Chapter 15

Frank pulled Officer Jenny's squad car up in front of 'Irene's Textile and Coffee Shop' less than ten minutes later, thankful that Jenny was in no condition to complain about his driving.

"Here ya go," he said brightly, unlocking the back doors so his niece and her partner could leave the car, "That'll be twelve ninety five!"

"Oh, ha, ha," laughed Miranda sarcastically, making her Uncle smile and thankful to be out of the cramped back seat, "Thanks, though."

Frank shrugged, his infectious grin never leaving his face. "No problem, lady," he assured, "Just have a good time, that's all I ask."

Miranda nodded, putting her arm around Misty as Frank rolled up his window and drove away. "Thanks again!" called Misty, only half believing that they were finally free of the stifling, life- draining presence of her sisters, before glancing up at Miranda with a happy smile. "So? Shall we... ?"

There were two other couples in Irene's quiet little shop, which barely took notice as they entered, and neither could blame them. The establishment was in full 'coffee shop' mode, with the lights dimmed so that small candles on the tables were necessary, soft, unobtrusive music filling the air, and the smell of freshly ground coffee kept everyone awake whether they liked it or not.

"Hello again," said Irene in a friendly, yet subdued tone, meeting them almost magically at the door as they entered, "Table for two?"

"Yes, please," laughed Miranda, the irony of the question improving her mood.

"I hope the food wasn't too bad at Troy's," the woman commented sullenly, leading them both to a pair of comfortable looking chairs with a low table between them, "I can fix you something if you'd like?"

"No, actually it was really good," assured Miranda, "It was just the company and the service we could have done without."

"Well..." said Misty, bowing her head and looking up at Irene a little guiltily through her bangs, "We didn't stay for desert, and I always have room for ice-cream. If you have it... ?"

"Of course!" the woman laughed in the "think nothing of it" tone only a mother could muster, "All I have left, though, is butterscotch ripple. Is that okay?"

"Oh, fine. Just great!" laughed Misty, sitting carefully down in the chair that would allow her to see the entire room as Miranda found her way awkwardly into the one opposite.

"Stupid dress," the woman muttered, much to Misty and Irene's amusement.

"Gee," teased Misty, crossing her legs as Miranda finally sat down and smoothed out the frustrating garment, "You're even more of a tomboy than I am!"

Miranda finally got comfortable with her hands on the arms of the mauve coloured chair she sat in and smiled. "My mom's worse," she confessed as Irene hurried off, "She's worn a dress twice in her life. And both of those were wedding dresses."

Misty glanced out the window looking thoughtfully out at the dark street for a moment. "Miranda?" she asked quietly without turning to face her.

"Yes?"

Misty took in a long slow breath, noticing the way their reflections eyes met on the surface of the window. "When, when things calm down in our lives," she began, finding it difficult to find the right words, "When Kathy is behind bars, and I've gone up against the League and maybe if you're willing to become a city bound courier... Would you? I mean, I know that such a thing is possible but..."

"Yes," repeated Miranda, leaning across the table and taking Misty's hand in her own, causing her beloved to turn to face her, "But not until we're both ready. Some things shouldn't be rushed."

For a long moment, the two simple sat, quietly staring into each other's eyes until Misty realized she was shaking, and Miranda felt as though her heart were about to burst. "But," she said, bringing her lover's fingers to her lips, kissing them gently, "You're wearing the dress."

Misty snickered, bowing her head as she blushed. "That's negotiable," she promised, glancing over as Irene glided towards them and put down a tray between them before moving on without saying a word, "But thank you for the sentiment. It's good to know you're serious... About us I mean."

"Absolutely," promised Miranda, shaking her head at the thought of being anything but, "Fifty or sixty years from now I intend to be sitting across from you, looking into your eyes and feeling the same love I feel now. Only stronger."

Misty nodded, a smile that wouldn't leave set upon her face as she sat unable to look away for several long moments as the quiet sounds of the other patrons filled the void of silence that neither of them seemed to notice. After a while, though, the teapot stopped steaming, and their ice cream began to melt. The candles burned lower, and the ticking of a clock somewhere in the shop became apparent.

"Miri, I-" she began finally, at last finding the words to express the feelings that were overwhelming her, only to be cut off by the sound of the door being thrown violently open.

The noise startled nearly everyone in the restaurant, and Miranda lost her glasses in an attempt to turn towards the source of the sound that had so rudely interrupted their moment.

The doorway was now filled by a short, thin woman who looked to be about Irene's actual age under the fourteen layers of makeup she wore. The woman's wary pale blue eyes scanned the room with more than a hint of annoyance as the breeze blew at the long, spindly strands of her darkly dyed reddish hair.

"Irene!" she called out drunkenly, waving the wine glass she held in her hand about, slopping her drink across the hardwood floor and seeming not to care, "Irene, I can't take it any more!"

After leaning against the doorframe for a moment, the woman staggered into the room like she owned the place, and tossed her long, tacky looking Winter coat off her shoulders, onto the floor. She then proceeded to walk over to the serving counter and hit the little bell repeatedly, assuring the end of any special ambiance in the room.

"Oh, hello, Rose," said Irene in a civil tone as she came out of the back room knitting a long scarf that consisted of large alternating, varying in sized squares of light brown, purplish- red, orange beige, off white and a rather dull shade of yellow, "What's wrong THIS time?"