Late Night Conversations

Miranda's comment and pointed look made me waffle on whether I should call my grandmother or not. I was just convincing myself not to, when Gramsy came outside to check on me.

"Please tell me you weren't going to use that ladder without someone holding it steady?" Her tone matched the look Mira had given me perfectly.

"Of course not," I said with a straight face.

"Liar!" Miranda laughed.

"I never lie to Gramsy," I argued, and I didn't, but mostly because she was amazing at sniffing them out. That's why I became nervous when my grandmother started frowning at me. So much so, that the truth slipped out. "I was thinking about avoiding the ladder altogether and just jumping down."

"Grandson, sometimes I wonder about you," Gramsy sighed heavily as she held the bottom of the ladder. "How someone so intelligent can refuse to use the smarts God granted you..."

"Sorry Gramsy," I said, giving Miranda an annoy look for putting me on the spot, which she clearly either ignored, or more perversely, enjoyed. It didn't take much to realize that although Mira might look different, she was still the same girl I remembered. I climbed down the ladder with exaggerated care.

"Miranda, did Lorenzo tell you I'd be sending over dinner?" Gramsy asked.

"Yes, Mrs. Stahl, but you don't have to do that." Miranda's eyes shifted away from me as she spoke to my grandmother, and for some reason that made me sigh in relief.

Oddly, that was the moment it struck me that Mira's lips were just as enticing as I feared. I forced my eyes away from her and focused on carrying the ladder and bucket of tar to the shed. I'd have to bring the tools I'd use inside the house to clean them.

"Nonsense dear," my grandmother was saying. I couldn't see them, but I could still hear them from the shed. "I have to cook for my grandson anyway. It's easy enough to make some extra. In fact, I expect I'll be sending something over most nights while he's here."

"Oh, you don't have to..."

"It's done," my grandmother said in that voice of hers that brooked no argument. Miranda was smart enough to know what it meant too.

"I don't know how to thank you, Mrs. Stahl." The gratitude in Mira's voice was honest, and I got the sense that it embarrassed my grandmother slightly.

"Please, it's your parents who deserve thanks. They're the ones stepping up and helping people during these rough times. Cooking for you four is the least I can do."

God, I loved that old woman! Cooking for me would be hard enough for an eighty-four-year-old, but now she'd taken on four more mouths to feed.

"This is great!" I said enthusiastically as I left the shed and rejoined them. "I've been dying to learn how to cook some of your specialties. You can write up a list of what you need from the supermarket and I'll go early tomorrow before the place gets crowded."

"You cook?" Miranda's disbelief was obvious. So was her grin.

"No, but it's past time I learned," I clarified. "I love my step mother dearly, but most of her meals would probably challenge your burnt chicken from last night. Besides, I'm graduating this year and sooner or later, I'm going to get my own place and need to cook. Who better to teach me than Gramsy?"

"It was dried out, not burnt," Miranda said testily, making me laugh, which in turn, made her blush angrily. It was kind of cute.

"If you're serious," Gramsy said to me, intentionally interrupting before our words blossomed into a full-blown fight. "We can deal with the air condition tomorrow. Go get cleaned up and you can help me cut the vegetables. I already have the meat simmering. We're making stew for dinner."

"On my way!" I said, honestly excited. No one made stew like my grandmother.

"Just make sure to leave some for my brothers, sister and me!" Miranda called after me.

"I make no promises!" I yelled back, exchanging a grin with her. Hers grew into a true smile that drew my eyes to her lips before she turned back to her siblings. I shook my head and continued inside.

**********

Gramsy was an early to bed, early to rise kind of person. Me, not so much. Besides, I was still digesting the amazing stew I'd helped her make. My grandmother made me drop off more than enough for the Ramos kids on their front porch.

I'd rung the bell and stepped back. Miranda answered the door and waved at me before taking the pot inside. I was guessing that her younger siblings were hungry based on how quickly she disappeared, or maybe it was her.

That was some time ago and I was sure they were done eating by now and probably in bed. I slipped out into the yard. I figured I'd soon be getting tired of Gramsy's house so I was going to spend as much time as possible outside while the good weather lasted. I took my phone to keep busy, but it was such a beautiful night that I put it aside once I did a cursory look at what my friends were posting. The stars were out in full force and I allowed myself to enjoy them for a time.

