"I've been thinking.."
The restaurant was having a slow night, and Gary had just joined Miranda at the bar. She'd finished her lasagna and was studying the dessert listings.
"Have you, now?" Miranda's eyes didn't leave the page and Gary knew it was because of the new cake he'd added to the menu. He placed a thick slice of the decadent chocolate cake in front of her and took the menu. He placed it behind the bar and grabbed two forks, handing one to Miranda.
"I've been thinking it's been a while since... well," Gary found this harder than he thought it would be. Tamara hadn't been brought up in conversation since Christmas, and he didn't want to poke at a sore spot, so he searched for a different tack, "Anyway, um, I want to take you out." There, he said it. He watched as Miranda's hand stilled, a large bite of cake paused in front of her open mouth. After a moment, her mouth snapped closed and she dropped the fork shifting in her seat and leaning in.
"Come again, please, thank you much to you?"
"I want to take you out, on a date." Gary knew he had to be clear. The last time they tried this, it was due to Clive and Stevie's prodding, but even though that eventually ended in their biggest fight, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to their story.
"A date, like a real date?" Miranda's brow furrowed, and she leaned back, picked up the fork and brought the bite to her mouth, "Haven't we already tried that?" She asked before finally taking the first bite. Her eyes closed, her shoulders slumped and her head fell back as a soft smile crossed her lips. He could just hear the hum in the back of her throat that he lived for. She licked her lips, and he found himself licking his own in response.
Gary cleared his throat, and Miranda snapped back to the present. "You've had my cake before, does this mean I shouldn't make any more?" He moved to take her plate, but Miranda quickly clamped both arms around the plate and slammed it back to the table. "Guess not," he laughed.
"Alright, you win. A date." Miranda smiled and tucked in to the rest of the cake, playfully batting away at his fork as he took a bite. They split the cake bite for bite, laughing as Miranda shared a story about an unruly scarf that had become stuck to Stevie's trousers with static cling. Gary was called back to the kitchen as they finished the cake and the story.
"I need to head back to work, but how does Thursday work for you? I've got the night off, and it's supposed to be a beautiful day."
"I'll have to check my calendar," Miranda mimed opening a book and turning pages, causing Gary to smile as he stood to take his leave, "Oh, hmm, let me see, I believe that can be rescheduled." Licking her finger she turned an imaginary page, "Um, yes, Thursday works for me." Miranda's eyes shone as she finished her joke, and Gary leaned in to plant a soft kiss on her cheek.
Gary pointed to the imaginary calendar in her hand, "Mark it down, and I'll see you then." Gary entered the kitchen with his heart racing. He'd been working up the courage to asking her out again for months. Whenever he worked up anything close to the nerve, he chickened out and ended up asking her about her stock or something she cared even less about.
Gary parked the car and walked to the store to pick up Miranda. He'd made an effort, pressing his best blue shirt himself. He hoped Miranda wouldn't notice the small burn in the back. He entered the shop to see Stevie mercifully with a customer. She furiously waved at him to stay put, but he dashed up the stairs before she could make it around the counter. He was breathing heavy as he arrived at Miranda's door. He was glad it wasn't open, because it gave him a moment to catch his breath and prepare for what he hoped would be their first successful date. He fixed his shirt, and realized he had come empty handed. Dammit, he swore to himself that he was going to bring her flowers.
He now felt awkward and wasn't sure what to do with his hands. He heard the cash register ring and quickly knocked on the door, not wanting to talk to Stevie when he was already so nervous. Miranda took a moment to answer, and Gary was once again overly aware of his hands. He couldn't figure out where to put them, and had one in his back pocket and one on his neck when Miranda finally opened the door. The sight of her in the same dress she wore when they had their biggest fight rooted him to the spot. She looked just as beautiful, more so, but the joy of seeing her brought with it an unexpected bundle of nerves.
"Hello, Gary, what are you...?" Miranda let the sentence trail off as Gary was still frozen in his pose. He frantically searched for a response, and he found himself pulling out an old dance routine.
"Hello, my honey, hello, my baby, hello, my ragtime doll!" Miranda's smile encouraged him and he dipped his imaginary hat at the end of the song, "Let's just go, yea?" Embarassed, but laughing, he crooked his head towards the stairs.
"Yep, okay," Miranda shut the door behind her joining him in the hallway. "Is Stevie laying in wait?"
"She was distracted when I came up, how do you want to handle this?" Gary and Miranda crouched at the head of the stairs, listening intently for a sign of Stevie's whereabouts.
