Harry’s reprise

Page 20 in the series Before the Pirates Came*

Harry was watching Miranda from the parking lot in his new Porsche 911 GT3 (limited production, 0-60mph in 4.5 seconds).  Miranda was no adventurer, that much he knew.  What is she doing up there?  And isn’t that the snow suit I bought her in Aspen?  He fondly recalled that even when she skied she kept a red lipstick in her pocket for touch-ups on the slopes.  And who were those rough-looking men cheering her on?  Harry frowned.  His ex-wife had alot of explaining to do…

Miranda was captivated by the view of the lighthouse, the cold embrace of Lake Michigan, and the quaint shops on Bridge Street below.   But most of all, she loved the sight of her boat, her new symbol of guts, grit, and glory.  It wasn’t until Ron and Luke lowered her carefully to the ground that she looked toward the parking lot.  Luke shouted, ”Welcome to the team, Miranda… I can’t believe you made it!” 

There were toasts, high-fives, and congratulations all around as she watched  Harry Stowe walk down the ramp, not looking pleased.  Even so, he was more handsome than ever;  tall and fit and wearing those gorgeous loafers he bought on their last trip to Italy.  Miranda hadn’t been shopping in ages (except for West Marine to order replacement parts).  Come to think of it, she hadn’t missed shopping at all.

Harry smiled, hugged her, and kissed her forehead.  But she could sense him scowling at her friends.  He was always the jealous type and liked being in control.  Even before she made the introductions, she could feel his anger starting to boil.  She was still his ex-wife, after all, and he didn’t like what he was seeing.  Miranda put her hand on Harry’s arm and quietly guided him away.

“Love is patient, love is kind.  It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.  It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.”               1Corinthians 13:4-5 (NIV)    

The spectacle of the tall PVC structures and the festive atmosphere on the dock took Harry by surprise, that’s all.  Following marine protocol, he asked permission to come aboard.  Miranda did a quick mental inventory to determine whether there was anything down below that she didn’t want him to see, like the coffee can, a pile of cash, or a half empty fifth of scotch.   She asked him to take off his shoes so they wouldn’t mark the clean white deck.  He scoffed, and came aboard.    

Harry raised an eyebrow.  Since he first saw the old boat, “Seeking Miranda” had been transformed into a warm, enchanting  hideaway.  The mahogany woodwork looked rich, even though it needed another coat of varnish.  Her little cuddy cabin, the place where she slept and read and dreamed at night was as luxurious as their bed at home– almost.  A fringed chenille throw covered the electric blanket that Charlie brought her the other night.  Life was good. 

Harry was taken aback by her lavish quarters.  Miranda was stunned that she really didn’t care.  Was she finally growing up?  Gaining a vision for herself as a capable adult instead of someone’s arm candy?  Harry eased into the reason for his visit.  He cleared his throat, smoothed back his hair.  He wanted Miranda to come home, back to the castle where she belonged.  She opened her eyes wide, couldn’t believe it.  He said they could put the past behind them and start over.  Harry still loved her.

“Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life.”  Proverbs 4:23 (NIV)

Miranda fought back tears.  She never expected this.  Dreamed about it, but never thought it could happen…

*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.

 

© 2011, Shoes for an Imaginary Life. All rights reserved.

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12 Responses to Harry’s reprise

  1. Jan says:

    You certainly know how to write a cliff-hanger! I will fall asleep tonight wondering if she is going back to the castle, or staying on the boat, snuggled into her little nest.

    • Linda says:

      Castle or the boat? I bet you know which one…

      Fifth wheels have a lot of cool hiding places if I remember right. My family never had one, but we went to all the camper shows at the fairgrounds. We had a Coachman trailor that we all really loved! ; )

  2. Debbie says:

    Oh my . . .I didn’t see this coming! Now my brain is spinning. How much independence has Miranda gained and liked having? Does she see Harry with any different understanding now? Oh I will have fun waiting and seeing! :)
    God bless you and yours, dear lovely Linda, highly beloved daughter of the Most High King! love and hugs!

    • Linda says:

      Miranda will soon find out that the only “different understanding” she needs, is to know she is the “highly beloved daughter of the Most High King.” He is the only one who matters even though she doesn’t know it yet. ; )

  3. “…He was always the jealous type and liked being in control…”

    Love and jealousy in us humans is usually a problem, but not so with God. Okay, write on.

    • Linda says:

      Do you ever look back and wonder what on earth you were thinking? Back then, I took jealousy as a compliment. Human, yes… but toxic, too.

      I really like reading your comments. I’m about 10 pages ahead of what’s posted and you’ve giving me some new ways to think about my character. So thank you! : )

  4. Jan says:

    We’ve had three fifth wheels, two pop-ups, and an RV, and yes, all of them had innumerable hidey-holes and secret spots, and even a few black holes into which things vanished, sometimes never to be seen again. We also once had a 22 ft. Venture sailboat, and it had a lot of little cubbies too. I love all those little spots. Wish I had more of them here in the cabin! sometimes I really miss living in that little cozy snug space.

    • Linda says:

      Cozy and snug… I miss that, too.

      We had a pop-up, too, when us kids were pretty little. We took it to a campground for a week, an hour away from home, close enough that my dad could commute to work. One day after we had been to the beach, we got back to the camper and my mom didn’t have the key. We panicked! What were we going to do? We would starve if we couldn’t get inside to the food!

      My mom called my dad (pay phone!) and he raced to the campground. He unhooked the velco from around the door and we all went inside. The key was on the table. Funny the stuff we remember…

  5. Theresa says:

    I’ve gotten behind in reading blogs, but I’m so glad that I get to go read the next one…I’m in suspense!

  6. Ferd says:

    Wow! Choices. Turning points. What to do!?

  7. Superb webpage you have in here.|

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