The two men sat in silence for a while until Alan decided to talk about Mira. "You know, when you told me you were dating Mira, I imagined her to be a little more, well, stuck up," he stated. Don gave him a small smile.
"You would think, huh?" Alan chuckled. "She's different from the rest of them, you know. She's always surprising you one way or another."
They lapsed into silence once again, the faint sound of Larry and Charlie bickering blending in with the quiet sounds of late May. Time slowly ticked by, the calm of the evening blurring their sense of time. Soon it was 8:12, a startling discovery made by Don as he glanced at his father's watch. Considering evening traffic, and the fact that she lived in Los Feliz, Don knew he had to leave now in order to make his nine o'clock deadline. Leaping out of his comfortable chair, Don said goodnight to his father and told him to pass it on to the mathematician who pretended to be his devoted brother.
Dashing to his dark SUV, Don made haste towards Mira's luscious estate. Normally, he would take his time getting to the door. Some of the most beautiful gardens in the world surrounded Mira's home. There was a little bit of everything growing here and there. He noticed before that all sorts of roses dominated the designated area. Miniature weeping willows dusted the area, while looming adults brushed the edges of the garden. There were two ornate fountains located about twenty feet from the edge of the walkway that led to the door which spout sparkling water that shimmered in the spotlights that were set to illuminate them.
Tonight, however, was different. He had about two minutes to enter the house before she locked the door. He knew never to count on her forgetting. She had the memory of an elephant. She was also always unnaturally punctual. He parked the car quickly and locked it as he jogged up the walkway and towards the large ornamental doors. The lights in the magnificent foyer were still lit, which gave him hope. He burst through the door just as Mira was coming down the stairs, her face crestfallen.
"Am I too late?" he asked, his breath quickly returning to him. Mira's face lit up playfully. She relaxed against the wrought-iron railing, and smiled.
"You, late? Never!" she mocked. Don threw his keys onto the wooden table that occupied the center of the room and climbed the staircase until her reached her position. He slid an arm around her waist and pulled her towards him, kissing her softly. She melted immediately and gasped quietly for air as their kiss passionately grew. "You had beer," she whispered between kisses as they slowly moved up towards her bedroom.
Hours later, Don lay awake, surrounded by the warm glow of morning. He was sitting up slightly; Mira nestled close to him, her secondary source of warmth. She was still asleep while Don stroked her hair gently. She apparently had showered when she got home last night; her hair was softly curled, a direct product of moisture attacking her hair. Fourteen more hours until they were to be at the party; fourteen more hours until he finds out whether or not Mira is comfortable with their relationship. Despite last night's suggestive activities, Don still wasn't sure whether he and Mira were compatible enough.
They were almost perfect opposites. She liked the romantic comedies; he liked the suspense thrillers. She liked art and all types of music; he preferred silence. Mira loved spending time doing nothing; he was shackled to his job. She was wealthy; he simply made enough to survive April 15. Mira was a beautiful socialite; Don stuck with his friends and partners for company. She found sports pointless; he could spend hours watching someone hit a small white ball that was thrown to them. Mira called it "abstract"; he called it futile.
"Stop it," Mira said with a small sigh. Don was shaken out of his trance and looked down at the "sleeping" woman. Her eyes were still closed and she hadn't moved a muscle, but she was somehow awake.
"What, babe?" he asked quietly, kissing her hair. Mira shifted, rubbing her eyes gently. She tilted her head up to look him in the eye.
"You tensed up suddenly, that's what. You only tense up when you're thinking about something you can't figure out," she replied honestly. He then remembered something else that made them different; she could remember every detail of a person and pick out their habits. Don struggled to remember his father's birthday, let alone someone's muscle movements in conjunction with their emotions and thoughts.
"I'm sorry, Mira, I am. I guess I—" he apologized. Mira cut him off.
