She decides to send him a message, trying to seem happy to hear from him but not desperate.

"Hey, BD! Glad to know you're out there somewhere safe and sound."

After she sends it she wastes a moment wondering if it was morbid. "Safe and sound," as if she'd expected him to get hurt. But after all, no one was more likely to get hurt than BD.

She thinks of what she'll tell Tobia. At every family gathering for the past year and a half, Tobia has found an opportunity to whisper with Miranda.

"I haven't seen him. Haven't talked to him."

Miranda would nod.

"But if I do, do you still want me to...?"

Miranda would nod.

Now here she is, waiting for a reply from BD, thinking she will have to tell Tobia about this.

And then Tobia calls her.

Could it be a coincidence?

"Oh my god," Tobia says, speaking almost supernaturally fast. "Can you talk?"

"Yeah."

"I'm in a bathroom at a party so I can't... I just wanted to tell you, I saw him. Just now. We had a moment alone, well not alone, but I think no one could hear us, and I told him exactly what you said. I told him...."

"He texted me," Miranda interrupts.

"Already?"

"Just now."

"Wow, he doesn't waste any time, does he? I just barely... it was like two minutes ago...."

"Oh god, he's replied to me. Oh god, oh god, I have to go Tobia."

"Good luck!"

"You're amazing, Tobia, I absolutely love you!"

"You remember the favor...," Tobia teases, and Miranda hangs up on her.

His reply: "Safe yes but sound is TBD. How are you?"

TBD?

With her heart pounding and her mind all jumbled, it takes her a moment to realize that it means "to be determined" rather than "Too Big Dick."

It just isn't right for a man to be nicknamed Big Dick. Especially a man with an actual big dick. Even BD just puts the words in her mind every time, and the words put the thought. He might well be named Penis. Because basically he is literally named Penis.

She doesn't want to talk about how she is. Her hands are shaking and sweating.

"TBD? Are you okay?"

"LOL yes better than ok. You?"

"Me too," she lies. "Where are you?"

"DC. Party. You?"

"LA. At home. What party?"

"Memorial Day."

There's a lull. She should probably have known that; after all, it's Memorial Day in California too.

But what now? She wonders how to continue the conversation.

At least she wants to be closer friends with him.

At least.

At the very least.

He sends her a message:

"I know we haven't talked in a long time but can I ask you a personal question?"

"Of course! Ask me anything."

In her mind, she thinks, "Ask to marry me! Ask to marry me!"

But she shakes it off.

He sends her another question she hoped he'd ask:

"Are you single at the moment?"

"Yes," she lies. She checks her relationship status -- thank god it doesn't say anything!

She'll break up with Dennis in a moment. She's tired of his games. Gaslighting, passive-aggressive, co-dependent, she doesn't even know the terms for his bullshit. If he didn't have money and good looks....

Say what you want about BD, he wasn't always the nicest guy, but you always know exactly where you stood with him. There was something to be said for that.

Then he sends another message that makes her heart leap:

"Can I call you? I cannot text well. Fat fingers, small buttons."

She just types her number.

Seconds later her phone vibrates. Unrecognized.

"BD?"

"Hey," he drawls.

Oh, that voice.

It falls over her like a gentle rain in the desert.

"I'm so happy to hear your voice!" she cries, like the desert greeting that gentle rain.

And she hears her own voice, higher and softer than usual. Maybe a little too desperate, too obvious, but now she can't afford any pride. She needs him to know she needs him. If he knows....

"I'm happy to hear yours too," he says, and he sounds like he means it. "I've thought of you so many times over the years."

"Me too. I've always worried about you...."

"I'd like to fly out there and see you."

"From DC? It's a long flight...."

He laughs. It begins as a chuckle and then grows into guffaws. Miranda finds herself laughing too, she can't help it.

"What's so funny?" she finally asks.

"I just flew in from Mozambique last week. You want to talk about long flights? And I've been waiting for nearly six years."

While thinking of things she might have to cancel this weekend, she decides to venture a little flirtation.

"Did you have a girl to see there too?"

"In Mozambique? Lots of them. Also some fine gentlemen were trying to kill me," he laughs again. "How did you say it? They were seeking honor."

"Those were your words," she reminds him, remembering that he is exactly the kind of man to laugh about people trying to kill him.

She'd almost forgotten this about him.

Sometimes she'd struggled to believe he had been real. Was there really ever a man that big and strong? A man so charismatic?

And had he been with her?

Had she felt such things? (She especially wondered this as she laid in the arms of disappointing men.)

That's what she thought about when she remembered him.

But she hadn't often recalled his insistence on facing death.

They'd talked about it, him warning her about what life would be like for her if they were together when he left school, emphasizing the danger he'd be in, the chance that he would come back missing body parts.

Or in a body bag.

He'd said it like he wasn't worried for himself, he was only worried for her. She'd commented that sometimes it seemed like he wanted to die, and he'd said something that she'd never forget: "I'd much rather die honorably than 'live a coward in my own esteem.'"

