Page 60… in a fiction series
Miranda decided it was time to buy a house. Life at the Petoskey City Marina was disastrous… loud music, crazy drunks, and people running around on the docks all night. She found herself missing the stillness and strange beauty of the boat basin in Charlevoix. And she missed the people there, too– except Niel Lipman.
By August she couldn’t wait to get out. One morning, as a tribe of undisciplined children set off bottle rockets near her aft deck, Miranda sat reading the local paper. According to the business section, interest rates were at an all time low. Miranda sipped her coffee, studied the fine print, and thought about the money she had in the bank. Maybe it was enough to buy a home of her own…
She scanned the real estate pages, called the agent, and set up a time to look at some houses. She fell in love with the first one, made an offer, and moved in two weeks later. Like her marriages, Miranda didn’t waste time making important decisions. But unlike Brian Parker Hall and Harry Stowe, this choice turned out to be perfect.
With the same joy she found in restoring her old boat, making the necessary improvements to her little house was a welcomed endeavour. Woodwork was stripped of its thick layers of paint, stain and varnish were lovingly applied. Wood floors were brought back to their original lustre, and the kitchen countertops were covered with ceramic tile. It helped that Drew Becker, with his power tools and strong hands, was experienced with this sort of thing.
Even though Miranda faithfully took her lithium every day, and shunned even the smell of alcohol, she was becoming restless, staying up late at night, excited about her next project. Thoughts about paint colors, draperies, and leather furniture began swirling around in her head while she was trying to get to sleep. These were warning signs of an approaching manic episode, but she was so busy at work, there was really no time to address it.
She would try her best to go to bed a little earlier, drink warm milk, and spend more time at the gym burning up all that energy. More than anything, Miranda didn’t want Tiller to know. He had done so much for her, she would never want to let him down.
But Miranda secretly knew what was happening. There were doctors and medications that could quiet the oncoming storm, save her from whatever consequences lie ahead. But the spinning in her head felt familiar and good– like the highest roller coaster at her favorite amusement park. Miranda wanted to ride in the front seat.
To be continued…
*This story is based on some true events, however, has been fictionalized and all persons appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
© 2012, Shoes for an Imaginary Life. All rights reserved.