"Stop," she commanded. "I don't care what you thought you were doing. Just stop doing it. Forget about the party. I know you're worried I don't feel like we're going to work, and you couldn't be more wrong. I know you think we aren't compatible. I know our interests don't match up. And frankly, I couldn't give a damn. For the first time in my life, I have found someone who doesn't know all the things I know. I found someone who teaches me things about parts of life that I don't already know. I found someone who I can talk to, make out with, and have sex with without worrying about whether they'll still be around the next morning. I love you, Don Eppes. I love you."
She touched his cheek gently and looked him directly in the eye. He returned her hard gaze and felt like drowning in her green orbs. Her statement shocked him, for several reasons, one was the fact that she had cursed, which she rarely did. Another was the fact that she had confessed to loving him, which didn't happen everyday. In fact, it was the very first time she ever said anything of the kind. She looked at him steadily, not expecting a reply or a counter-confession. He wasn't likely to do so for a while, and she knew it.
She slid out of the bed shortly afterwards. She picked up the robe that lay on the settee. She wrapped it around her body and headed into the bathroom. Don sighed and also got up, dressing slowly. Mira washed her face and put up her hair quickly. A few minutes later, she came out of the bathroom wearing white yoga pants and a crimson, long-sleeved, cotton shirt.
"Hey, Mira," Don murmured as he caught her arm gently. Mira slowed down and turned slightly. "Were you being serious, or were you simply trying to shut me up?" Mira tilted her head.
"Why would I joke around about something like that?" she asked in reply. Don shrugged.
"I don't know, I guess that was a stupid question." Mira tilted her head the other direction. She then started to button his shirt for him.
"No, it was a reasonable question for the situation. I was serious. I love you," she said optimistically. Don gave a small smile.
"I… I love you, too," he stammered oddly. Mira looked at him honestly. She could read his face like a book; he was truly sincere about what he said. She kissed him softly.
"I know," she whispered. "You know, I didn't think you'd reply in the same day, let alone within fifteen minutes." Don gave her a playful push. Mira laughed.
"That's not fair," he said, tickling her gently. Mira gave a small shriek and backed out of the room, defending herself from his relentless tickling. Nina, her housekeeper, saved her, fortunately.
"Mira, dear," Nina said kindly while giving Don a simple glare. "You have a delivery; a painting, I believe." Mira smiled and took Don's hand. She pulled him down the stairs, heading towards the front door where the deliveryman stood with her painting.
"Thanks, Nina. Don, remember that autistic teenager that I was telling you about?" she asked him after kissing her housekeeper on the cheek. Nina had been with Mira since she was a little girl; she practically raised the woman.
"Yeah, the one who sells his paintings to raise money for autistic awareness?" Mira nodded. She signed the piece of paper that the man offered and took the painting from him.
"Well, I asked him to paint something for me in particular. A woman with roses," she said to him as she unwrapped the painting. Don looked at the painting with shock. The woman with roses was she. "Don't look so surprised. If you recall what I told you, he doesn't use models. He paints people he's seen from memory."
Mira looked at the painting, analyzing every inch of it. Although the likeness was not exactly her, anyone who simply glanced at it would assume it was she. The roses were the perfect mixture of red and white. Yellow blooms decorated her hair. Mira caught her breath and smiled. Don watched her expression as he tied his four-in-hand tie.
"It's really amazing, Mira," he commented. Mira set the painting down and turned to him. She leaned against the railing and tilted her head as she gazed at him. After a while, Mira took Don's jacket from the coat rack and offered it to him.
"You're going to be late, if you stay longer. We don't want that, do we?" she said with charm. He took his jacket and picked up his keys from the table. He nuzzled her neck quickly before kissing her.
"No, we wouldn't. I'll see you a 5:30, okay?" Mira kissed his cheek tenderly.
"I'll be here, waiting," she replied. "I've got only a lecture on art. I'll be around." Don kissed her again and sped off to his SUV. Mira leaned against the front door-frame and watched him amorously. After a few minutes, she slipped back inside meeting Nina's watchful gaze.