It started turning cold and I was thinking about going to bed when I heard the sliding door from the Ramos house open. I was sitting on one of the large chairs Gramsy made me take out earlier when we were setting up the patio furniture.

I glanced over and wasn't really surprised to see that it was Miranda. Her younger siblings had probably just dropped off to sleep. Her father's car was out front, but I was guessing he'd passed out not long after arriving home. I hadn't seen her mother, but Gramsy said that Mrs. Ramos was doing double shifts most days. Her hospital wasn't nearly prepared for this pandemic. None of them were.

Miranda was standing at the edge of their patio and staring up into the sky, similarly to the way I'd been doing a few moments ago. She hadn't seen me yet so I stole a few moments to take in the sight of her without any prying eyes. A slow smile formed as I allowed myself to enjoy her profile. I guess I was too tired to think about the ramifications of looking at her that way.

Miranda's body was damn near perfect. I guess some guys might have thought that her butt was a little too obvious, but in my opinion, it was the perfect size and shape. I'd always had a thing for that.

Her chest was shapely and full without being too much, and her waist was neither too narrow nor too thick. It fit her body. Miranda was on the short side, but it wasn't noticeable because of the way she carried herself. It's funny, but her confident stance was just as attractive as her curves, maybe even more so.

Her dark eyes sparkled as she took in the night sky and her long hair, square jawline and parted full lips made her look like Aphrodite, Freya or whoever was the goddess of lust. I got them all confused, but there was no confusing what the sight of Miranda standing there did to me.

I shook my head at my own thoughts and realized it was time to make my presence known before she turned and caught me giving her the once over. Who was I kidding? I was giving her far more than a 'once over'.

"How was the stew?" It seemed like the most obvious icebreaker. Miranda turned toward me without any sign of being surprised I was sitting there. The idea that she might have known I was there the whole time made me blush badly, but thankfully, it was too dark for her to notice.

"Incredible," she said simply, but then laughed and added, "I'm really not that bad of a cook, but I'm nowhere near your grandmother's class, or my mother's, if I'm being honest."

"I can still taste the enchiladas your mom made for the block party that summer my sister and I stayed with Gramsy," I said, smiling at memory. "They were amazing."

"I actually make pretty decent enchiladas." I gave her a look, making Miranda laugh before she insisted it was true. "You can ask Renzo tomorrow."

"I'll have to judge for myself one of these days." I was just teasing her, but something I said made her lose her smile as she looked into my eyes.

"One of these days," Miranda finally said before looking away. That's when I noticed that her patio furniture wasn't out. Mira didn't have any place to sit. I stood and grabbed one of Gramsy's chairs and moved to the fence.

"Here. Sit on this," I half offered and half demanded as I reached over the fence and put the chair down.

"I can't..." she began, but I cut her off as I moved back to give her room.

"Of course, you can," I insisted. "Don't worry. I'll disinfect it in the morning."

"And I guess you expect me to just sit on it now without disinfecting it? I mean, it may not be as likely that you have the virus as I do considering what my parents are doing, but that doesn't mean it's impossible."

"Wow!" I groaned, moving back toward the fence. "That was so stupid. I'll..."

"Leave it," she sighed. "I'll be right back. We have plenty of cleaners in the house and I really could use to sit down for a few minutes. We were supposed to get new patio furniture this year, but it will have to wait until this is all over."

I sat waiting, but it didn't take long for Miranda to return. What did was the time it took for her to clean the chair to her satisfaction. I felt awkward because I couldn't help, but there was nothing I could do about that, so instead I started talking.

"Your mom working a double shift again?" Maybe it wasn't the best topic, but I wasn't really sure what to talk to Mira about. The last time I saw her she was barely out of pigtails. Okay, she was a little older than that, but still.

"She already put in a double session today. She sleeping at the hospital tonight. She does that a lot too since this all started. I think some days she's afraid to come home just in case she catches the virus."

"Yeah, I get that," I offered, but then did my best to make her feel better. "Your mom is a smart woman. I'm sure she's being careful."

