A Little R and R.

So far, Miranda is raising the son of her ex-lover, Dougie. After he disappeared without a word, Miranda got temporary custody of the boy, Waylon. Now, Dougie has returned and she is afraid that he is back to take Waylon from her. When Waylon's teacher is murdered, Dougie is the prime suspect. Miranda knows that Dougie might be a lot of things, but he is no killer.

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Mitch shows up at my trailer at four-forty-five. He looks so handsome. But then, he always does. I do my best to clean myself up. I even took the curling iron to my hair.

"Wow," he says, stepping into the house. "You look gorgeous."

"Thank you, Officer."

"Where's Waylon?" Mitch asks glancing left then right. "How was his dad today?"

"Well, Dougie seems to think we are still a couple. He was asking me if his beer was in the fridge for when he gets released from the hospital."

"I called the hospital earlier today. Hoping the doctor would let me come try to get a statement from him. Guess I should wait another day or two, huh?" Mitch scratches his chin and grabs my jacket off the hook by the door. "So, what did you say when he asked about his beer?"

I slip my arms into the waiting jacket and shrug. "What is there to say, Mitch? He is obviously still messed up. It's been almost three years."

Mitch nods and holds the door open for me to leave. "So, he thinks he's coming here when he gets released? Next time he says something like that, tell him I have a room down at the station for him."

I let it slide. Mitch is jealous. I don't have a clue why, but all signs point to jealousy. Men are like that. They get very puffed up when it comes to another man, especially an ex-boyfriend, making comments about what they consider theirs. It doesn't matter that Dougie has a snowball's chance in hell of ever getting back with me. It's the principal of the thing to Mitch. My own dad got jealous when the butcher at the Piggly Wiggly told my mom he cuts the pork chops extra thick for her. The thing is, my dad loved pork chops, and that was the only reason my mom even went to the meat department anyway.

He dives us to the beach and we park at an access. The wind is whipping the sea oats and grasses north. It's a good ten degrees cooler here than it was at home. But the sky is beautiful. A classic Carolina blue with a slight wisp of a cloud. The gulls call out as they fly overhead.

"What is it about living just a couple of miles from the beach, and yet, here it is almost November and this is only the third time I've been down here." Mitch sighs as he takes my hand and leads me to the walkway.

"We have jobs and other responsibilities, Mitch. Any free time is always filled with other things to do. It gets too cold in the winter and too crowded in the summer."

"Still, seems like a waste of paradise to me."

I turn to kiss his cheek. "Paradise is where ever you want it to be."

He grins. "Guess where I'm thinking paradise is?"

I roll my eyes and tug at his arm. "Let's walk."

We walk down near the shoreline. Both of us kick our shoes off at the start of the access, and the cool sand feels good.

"Miranda, how do you feel about Dougie, I mean, now that he's back?"

"Exactly the same way I felt about him after he left me. Nothing. Do I care about him? Yes. Do I love him? No. And to be perfectly honest, I don't know if I ever did. Puppy love maybe, but not real love. What I feel for you, Mitch, that's real. Get that through your head, mister. You are stuck with me."

I see the tension drain from his face. He puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me close. "I was hoping you would say that, Tiger."

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Momma drops Waylon off around eleven. She took him to dinner and a movie. It seems to be their thing. I don't ever recall her taking me to a movie other than to drop me off with friends. But those two have really bonded since he came into my life. He has become her unofficial grandson.

"What time did you and Momma leave the hospital?" I ask, brushing out my wet hair after my shower.

"Around six-thirty. Dad kept falling asleep."

"Well, being sick or injured can certainly put a strain on your body. After I got hurt, I slept more than I have in forever. Just takes some time. He'll get there."

Waylon looks up and seems to be troubled. "He thinks you guys are still together."

"I thought maybe he did. But, it's okay, Waylon, his memory will come back. Eventually, Dougie will understand what is going on. We don't need to worry about that right now."

"He wants you to come sit with him again tomorrow."

"I work. Did you tell him that?"

He nods. "He said he had to tell you something."

"Any idea what?"

Waylon shakes his head. "No. Just said it was important and you'd understand."

"Okay, well, it's late. You have school in the morning and you haven't even taken your shower yet."

He moves past me into the bathroom and I go lay down on my bed. What does he want to tell me? God knows, I hope he doesn't tell me he loves me, we all know that would be a lie. Could he have remembered something from that night? In a perfect world, he will be able to remember what happened. What is it that he needs to tell me that I would understand?

I turn out my bedroom light and pull the covers up around me. Maybe I can make time for a quick visit in the morning. I just hope I don't end up regretting it.