"He's gone?" she asked stiffly. Mira looked at her with confusion. Nina returned her stare.
"Yes, he's left for work. Why?"
"I don't like him," Nina stated flatly. Mira sighed and shook her head as she walked up stairs. They had already argued about Don before.
"Nina, he's a sweet man. Just give him a chance," Mira coaxed as she reached her bedroom. Nina followed her instinctively. Nina was about 55 and looked about 45. Her hair tainted with pale streaks of gray. Her gray-blue eyes watched her charge with concern. Mira opened her closet doors and scanned the premises for something to wear.
"I just don't fancy his occupation," she said in her gentle London accent. Mira gave her a glance over her shoulder before proceeding to enter the closet. She picked up a pair of polka-dotted, slingback heels and continued to look for an outfit that went with the shoes. She picked out a white, A-line skirt and a black polka-dotted shirt.
"It really makes no difference, Nina. I love him," she murmured as she dressed. Nina sighed and backed away.
"I didn't think so, but I thought I'd try," Nina muttered. Mira smiled at her comment. She exited the closet and carried the shoes with her. She walked absentmindedly to the bathroom and applied her makeup. Nina reappeared at the bathroom door with Mira's sister on her tail.
"Mira, Ms. Marietta is here to see you," Nina said bitterly. Marietta glared at the older woman. Mira sighed and nodded, telling Nina she was permitted to leave.
"You're dating a FBI agent? Mira, you've lost your mind!" Marietta said sharply. Mira pinned up some of her hair on one side and looked at her sister evenly. Marietta, who in fact was Mira's cousin, was taller and thinner than Mira. She also looked more like an Italian, unlike Mira. Despite her gangly appearance, Marietta was known for her decent intentions but her execution was rated a negative fifteen on a scale of one to ten.
"And what makes you say that?" Mira asked calmly, passing her sister in order to pick up her shoes. Marietta threw reasons into the air, knowing that Mira was ignoring every word that drift in the air. When she noticed that the words had stopped, Mira finally took a stand.
"You know, Mari, for the past few years, I have tolerated your ridiculous attempts at matchmaking. To be honest, I'm sick of it. I have Don, now. He's all I need and want. I will not accept your stuck up, self-absorbed suitors any longer," Mira said icily. Marietta stared at the defiant young woman. Never in their relationship had Mira taken such a tone; to Marietta, it was rather frightening. Mira was always the tolerant, good-natured person. She noticed that Mira's patience was thinning after she had received a dismal peer-evaluation from some Physics professor at CalSci. The physics professor had commented that 'although the language itself is amazing, the professor offers little to the class as a whole'. Mira saw that deep down she had hurt Marietta. She sighed heavily.
"I'm sorry, Mari, really I am. It's just been a rather trying week," she murmured apologetically. "It didn't help that I happened to have dinner with that physics professor last night." Marietta blinked. She rushed to her sister and put an arm around her shoulder.
"Oh, Mira! I'm so sorry," Marietta gushed. "If I had known, I wouldn't have barged in here criticizing you!" Mira waved her comment off.
"I'm cutting it close," she mumbled as she checked her watch. Marietta walked down the stairs with her. "I have an art lecture in thirty minutes." Marietta grabbed her coat from the stair railing and followed her sister out into the car garage. Three vehicles were parked in the brightly lit parking area: the 2005 Ford Mustang, a sparkling Mercedes-Benz SL Class (which Marietta had bought Mira for her birthday last year), and a looming Ford Explorer that was given to her as another birthday present by her brother, Marco.
Mira stepped into the Explorer and gave Marietta a small wave. Marietta inclined her head and stepped back into the house where she stayed for another hour receiving juicy gossip from Luisa, the new house cleaner. Mira drove quietly towards the UCLA main campus in hopes of getting there before the usual crowd did. Her head filled with thoughts and questions. Why was she suddenly so impatient? Why did she constantly have a bad feeling about the coming morning? Mira sighed and turned into the teacher's parking lot. She put the small yellow identification card on the dash and turned off the car. She grabbed her handbag and exited the car. She extricated her black messenger bag from Don's duffle bags and case files then strode into Dodd Hall. Let the games begin, she thought tiredly to herself, I should give Don an earlier curfew.
