Page 31 of Not Another Yesterday
I reach behind me to turn off the nightstand light. My movement causes Miranda to conform her body to mine, and she hitches her right leg over my thigh just like she would when she’d sneak into my room in Montana. And then it hits me. Holy shit. I can’t believe it took me so long to think of this.
I carefully unravel myself from Miranda’s hold on me, pull my arm out from underneath her, then glance at the watch on my right wrist. It’s almost two in the morning—1 a.m. where my grandparents are.
Wednesday, December 21st
Ronan
I didn’t sleep much last night, but I did finally doze off for a few hours after I came up with the rough outline of a plan. It was just enough to ease my mind a little, to let me get some rest.
I sit up, my hands on either side of my hips, and fuck if my back isn’t pissed at me. Between the eight-hundred-mile drive and this shitty lump of fabric stuffed with creaky springs calling itself a mattress, I’m in desperate need of a chiropractor—or one of those medieval rack devices that pull your limbs apart. Honestly, sounds kind of amazing right now.
The few hours of shuteye I did get were piss-poor, partially because of my ruminating mind and partially because Miranda’s slightest shifts caused the bed to squeak and the mattress to ripple like we were on a raft on the open sea. None of it was conducive to good rest. I’m actually shocked that Miranda is able to sleep as soundly as she does, but then again, she was probably wiped out from all that adrenaline coursing through her veins and the waves of powerful emotions she had to brave most of the day. I’m glad she slept. She needed it way more than me.
I half expect my joints to creak like the damn bed frame when I finally roll out of bed at just after five. The tightness in my back is rivaled only by the stiffness in my knee, which I suspect has more to do with the cold temperatures than the sleeping arrangements. My knee has been getting progressively more “difficult” with the change in seasons, locking up when I don’t spend enough time warming up before a workout, or just deciding to ache for no apparent reason. Good times.
After the briefest, quietest trip to the bathroom during which I try to focus on anything but the mold-riddled grout cementing the yellowed tile to the wall, I put on my shoes and jacket, grab the room key, then slip out the door.
It’s frosty, but not nearly as cold as New York, where I’d have to scrape the ice off my windshield right now. Still, I find the contact I need in my phone, then shove my right hand into my jacket pocket while holding my phone to my ear with my left.
“Soult Ranch,” my grandma answers on the third ring, making a giant grin appear on my lips.
“Hi, Morai.”
“Baby boy? Oh my goodness, hi!” she says with such glee, one would think she just received the most incredible news of her life. But her inflection changes to concerned in an instant. “What’s wrong? Why are you calling us in the middle of the night?”
I chuckle. “Well, it’s not the middle of the night where I am.”
“True, but it’s still very, very early in the morning. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Actually, no. Morai, I need to talk to you and Athair about something important.”
“What is it, baby boy? Did something happen? Are you okay?”
“I’m okay, Morai, but Randi isn’t.” I tell her about Miranda’s phone call to me the day before, what happened to her, and that I’m in Tennessee right now.
“This asshole took everything from her, Morai. I mean, everything. She literally only has the clothes on her body and her ID. No money, no phone, no car.”
“That’s terrible,” my grandmother says. “What kind of person would do that?”
“I mean, I think we can agree there are a lot of not-so-great people in this world,” I say dryly. “Morai, I know I’m asking a lot, but do you think Randi could come back to the ranch for a while? Maybe she could help you and Athair for a few months, get her bearings while shetries to figure out what’s next? She’ll need a place to stay and a way to earn some money so she can start over.”
I shut my eyes tightly. Miranda always had it tough with my grandma, though she did warm up to her a little while Miranda worked on the ranch for a few months earlier this year before she just up and left overnight. I hope my grandma has thawed enough to agree to take in Miranda for a while.
“Yes, of course,” she says, and my eyes snap open. “She can stay in the same cabin she stayed in last time. This is actually great timing. We’re approaching calving season and we’re expecting a few guests over the holidays. As you know, there’s never a work shortage on the ranch, so we can certainly keep her busy.”
My lungs expand with a cleansing inhale of the crisp morning air. “God, thank you, Morai. You’re the best.”
I continue to talk to my grandmother for another ten minutes as we figure out the details of Miranda’s arrival on the ranch.
“Okay, I’ll talk with Randi and let you know how it goes. Hopefully she won’t fight me too much on this idea.” I sigh, knowing how damn stubborn Miranda can be. “Hyper-independent” is probably the word Dr. Seivert would use; that’s how she’s described me and my total inability to ask for help from… well, anyone.
“She won’t,” my grandmother says with conviction and a smile in her voice. “She’s strong-willed, but she knows when to accept help, especially from you.”
“I hope you’re right. I love you, Morai. So much.”
“Oh, baby boy, I love you more. Call when you’ve had a chance to talk to Miranda and we’ll get everything ready,” she says. “And then get home to Cat as soon as you can.”
I chuckle. “I’m planning on it.” I say my goodbyes before ending the conversation.