"Pull the fire alarm?" Miranda shrugged.
"You will do no such thing," Stevie's voice echoed up the stairs, "I can hear you two plotting up there."
Miranda sighed and started down the stairs, looking back at Gary, "Come on, she doesn't bite."
Gary put on his best puppy dog face and followed behind, only to break into a grin as he heard the bells of an opening door. Miranda, halfway down the steps looked at the door and looked back, eyes huge. "RUN!" She shouted as she sprinted down the stairs, past her mother, and heading out the door before she tripped on her own two feet. Gary had been right behind her on the steps, but took a different path around Penny, causing him to collide into Miranda as she pitched forward. Gary caught her and the movement had them spinning for a turn. He firmly took Miranda's hand in his, and pulled her out the door, Miranda stumbling behind, and laughing as she used him for support. They quickly walked down the street, laughing and stealing glances back to see if they were being followed.
The adrenaline burst the dash had given Gary had served to dissipate the butterflies that had taken residence in his stomach. As they turned the corner they slowed to a leisurely walk. Miranda's hand was still in his, and it felt right. He felt so free with her, walking hand in hand through their town, making new memories on the familiar streets. He was content simply walking with her, enjoying the silence they so rarely shared. He was leading her to a new restaurant across the square he wanted to try when he saw a woman selling roses. Perfect, he thought, leading Miranda towards the lady for a surprise.
Miranda stopped suddenly, as her shoe got stuck in the pavement. Seeing his opportunity, he left Miranda to pull out her shoe as he dashed to buy the rose.
As he finished paying the lady, he heard splashing, and turned to see Miranda being drenched by the invisible fountain. He stood in shock, as he watched all his plans wash down the drain.
Holding her shoe, Miranda hobbled over to him. "Want a bit of this?" He tried to contain it, but the adrenaline rushing his veins erupted in a a bubble of laughter. Miranda's face fell, and she took off running back to the shop, losing her second shoe in the process.
Gary picked up the shoe and ran after her, but she beat him to the store and had it locked before he made it to the door. He could just see her disappearing up the stairs before a bang echoed through the shop loud enough to be heard on the street.
Stevie rushed over to unlock the door at his urgent knocking, and grabbed his arm as he entered the store. "What just happened?" Stevie's grip on his elbow let him know that Gary wasn't getting away without giving her something.
Gary explained that they were on a real date, and why he was standing there with a shoe and a rose.
"Maybe you should just go, give her time to calm down," Stevie tried pulling Gary towards the door, but he easily twisted out of her grasp.
"When has that ever worked?" Gary sprinted up the stairs, and found himself staring at her door, nervous about the state Miranda was in. He tucked her shoe under his arm and knocked gently.
"Go away," the command was muffled, but there was little strength behind it. Angry Miranda was one thing, but this sad, defeated Miranda was breaking his heart. He entered the apartment, and saw Miranda hunched over on the sofa. He dropped everything on the table and grabbed a towel from the bathroom.
He spread the towel over Miranda, and left his arm around her shoulder as he sat down beside her. He could feel a tremor pass through her before she curled into his chest, accepting his hug for a moment, before sitting up, shaking off his arm, and looking him directly in the eye. He recognized the stubborn look in her eye, and his heart stopped.
"I can't do this anymore, Gary. I just can't. I can't handle these ups and downs with you. It's too much. Can we just go back to being just friends? No more romance, please"
The words she spoke echoed in his mind, mixed with all the times it had ended like this. He took her hands in his, trying to find a harmony between his head and his heart. His heart was telling him to just go for it, just kiss her. But his head quickly shut that down, reminding him of what happened the last time they ignored the clearest signs, with a clear image of himself, sitting home, alone, chasing away thoughts of the Tamara debacle with his old pal Jamison.
"Maybe you're right," Gary sighed. "I miss my best friend." He bumped her shoulder with his own. "So why don't you go find her, and I'll order a pizza."
"No pineapple, I don't care what you say, fruit does not belong on pizza," Miranda stood and began using the towel on her hair. As she turned back, she froze, and Gary watched as she kept the towel in on place with her hand, and reached out to touch the rose. Just one touch before she shuffled into her bedroom and the door closed with a soft click.
Gary's mind was soup, images chased one another, visions of Miranda surrounded by curly haired children, the way she leans into his shoulder, the smell of her hair, he rubbed his eyes to clear his head. He pushed his disappointment out in a huff, before picking up the phone to order the pizza.