***So far, in the Miranda Chronicals, Miranda has lost her job, her boyfriend and is now the temporary mom to ex-boyfriend's teenage son.  She just got her job back and is still trying to cope with a kid who really doesn't want to be around her.***

 

 

 

So, it's Saturday morning and I'm just out of the shower when there's a knock on the door to my trailer.   I don't have many visitors.  It's usually some neighbor wanting to borrow something or needing a ride into town.  But, standing here naked, clad only in a towel, I'm not in the mood for favors.  The knock is louder the second time.

 

"Hold on," I shout.

 

Waylon sits up on the couch, rubbing his eyes.  "Go on.  I got it."

 

I hustle back to my room to get dressed.  Just in case it's not a nice visitor I need to be dressed because it's hard to kick ass and be a force to be reckoned with when you're clutching a towel over your tits.

 

I pop into my jeans and am listening intently for sounds of trouble when I hear Waylon tell this person to come in.  The thought that it might be Dougie Wilcox, hat in hand, coming to beg forgiveness crosses my mind.  But guys like Dougie don't beg for forgiveness.  No, they come back assuming you were never mad in the first place.

 

I pull the curtain back to find Aaron Earl standing there. 

 

"What the hell, Aaron?  It's eight thirty on a Saturday morning.  If your trailer isn't on fire or there isn't some emergency, I might just be pissed."

 

Aaron grins. "You're funny, Miranda.  No, listen,  I got big news."

 

"Ok."

 

"I got a new truck."

 

"Are you going around to every person in the park to tell them, too, or am I just the lucky one?"

 

He laughs.  There are times when Aaron reminds me of Shaggy from the cartoon Scooby-Doo.  He's tall and lanky, hasn't seen a barber in over a decade because he still let's his momma cut his hair on the front porch.  And he's a pot head.  

 

"I came to tell you because I need a favor."

 

And there you have it. The knock followed by small talk and then the dreaded favor.

 

"What?"

 

"I said that I needed to ask a favor."

 

"Aaron, I heard what you said.  What favor?"

 

"I need you to ride with me to get my old truck and drive it back here."

 

Of all the things I don't want to do today that is officially at the top of the list.  I'm trying my best to figure out a plausible excuse because men have a tendency to take the word NO so personally.  I look over at Waylon who is still in that stage of stupor before your feet hit the floor in the morning.

 

"Waylon, you have any special plans for today?"

 

He squints a painful looking squint that means he's thinking.  He shakes his head.  "I just gotta get some samples of natural water from some places around here."

 

I look over at Aaron to see if he knew what Waylon was talking about. But he looked just as clueless as I felt.

 

"For my Marine Biology class."

 

Aaron nods his head. "We can stop by Haynes Pond."

 

"Ew.  Bring a strainer with you. That place is full of used condoms," I say.

 

Both of them look at me.

 

"At least, that's what I've heard," I mutter.

 

"So, you'll help me out?   I'll buy y'all lunch."

 

Waylon shrugs and stretches.  "I need to shower."

 

"I'd hold off on that," Aaron says. "It's pretty muddy there.  You're not gonna come out of there clean.  Just go brush your teeth and splash some water on your face."

 

"Give us about thirty minutes," I say as I usher Aaron to the door. 

 

"Ok, thanks, Miranda."

 

When I hear Waylon close the bathroom door I walk over to where his phone is charging.  I'm surprised it isn't locked.  And even though I know it's a violation of his privacy, I do what every other mother does, I check his messages.  One person in particular.  There are thirteen unanswered texts to his Dad.  I look towards the bathroom door as I put his phone down.  Dougie has no plans of coming back for Waylon.   And seeing as how the last text Waylon sent was two days ago, I think Waylon realizes this as well.

 

I fold up his blanket and the sheet and set them on the back of the couch.

 

There is the tiniest room on the opposite side of the trailer.   I use it as a storage area but I think with some cleaning out, it just might make a nice little bedroom for him.  I mean, he can't sleep on the couch forever.  I know that if he agrees to it, he's accepted the fact that Dougie isn't coming back.

 

"I'm ready," he says.  He grabs his backpack off the floor by the door and pulls his books out.  There are four glass bottles with blank labels on them.  He starts writing.   "What's the name of that place we're going to? Condom lake?"

 

"No," I say frantically then I notice the tiniest smirk.  "Oh, good one kid."

 

He puts the bottle gingerly into the empty backpack.  "I'm ready."

 

I grab my keys, a baseball cap and my sunglasses and stop. "You want to take your phone?"

 

Waylon shrugs. "Nah, nobody's gonna call me anyway."

 

"Ok."

 

He steps out onto the porch and I glance once more at his phone.  "Dougie, for once, do the right thing.  Call your kid."  I think as I slide his phone into my back pocket.

 

 

To be continued...