"There's only so far smarts will get you in this situation. I really wish this was all over and done with." I could hear the strain in her voice.

"It must be tough on you." I figured it might be better to walk the conversation away from thoughts of her mother.

"I'm fine," Miranda sighed as she finally finished cleaning the chair and sat down facing me. We were close to ten feet apart, but we could still see each other in the moonlight, if not well. "I mean, I miss my friends, but we text and facetime a lot."

"How are your online classes going?"

"Please!" she snorted. "I'm a second semester senior. Most of my classes were a joke before they moved online. Now, they're just a waste of time."

"I wish I could say the same about my college classes. I'm a second semester senior too, but I need the credits to graduate. Two of my professors don't seem to care in the least that we're now taking classes from home, not that they are bothering to teach any longer. Nope, they're just assigning chapters in their books and posting tests. One of them is giving open book tests, but they're still a bitch."

"Let's talk about something else," Miranda insisted. "I don't want to think about school right now."

"Sure," I said agreeably enough. It was so cold at this point that my fingers were starting to hurt, but I didn't want to chance ending the conversation by going inside to grab a coat. "Why don't you pick the topic?"

Miranda might have been four years younger than me, but she was the first person close to my age that I'd had a face to face conversation with in the last month that wasn't related by blood.

'And I'm certain that it has nothing to do with the fact that you find Mira attractive.' Sometimes, I really hated my inner voice.

"You still rooting for that loser football team of yours?" Her smile was downright annoying, but I got that she was looking for a light conversation.

"We're in a rebuilding year." I tried to keep my defensiveness out of my voice, but failed miserably.

"Don't you mean rebuilding decade?" Her taunt hit home hard.

"And how many Superbowls has your team won?"

Mr. Ramos was big into soccer. So was her brother Renzo, but Mira loved football and our teams were rivals. We started arguing about it when the preseason games started during that summer when I lived next door to her with Gramsy.

Miranda might not look like the tomboy I remembered, but that didn't mean that she'd changed all that much. At least, not when it came to sports. For some reason, that only added to my confusion when it came to my feelings toward her.

We argued for quite a while, getting far louder than we should have considering the hour, but we were both enjoying ourselves too much to stop. Well, not until Mr. Ramos came through the sliding door.

"Do you two plan on waking up the entire neighborhood or am I the only lucky one?" He was clearly annoyed, but Maranda's father was also smiling.

"Sorry, Papa," Mari offered, standing and moving to him. She gave her father a quick kiss on his cheek before grinning. "But you know how thick Davey can be when it comes to American football."

"Sorry for waking you, Mr. Ramos," I added, standing as well. I couldn't move to him and shake his hand like I wanted, but it seemed too disrespectful to remain seated. "I just don't understand why your daughter doesn't get that more Superbowls means a better franchise."

"Yeah, well at least I can remember my team's last Superbowl." Apparently, Miranda wasn't ready to give in despite her father's arrival.

"I can remember two of my teams Superbowls," I retorted. "It's not my fault you're so young that you can't even drink legally." I knew I'd scored a point with that last dig because she hated when I brought up how much younger she was than me, but I knew it wouldn't make her give up.

"Alright you two!" Mr. Ramos interjected in exasperation. "I know how much you like to argue, but can you please save it for another day? I have to wake up early tomorrow."

"Of course, Papa." I could tell that Miranda was worried about her father. "I thought you had the morning off?"

"Billy's not feeling well," her father answered. "He says it's nothing, but I told him to stay home just in case." His words only made Miranda's worried expression grow worse.

"I really am sorry, Papa," was all she said. "I'll be in, in a minute."

"Okay," he nodded in acceptance. Mr. Ramos than turned to me and smiled tiredly. "It's good to see you David."

"You too Mr. Ramos."

"It's nice to know you're visiting your grandmother and will keep an eye on my family for me." I didn't know why, but his words made me uncomfortable for some reason.

"I'm here for whatever they need." I meant it too, despite the odd sense of guilt that welled up inside of me.

"Papa, we're doing fine on our own," Miranda insisted. Her father reached out and lovingly pressed his hand on the side of her face.

