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Then I blew out the candles, and Karen cut the cake.
‘What did you wish for?’ Julia asked.
‘I can’t tell you, or it won’t come true, right?’ I took a bite of the cake, hoping my hair covered my face enough to conceal the way my cheeks were turning red. There was no way I would share my wish with anyone.
I left the Reid’s at nine that evening, and just as I was about to unlock our front door, I heard Jack call, ‘Hey, Miranda! Wait up.’
I held the door open for him, and he ran across their lawn and up the steps to the house.
‘Are you coming in?’ I asked when he hesitated.
He swallowed, as though unsure of what to say. ‘Is that ok?’
‘Uh-huh.’ I nodded, suddenly aware that we were alone. He came in the hallway and stopped.
‘Did you want something?’ I asked.
‘Yeah.’ His dirty blonde hair was messy on his head, and his blue eyes pierced me. ‘I’ve been thinking…’ He took a step closer and reached for my hand.
‘Okay…?’ My cheeks were heating up, and I felt electric. Like I was on fire or would combust at any minute. My mind was racing with all the possibilities.
‘Can I… kiss you?’
I pulled in a sharp breath and gave a slow nod. ‘Yes.’
The hesitation in his eyes gave way to a smile. ‘Good.’ He kept hold of my hand and his other hand slipped round my neck and cupped the back of my head. I closed my eyes as he brought his lips to mine for a quick peck. Then he did it again, staying longer this time. All thought fled my mind, and I put my free hand on his upper arm, holding on to him as my legs grew weak. His tongue swept out and licked the top of my lip before he nipped it lightly with his teeth. My eyes flew open, and the grin on his face was everything.
He pulled me closer, wrapping his arms around me as he breathed me in.
I think we were both surprised at how different this kiss was compared to the previous one. And, as both of us liked it, we figured we would keep doing it.
So began my teenage years. And my romantic relationship with Jack.
Chapter 8
Present
Jack
Settling back into Edinburgh after being away was harder than I had expected. I still worked at the same company, and much of my job remained the same, but there were lots of new people to get to know and the office culture and politics were different. There had been office politics in Hong Kong too, but I was used to them. And, though I was working for the same company, which was meant to work on the same systems, I found the secretaries in Edinburgh had their own rather finickity ways of doing things. The longer I was there, the more convinced I became that the head secretary, Liz, had been in the job for too long and needed to be replaced. The bureaucracy she implemented was driving me crazy. It wasn’t just me; the other secretaries couldn’t stand her, and several of my colleagues would just shake their head whenever I asked about how the system worked. Still, she probably had another ten years left before retirement, and the department boss seemed fond of her.
I resigned myself to learn her ways and conform.
Maybe hardest of all though, was moving back in with Mum and Dad. They were great, and I was thankful to have a room to return to, but after living on my own for six years, I had come to appreciate my own space.
It made sense to wait to get my own place until after I returned from going Hong Kong to tie up the last strings, but since coming home I had spent many hours online looking for flats or houses to move into.
Mum seemed happy to have me home again. She made sure to cook all my favourite foods and invited me to come to church with her. I hadn’t been much of a churchgoer before going to Hong Kong, and my time away hadn’t changed my stance on God. I had heard my whole life – and especially after Josie died – that God was in control. I think people at church took comfort from this. They kept saying that God had a plan and he knew what he was doing. For me, though, the concept of God being in control didn’t bring comfort.
At all.
If God was in control, then the pain and suffering in the world were his doing. He sent people to hell and, worse, he made people live through hell on earth. And though I should perhaps try to live a life that would appease an all-powerful God that appeared to like to put his so-called children through suffering, I couldn’t bring myself to want to. Instead I felt disdain for him, and I wanted nothing to do with him. Some might say I was throwing the baby out with the bathwater, and maybe they had a point. Christianity did seem to bring a lot of people a lot of peace in life – and I knew God meant a lot to my parents. But I couldn’t seem to separate a baby from the bathwater – it all seemed too jumbled up to try to work out which bits to keep and which to throw out. It was easier to just throw it all out.