Several boring hours later, Don was at his apartment. He was only there briefly; he was tired of being told that he was wearing the same thing that he wore to work yesterday, so, he was packing most of his good office apparel to take the Mira's. He picked up the garment bag and headed out the door just as his neighbor poked her head out her door.
"You haven't been home for the past few months, Don, dear," she said warmly with a hint of concern. Don gave her a polite, yet dismissive smile.
"I've been staying with someone," he replied, checking his watch and becoming alarmed when it read 5:04. "Good evening, Mrs. Henderson." He nodded his head politely as he left. Mrs. Henderson watched him curiously, as he bounded down the stairs and out the door. He threw his bag into the back of the SUV and drove off, heading towards Los Feliz.
He pulled into the circling drive and parked the car, grabbing his things and running into the house. It was 5:22. He skipped stairs as he rushed to the bedroom, throwing his things on the bed. He removed his gun holster and his wallet before he changed into a clean pair of pants and jacket. He didn't bother with a tie, knowing that he'd be the only one who wore one if he did bother. His rushed pace slowed as he relaxed and headed down the stairs in search of Mira. Along the way, he ran into Nina. They paused on the stairs; an uncomfortable silence fell for a few minutes before Nina spoke.
"Mira is waiting for you in the Green Parlor," she said stiffly. Don nodded his thanks and headed towards the back of the house. He passed a number of rooms, each decorated and painted differently. Each one, though, had several bookcases lining the walls. He looked for a room decorated in green and smiled when he spotted Mira in a room filled with green velvets and satins. He approached the room silently, not wanting to disturb her.
Mira sat in a large, antique armchair with a book occupying her thoughts. Her slender hand, her knuckles rest against her right temple, propped up her head. She was dressed in a white, chiffon dress that cut off at her knees. Satin ribbons wrapped themselves around her midsection. Her hair was up simply; numerous ringlets of chestnuts gathered on her head and pinned in place. A few managed to free themselves, tickling her face pleasantly as she moved. Around her wrist was a simple, silver, charm bracelet. There was only one charm on the thin band of silver, a scripted M.
Don leaned against the doorway, watching lovingly as she continued to be absorbed by the book that she had indulged in. It was a few minutes before Mira realized he was there. She glanced up from the book and seemed to be startled as her eyes met his. The book fell from her hand into her lap, and the fugitive ringlets bounced with surprise. Her green eyes widened for a moment then resumed their natural allure, half shaded by her eyelids in a constant gaze of kindness.
"I didn't see you," she murmured as she recollected herself and picked the book from her lap. Don shrugged and entered the room he had never seen before. Mira stood quietly and put the book back on the shelf nearest the gas fireplace.
"I didn't want to be seen, I guess. I liked watching you read," he replied, slipping a hand around her waist and pulling her towards him slowly. Mira blushed and gave him a quick kiss.
"I think we ought to be leaving," she whispered as they broke off. Don nodded and nudged her head softly. Mira gave him a bright smile and picked up her white handbag from the coffee table. He wove his fingers with hers and walked her to the front door, where they retrieved her white jacket. Don helped her slip into it and continued to walk her out the door and to his awaiting vehicle. Mira watched him, her smiled still on her face and illuminating the coming night. He opened the door for her and waited patiently as she slid into the seat. Not a word passed between them, only gentle smiles.
When she was inside the car, he slid into the driver's seat and started the car. While still in park, Don put his gun in the space that was between them and slipped his wallet into his coat pocket. He put the car into gear and drove off, one hand firmly on the wheel. The other was grasping Mira's hand gently, his thumb caressing her fingers. The tension and anxiousness of the day vanished as they drove into the evening.