"I know you've got everything under control Mira," he said confidently. "And don't think your mother and I don't appreciate it, but you're going to have to forgive an old man. These are crazy times and I feel better with a man looking after you all." His daughter response was to shake her head and roll her eyes, but she didn't comment. Her father nodded and turned back to me once more.

"David, I'm sure we'll get some time to catch up before you go home." I couldn't quite read his expression.

"I hope so, Mr. Ramos." He gave me a careful look before turning and going inside without another word.

"He looks exhausted." The words slipped out without thought. I cursed myself as Miranda's expression turned even more worried.

"He is," she sighed, but then shook her head. "But Papa is Papa and there's no slowing him down when it comes to helping people."

"That seems to be a thing with your family," I teased gently. Mira obviously thought I meant only her father and mother based on her expression so I had to clarify. "I didn't realize how much everything was getting to me until tonight. I was holding a lot in. You have no idea how our arguing helped."

"You and me both," she replied softly. Miranda was on the other side of the fence and a good ten feet away from me, which was a good thing, because I suddenly got the sense that she needed a hug, and without both of those obstacles, I might have tried to give her one.

"In that case, same time tomorrow?" I joked, but instead of laughing she nodded.

"Sounds good," Miranda replied. "Only make sure to bring a coat next time. You look half frozen." She turned and followed her father through the sliding door before I could reply.

"Well, she's not wrong." I blew into my hands to try and warm them up, but only ended up laughing instead as I realized that I was just finishing up my first day at Gramsy's house.

I was cold and tired, but somehow it felt good just the same. My grandmother was true to her word and hadn't let me sit idle for any amount of time. I had the feeling that spending the next few weeks here was going to be many things, none of them boring.

I had no idea what was going on between Miranda and me, but honestly, it was just nice to have someone I could talk to, joke with and tease. I was still having issues reconciling the fourteen-year-old girl I remember with the young woman she'd become. The fact that she was cute and sometimes even verged on hot only confused me further.

"Definitely not boring."

**********

"How are you feeling today?" It sounded like an odd question to me, especially coming from Renzo the next afternoon. He was once again in his yard, but this time he was alone, getting ready to mow the lawn. I was also alone in Gramsy's backyard. Truthfully, I was sort of hiding from my grandmother. The old woman was a non-stop dynamo.

"I'm good," I replied easily, wondering what he was getting at.

"Are you sure?" Renzo's smile slipped into an out and out grin.

"Of course, why? What's going on?" I had no idea what the teenager was getting at, but clearly, he was itching to tell me.

"Nothing," he replied, but then his grin grew even wider. "It's just that..."

"Lorenzo!" the same annoyed voice from the day before came through the screen door from his house. "I don't hear the lawnmower!"

"Your sister is in a mood today, isn't she?" I joked with Renzo. It was funny how the sound of Miranda's voice, even with its waspy overtones could make me smile. Of course, it might have had something to do with the fact that her sharp tongue wasn't directed at me.

"You have no idea!" the boy sighed, but then gave me another odd look and added, "Although, from what I hear, you might be learning soon enough."

"What?" I asked in confusion. He looked at my expression and shook his head, obviously no longer in the mood to joke around.

"Never mind," he answered, moving toward the lawnmower. "Mira was always bossy, but it's gotten worse since momma and papa started working so much."

"It can't be easy for her either," I offered. "I'm sure this wasn't what she was planning for her last semester of high school." Renzo nodded and started to say something else, but we were interrupted by Gramsy.

"Grandson, there you are! The front porch isn't painting itself." She came around the house, a woman on a mission. Gramsy continued on to the shed where I was guessing she stored the painting supplies. We both watched her for a couple of seconds until she was inside the shed.

"I guess I could have it worse," Renzo said soberly. "Your grandmother is relentless!" He was careful to speak only loud enough for me to hear.

"You have no idea," I laughingly groaned, repeating his earlier comment. "I spent over an hour and a half at the supermarket getting all the groceries she put on the list this morning, or at least as much of it as I could find. I got home, unpacked them and then put in the air conditioner in the living room window. I only was able to escape out here now because she was busy cleaning it."

"Larenzo, the lawn!" Miranda's voice was reaching for that shrill tone once again.