So, though I knew Mum was only doing what she thought was best for me in asking me to come to church, it soon started getting on my nerves. I had only been home for a few weeks, and already I was reaching for the techniques I had learned in counselling in Hong Kong. I counted to ten, took deep breaths, reminded myself that Mum is trying to show me she cares, reminded myself of my values, and so on. Still, it was clear I needed my own place.
So, when Nick texted and wanted to play squash, I dug out an old racquet that had seen better days and went. I got a strange text from Julia on the way over telling me to ‘be nice to Nick’. It was strange mainly because Julia had made no secret of the fact that Nick wasn’t her favourite person. So, she had either broken him, or something had changed.
It all became clear when Nick got in my car. He didn’t look broken at all. Rather the opposite. Unable to hold back my smile, I said, ‘Julia and you finally decided to go for it, huh?’
He shook his head. ‘Something like that, yes.’ It looked like he had won the lottery – which was unlikely as he would say the lottery was a tax on stupidity – or like he had found a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.
I slapped him on the shoulder. ‘About time, man.’ I knew Nick had always been interested in Julia, and I was happy they had finally decided to give it a go. Besides, Nick was already family – this would only solidify that fact.
My squash game was rusty, and Nick won three straight sets. I don’t think I could have beaten him that day even if I had been at the top of my game, though. Besides, I was distracted by thinking about Miranda. If I was honest – and I was learning how to be – I spent most of my time thinking about Miranda. It seemed impossible not to. I couldn’t explain exactly why – maybe it was her clever brain, or her kind heart, or just her beautiful eyes – but I was entirely wrapped up in thinking about her.
After talking to her a few times over the last few weeks, it had become clear to me that though she had agreed to be friends, she would rather be acquaintances. I didn’t want to cross any boundaries, but I was starting to get frustrated with her lack of wanting to go beyond the surface of anything. And after not seeing her for six years, it was clear we had a lot of time to catch up on. Only she didn’t seem keen on catching up at all.
Once in a while I would catch her looking at me. Her eyes seemed to say she still cared about me, and that gave me some hope. Still, as soon as I would meet her eyes, she would look away and start talking about something mundane.
Like the weather.
I had forgotten how much of conversation in Scotland circled around the weather. In Hong Kong the weather was whatever it was. Mostly it was warm. In Scotland, on the other hand, the weather seemed to be the only thing people ever talked about. Not because it was such a riveting topic of conversation – although, to be fair, we’d had a few very nice weeks since I got home. No, people talked about the weather because they wanted to be acquainted and polite, but they didn’t want to be vulnerable and talk about things that actually mattered.
That was fine when I was at the office. At the end of the day, who really wanted to know the thoughts and feelings of the people there? Not me.
But when it came to Miranda, it grat
ed on me. We had never had the kind of relationship where we wanted to talk about the weather before. And who cared about the weather when we could be talking about things that mattered?
I think Nick could tell my focus wasn’t on playing squash, but I didn’t want to burden him with my confusion and frustration when he was so obviously happy. Instead, after dropping Nick at his flat, I turned up the music as The Black Keys’ Howlin’ for You came on the radio. Trying not to think about Miranda, I sang along with the music at the top of my lungs. When even the music couldn’t get me out of my head, I decided to stop in to see Michael.
Michael and Sophia shared a nice two bedroom flat in Newington, which was close to both Arthur’s Seat and the University, and I laughed when I saw the tag on the doorbell – The Huxleys. How they had managed to convince us all that they were ‘just friends’ – after being married and living together for five years – was anyone’s guess.
Michael was in the kitchen making dinner when I got there. Passing me a beer from the fridge, he asked, ‘You staying to eat?’
‘Sure, if there’s enough?’
