The Petite Gardener

Miranda barely slept and when she did it was only moments of fitful sleep filled with dreams of Vince telling her of the life he wanted to have with her. But she always woke up, her pillow wet with the tears that fell over and over with each time she re-lived the horrible night she told him it wouldn’t happen. When the first ray of light seeped into her bedroom, she crawled out of bed, thankful the night was finally over. She took a long, hot shower hoping to revive herself, then forced herself to make breakfast even though she had no appetite at all.

She walked into the living room and saw the bowl of uneaten popcorn and remembered again Vince’s voice, so full of pain; Don’t you miss me at all? He had no idea of how much she missed him, and she could never tell him because he would misinterpret it. In fact, she hoped he hadn’t misinterpreted anything she said last night. She could barely remember now exactly what she did say, but his words were branded in her memory; I miss you so much I can’t stand it; let me come to you. Feeling the tears welling up in her eyes again, she decided she couldn’t handle another day of crying, so she quickly changed clothes, got in her car and started driving.

She drove most of the day, stopping only when she found a spot where she could be alone. Although she tried her hardest to keep the tears at bay, she broke down a few times. By late afternoon, she was getting tired and decided to go home and prepare for the new work week, turning in early to catch up on some of the missed sleep from last night.

But when she pulled into the parking lot in front of her apartment building she saw Vince, leaning against his car. Her heart skipped a beat and all the progress she felt she had made that day was undone. “Oh, God, please help me.”

She got out of the car, wiping her face and wondering how awful she must look to him. He was by her side in no time and engulfing her in his massive embrace.

“I couldn’t stay away, Miranda. Don’t be angry with me.” He looked at her with such pleading in his eyes that of all the feelings that were running through her head and her heart at that moment, anger was not one of them.

“I’m not angry, Vince. But you shouldn’t have come.” She felt weak.

“Can I at least come inside for a minute?” He still had not let go of her, but now she pulled away.

“Of course.” She walked to the door and unlocked it.

He followed her inside. He didn’t seem to notice the unpacked boxes, the un-lived-in feel of the apartment that she had been in long enough now to have been settled into. As soon as she put her purse and keys down he pulled her into his arms again and kissed her.

“Vince, don’t.” She could barely get the words out. She was still stunned to see him, exhausted from the drive and no sleep, and feeling utterly defeated.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he couldn’t stop kissing her. “You said you missed me too. Show me, Miranda. Please, show me you’ve missed me.”

There was a hunger in his kiss, in his touch. Miranda felt it too. This was dangerous ground. She finally managed to pull away.

“No, Vince. We’ve been through this.” She felt the tears coming again and she felt dizzy.

“All right. I’m sorry.” He stood looking at her, unsure of what to do next. He had been sure that once she was back in his arms and he could show her how much he had missed her, she wouldn’t resist him any longer. “Let’s go get something to eat. Okay?”

“Oh, Vince, I’m exhausted…”

“Exactly why you shouldn’t worry about cooking, but you need to eat something. C’mon. I saw a seafood place down the street. You’ll feel better after a plateful of shrimp.”

She was hungry. She couldn’t remember the last time she ate, come to think of it. She agreed and told him to give her some time to clean up and change. He had time now to notice the apartment. What he saw was a temporary home, a place where someone only planned on staying a short time. It gave him hope. He was sure that meant she was just nervous about the wedding and as soon as he convinced her that there didn’t have to be a big wedding, or that it could be postponed, she would come home. Back to Hanover, back to her job, back to him. He patted his pocket. It was still there. He had all the confidence he needed now. By the time the night was over, everything would be worked out. He was sure of it.

At the restaurant they were led to a booth in a corner. From the side of the table where Miranda sat she could see practically the entire dining room. Just to her left was a small table half hidden behind a potted sago palm, and facing her was a man who was blatantly staring at her. It was Weston. When their eyes met, she tried to smile but couldn’t. She actually could not bring herself to put a smile on her face, so strong was the turmoil in her heart at that particular moment. He wasn’t smiling either. He was looking at her though, concerned. Then she saw a long slender hand turn his face away from her and she saw the beautiful Lana sitting next to him, demanding his attention. Miranda thought again about newlyweds, about the two of them being newlyweds, about her chance to have been one…

from: The Design of the Future