She knew the quote, of course. Lady Macbeth taunting her husband, daring him to assassinate a king.

In their years apart she had wondered if that was something he'd needed from her. A woman like Lady Macbeth, someone who would share his ambition -- his lust for honor?

Should she have told him something like, "Come back carrying your shield or carried on it?"

Back in the present, her phone struggles to represent the depth and richness of his voice:

"Well, they didn't get me this time."

His tone implies that Miranda worrying would be a bigger problem for him than men trying to kill him.

"I'm glad," she says.

But then something strikes her.

"But why were people trying to kill you? Aren't you retired?"

"Kind of, from the Marines. But I still work."

"So were you joking about people trying to kill you?"

"Not really."

"So in your new line of work, people still try to kill you?"

"Even more often than before."

"What kind of work is that?"

"Security," he says, simply, and Miranda almost feels stupid. She has more questions, but before she can decide whether to ask them -- she's curious, of course, but she doesn't want to say anything that would annoy him or make him lose respect for her.

"BD, I just need to tell you something before we go on. I've needed to tell you forever. You know what I told you that day at Gettysburg?"

"I know."

"I was wrong, BD. I was just angry and confused and stupid. You were right about everything."

"No, I wasn't, I...."

"Yes, you were! So much has happened to me since then, I've learned so much, I just need you to know that you do not disgust me at all. Those were crazy, stupid words, said by a stupid, stupid, stupid, naive, stupid girl. BD, I love you and respect you and admire you, and I always have and I always will. I'm so sorry that I ever said anything that stupid."

"Hey, Firecracker," his calm voice soothes her -- she'd been weeping.

"What?"

"What if I fly there tonight?"

"Tonight?"

"Or tomorrow. The first flight I can get."

"You don't..., I mean..., can you free up your schedule like that? You must be busy...."

"It's the other way around. I don't have much time. I'm only stateside for a few days."

"Oh, well, yes, come. Please come!"

It's been far too long, she reflects, since she'd said those words to him!

"Good. We'll have dinner. Do you have any allergies or anything I should know about? You a vegan now or anything?"

Her soul itself seems to sigh.

None of that indecisive shit Dennis pulls. She hears his whiny voice in her head: Where do you want to go? How can I know what you want? Why don't you just decide? Why do I have to make all the decisions?

Just simple, straightforward consideration for what she wants, and then he'll take care of everything for her.

"No," she says, "I'm up for anything."

In every way, she thinks. In every fucking way.

Come and fucking get me.

-- -- -- -- -- -- / -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

They say goodbye because he should get back to the party, but he promises to call as soon as he knows his travel arrangements.

After hanging up, the first thing on her to-do list is to break up with Dennis.

"Hey bud," she chirps into her phone. "We're through."

"What?"

"Kaput. I never want to see you again."

"What? What are you...."

"Well, good, then, so goodbye."

"Wait, we just slept together Sunday night," he protests. "It seemed like everything was fine then."

"Well, things change," she says. "Sometimes quickly."

"Wait a minute. Quickly? Is it something sexual? Is that what you mean? Am I not enough for you in bed?"

She sighs.

"No, you're not. But you're not good enough out of bed either."

"Miranda, are you drunk?"

"No. You're a pathetic disgusting man. You're a wuss, a pussy, a pansy, a wimp...."

"I thought you were the one," he whines bitterly.

"Take it like a goddamn man," Miranda sneers. "What happened to fucking masculinity?"

"Masculinity is toxic," Dennis whines. "I'm a nice guy! Why don't women want nice guys?"

"Goodbye, Dennis," she says.

"Wait, wait. Isn't there anything I can do? Is there anything I can change?"

"It's too late."

"Just tell me one thing. If it's something in bed, Miranda, I...."

"In bed? You're selfish and lazy."

"What?"

"You think you're amazing because you have enough money for a sports car and you know celebrities and you have a big dick."

"What?"

"You heard me. Stop whining, little boy, and listen. I'm sick of you. I want a man in my life. And you know what? I have one now, and it's not you. And I'm tired of saying goodbye."

She hangs up and starts blocking him in all the ways she can.

-- -- -- -- -- -- / -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

She gets the call a few hours later.

This time when her phone rings, the screen says "Big Dick."

No more "BD" for her. She's got a man to build up.

"Hey Big Dick," she coos.

"Well, hello, Firecracker." She can hear him grinning through the phone. "I'll be there in the morning."

"Can I meet you at the airport?"

"No, I will be an absolute mess. Let me clean up and I'll pick you up for breakfast."

"Okay, but I need to confess something."

"Okay."

"I, um, lied earlier today."

"About what?"

"I said I was single."

"Oh."

"But I am now. And it was kind of true because for you I was always single."

"Hey, no problem. Just timing. When I see you tomorrow I'm going to ask you to be my girlfriend again, so you have to have it straightened out by then."