‘Yeah, I’ll just make some extra rice. I think we have another pack of naan bread in the freezer too. Let me check.’ He opened the freezer and rummaged about until he found what he was looking for. ‘I take it you survived squash with Nick.’
I snorted. ‘Just. He won three straight sets.’
‘Yeah, he’s upped his game since we all first started playing.’ Michael had rice on the stove and chicken frying. He stirred the chicken quickly before going back to chopping vegetables to add to the pan.
‘That, or maybe it was because I haven’t played since moving to Hong Kong. I’m a bit rusty.’ I took a sip of the beer.
‘Yeah?’ He smirked. ‘I can imagine you’ll be feeling rusty all round being back here. Takes a while to settle back in after being gone for that long, eh?’
I nodded. ‘Yeah.’
‘It’s the same for me whenever I go back to Canada. Man, I love Canada, but it’s different from here, and it takes some getting used to.’
‘Yeah, everything is different, but it’s okay. It’s mostly nice to be back.’ An image of Miranda sitting across from me at her kitchen table floated through my mind, making me smile. Her determination to make Project Cup work despite everything being against them struck a chord deep inside me. And her thorough plans and assessments of what needed to happen – watching her amazing mind go into action to create something – was inspiring. Her spreadsheets made me believe that the world could be changed.
She had changed in the years I had been away. She was always one of the most real people I had known, and that part of her had intensified. Her realness used to scare me, but now I wanted it. Now it felt like I would never be able to breathe without it. And now every time she withheld her honesty from me, I felt deprived. Like she didn’t trust me with it. I knew she had every reason not to trust me, and though I had only been back for a few weeks, I already knew I would give anything for her to trust me again.
‘Uh-huh.’ Michael shrugged. ‘What’s up with Miranda and you? She seemed a bit… prickly towards you last night.’ He was referring to how we had all been at Nick and Julia’s flat the previous evening. Nick had remodelled the kitchen in their flat and had made us all ribs to celebrate it being done.
‘Yeah.’ I winced. Prickly was the right word. Like she didn’t want me to get to close. ‘She swings between being polite and a wee bit passive aggressive.’
‘Huh.’
‘I don’t really know what’s going on. I’m trying to give her time to get to know me again, and to sort out anything that needs sorting out from the past. I think there’s some unresolved hurt around how I left and then broke up with her, but she’s very reluctant to go there. Last week I got her to tell me about the social enterprise, and she seemed fine to talk about it then. She’s amazing, you know? She’s got the whole business plan, and if Mir is in, then that social enterprise is going to be successful, no matter what they’re selling.’
‘M-hm.’ Michael twisted his lips as if hiding a smile.
‘But this week she’s been like a clam about everything.’ It was driving me crazy.
‘Maybe she’s trying to tell you to back off?’
‘Do you think?’ I rubbed my stubbly cheek and leaned against the kitchen counter.
‘I don’t know. Maybe.’ He waved the spatula he was using to stir the pan as he answered. ‘Or maybe she’s feeling confused and doesn’t know how to handle the situation. It’s got to be a bit weird for her – that her former fiancé who left her at a really crappy time in her life now is back and wants to be friends. Don’t you think?’
‘Well sure, I get that it’s weird.’ I nodded. I did get it. ‘It’s weird for me too, you know?’
‘Uh-huh, sure. Still, it’s different for you, though. You decided now is the right time to come home, whereas she just has to react to your decision.’ Eyes narrowed, he scanned my face. ‘None of this would be a problem unless you want her back. Right?’
I met his eyes and cleared my throat. ‘Right.’
‘Are you serious?’ Sophia’s eyes were wide as she looked at me and entered the kitchen.
‘Hey, where did you come from?’ I asked, as I tried to keep my stomach from sinking over how one of Miranda’s best friends had just heard me say I wanted to get back together with her.
‘I was in my room packing for… Never mind that.’ She waved a hand in the air dismissively. ‘You were saying you want to get back together with Miranda?’
‘Um…’ Leaning against the kitchen counter still, I hung my head, trying to think of how to get her off my back.
