FanStory.com - He's Back (Miranda)by GWHARGIS

So far, Miranda Jessup Buckley has been jilted, fired and left to take care of her ex-lover's child. She is quickly falling for Mitch, the sheriff. After a romantic lunch together, Mitch brings her home.

*************

After leaving Liz a big, fat tip and getting my leftovers to go, Mitch opens the car door for me to drive me home.

"Thank you. That was the best barbeque I've ever had."

"I knew you'd like it," he says, after closing my door and walking around to the other side. "You buckled?"

"Yes, Dad," I say.

He's very good at balancing small talk and silence. I'm not one for talking just for the sake of talking. I'm comfortable with silence. I'm not afraid to be alone with my thoughts. Never have been.

"I realize this wasn't the kind of date that gets written up in a diary, but would it be okay if I asked you out again. Like, maybe the kind of date where we both shower, dress up and use utensils."

"That sounds like something I can probably manage, you know, with enough advance notice."

"Would Sunday be enough notice?"

I can feel my cheeks burning. Farley never asked me to dress up, nor did Dougie. And if we did get a little more dolled up than usual, Dougie couldn't take his eyes off his own reflection to notice me.

I wondered if I had anything nice enough in my closet. I might have to go raid my mommas closet. That woman has some clothes.

As we pull into the trailer park, I see Mrs. Fine sitting on her deck. A small brown cigarette hanging from her lips.

"Geez, is that your neighborhood watch?" Mitch says as we pass by.

"Yep. She doesn't miss a thing that goes on."

He walks around to open my car door after we pull up to my house. "I guess this is goodbye," he says, awkwardly shoving his hands into his jean pockets.

"Thanks, again. I had a wonderful time." I take a step towards the stairs to my deck but stop when I feel his hand on my arm.

One more kiss. One for me, one for him, and one big, fat one for Mrs. Fine's afternoon entertainment.

"Get a room," she yells from her perch across the road.

Mitch takes a step back, a suspicious smile on his face. "You are something else."

"I'm that and more."

One of the toughest things I know I must do, is to say goodbye and walk inside ... alone. But I have to. Something this good can't be rushed. Rushing through things means you oftentimes miss the good stuff.

***************

Aaron dropped Waylon off just after seven. I heat up my leftovers and plate it up for him. Waylon chatters non-stop while he eats. He is now undecided on whether he wants to be a marine biologist or a recovery diver. But at thirteen, who really knows what they want?

"Any idea when they'll identify the bodies?" I ask.

"Shouldn't be too long for the single body in the car. It fits the make of the car Aaron's great uncle was driving when he disappeared. And they can get DNA samples from the family. Couple of weeks at the most. The others, they're gonna have to do some research and see if anyone is missing from around that time."

"Wow. You sure know a lot."

"I watch a lot of television. But there were a couple of guns in the car with two bodies. I'll bet they were cops."

"Maybe."

Waylon licks his fingers. "Oh, almost forgot. My dad has been blowing up my phone. Wants you to text him back as soon as you get home."

"Why doesn't he call the house?"

Waylon shrugs and pulls his phone out of his jacket pocket, places it on the table and pushes it over. "You do know how to text, don't you?"

"I think I can figure it out." I pick up the phone and bring up Dougie's contact.

It's me, Miranda. What do you

want?

A few seconds later, the phone dings.

Need to see you.

Why?

You were right. About Missy

What?

She did it. Meet me at

midnight. Come alone.

She is looking for me.

Where?

Text later.

I look over at Waylon who is picking up the hunks of barbeque that has fallen off the bun. He looks over at me curiously.

"Well?"

"He wants to meet me at midnight."

"Weird. Why?"

"That I don't really know."

"He's not usually a late owl."

It's true. He was usually asleep before I got home. And why not call the cops? Unless, this has nothing to do with Missy. Could just be a ruse to try and get back in my good graces.

"I know this is asking a lot, but would you like to be my wingman tonight?"

His eyes light up. "What do I gotta do?"

"Just ride with me. That's all."

"Sure. And I'll jump out of the car if he goes to kiss you." He jumps up from his chair, flailing his arms. "Hey, dad, gotta kiss for me?"

"Go take a shower." I take the plate that he's all but licked clean over to the sink.

I wash the dishes and straighten up the living room. It's eight fifteen. It's going to be a long night. I should just text Dougie back and tell him come over here and tell me what he knows. But, do I really want him back here. No. The answer to that is a resounding no.

Waylon dozes off around nine. I lean back on the couch and close my eyes shortly after that.

The ding of his phone wakes me.

Midnight. Behind the

Piggly Wiggly. Come

alone.

I nudge Waylon gently. "You still up for this?"

He squints and wipes his eyes. "Yeah;" he says. "Let me go pee."

My gut says forget it. Go with your gut, Miranda. He's using this as a way to get to me. He sees I'm happy ... without him. He just wants to mess with my head. But what if he's really found something?

I hear the toilet flush and look up to see Waylon slipping his arms into his jacket. "Ready?"

I grab my jean jacket off the hook by the door and get my keys.

"Let's get this over with."

To be continued ...