‘Yes or no, Jack.’
I braced myself as I looked at her. ‘Don’t tell her.’
‘I don’t think you get to decide what I tell anyone.’ Sophia bit the inside of her cheek as she studied me.
‘True.’ I nodded. ‘Still. She’s reluctant to want to hang out, even as friends. If she finds out I want more at this point, she’ll freak out completely.’
‘She has reason to, though, doesn’t she.’ Sophia was stating facts, not asking questions.
I sighed and looked away. ‘Yeah.’
‘Tell me why I shouldn’t let her know.’
I pressed my lips together as I considered my words. I didn’t want to share anything with Sophia, but if she was going to keep this between us, I would have to give her something. I shrugged. ‘Back then, I wasn’t good for her. She went through a whole lot of crap, and I couldn’t handle it. She wanted to get married, and I did too, but it would have been awful for her. Breaking up with her then was the right decision.’
‘And I suppose you explained all this when you broke up with her, so she could weigh in and you could make such a decision together?’ Sophia’s eyebrows were high on her forehead, her eyes narrow as she tilted her head to the side.
‘No, I didn’t.’ I pushed my hand through my hair and hung it behind my neck as I focused on her. ‘Look, I agree with you. I did everything wrong back then.’
‘Huh. You think?’ Sophia nodded, her words dripping with sarcasm. She took a deep breath, as though she was reminding herself to be patient with me. ‘Why do you think now is going to be different?’
‘I can’t know that anything is going to be different this time. But I have changed. I was immature and irresponsible back then. I’ve spent the last six years working on becoming a better person. I’m not done – I never will be – but I’m ready to try again.’
Sophia studied my face for a long time. She must have found whatever it was she was looking for, because then she nodded. ‘Ok. I’ll help.’
Michael smirked. ‘I didn’t hear anyone asking for your help.’
‘Oh Michael, Michael, Michael…’ Sophia muttered and shook her head as she got some cutlery out of the drawer. Turning to face him, she waved the cutlery in the air. ‘If he’s ever going to get Miranda back, he’s going to need help. I bet
he doesn’t even have a plan.’
Michael looked at her as though he didn’t believe his ears. ‘He hasn’t asked for you to meddle, though.’
‘But-’
‘Hey.’ I waved my hands at them. ‘Still right here.’
Sophia glanced at me before turning her attention back to Michael. ‘I’m just saying he’s going to need help.’
‘Uh-huh.’ I sighed. ‘I hesitate to ask this, but why do you think I need help?’
‘Tell me your plan, and I’ll tell you if it’s any good.’ Sophia’s eyebrows were raised as she waited for me to speak.
‘Uh…’
‘See!’ She turned to Michael, her hands in an I rest my case gesture. ‘He doesn’t have a plan.’
Michael pressed his lips together and shrugged as though he was giving in to her madness. ‘Mhm, yeah.’
I shrugged. ‘Ok, fine. My plan is to be friends with her and let her see how I’ve changed. And as she sees who I am, and gets to know me again, I hope she’ll fall in love with me. Again.’
‘Uh-huh. That’s a great plan.’ Sophia nodded as though she agreed, then raised her hands and eyebrows as she said, ‘If you want to spend the next fifty years pining away for her.’
I frowned. ‘Why do you think it would take that long?’
‘With a plan like that, you’ll be dead before she ever decides she wants to be with you.’ Sophia shook her head. ‘Men!’
Michael turned the cooker off and got plates out. ‘Dinner’s ready. Let’s eat.’
‘Look, I’m not saying I’m Don Juan or anything…’ I caught Michael’s amused look and I winked at Sophia. ‘But I think she’d come around quicker than that.’
Sophia took a plate and filled it up with food before passing it to me and doing the same for Michael and herself. ‘Unsurprisingly, Miranda has massive trust issues when it comes to men. You’ve got to by-pass her distrust if you’re to ever have a chance of her falling in love with you again.’