Chapter 27
JIM
Jim tried not to sneak too many glances in Miranda’s direction on the short drive to Banner Farm.
It was taking every ounce of self-control for him to keep his eyes on the road.
He liked the way she played with a strand of hair that had fallen loose as she watched the scenery go by.
It was one of her mannerisms, like how when she laughed, she scrunched her shoulders and entire body.
Her laugh was melodic and intoxicating; it made him feel like he was in on any joke.
“What do you think you would have done if you hadn’t taken over the Green Grocer?” Jim asked, stealing another look.
“Hmm. I don’t know. That’s a good question.
I suppose I always saw myself running the store.
There’s never been a time when I haven’t loved it.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s stressful, too.
It’s not like we make millions, and there are so many moving parts.
I’m on my feet all day, and some days there isn’t even time to take a quick lunch break.
I’m constantly juggling how much to order and what to order.
I’ve had my fair share of fails over the years.
Things I thought would fly off the shelves that ended up sitting collecting dust for months until I finally had to mark them down so deeply that I took a loss.
Since I tend to hire high school students and younger workers, there has been turnover and no-shows on shifts I end up needing to cover.
But I feel so lucky to be a part of so many people’s daily lives and special memories. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”
“Yeah, I can see that.” They passed organic farms and roadside stands selling jams, jellies, homemade bread, and honey. Greenhouses and nurseries dotted the hillsides along with pastures, windmills, metal and stone sculptures, and fields of flowers. It was absolutely bucolic.
“I did briefly consider a career in theater when I was in college, but that was very short-lived.”
“Miranda Brown on the stage, I can see it.” Jim bobbed his head as he steered around a bend. A Christmas tree farm with candy-cane-striped arches came into view. “You have such a magnetic energy. You probably would have been a star.”
“No, I don’t know about that.” She chuckled and shook her head. “I just love live theater. I have season tickets for our local community theater, and I try to get to as many bigger shows as I can in San Francisco.”
“Me too.” Jim slowed down. There was already a line on the two-lane road waiting to turn into the farm. “Not San Francisco, but I’m a theater buff. I have season tickets to the repertory theater in Seattle, and I try to get tickets to any traveling Broadway shows that come through.”
“Broadway! Me too.” Miranda clasped her hands together. “What’s your favorite musical?”
Jim hesitated. None of his friends or colleagues had ever even heard of his favorite Broadway show, let alone seen it. “You probably won’t know it.”
“Try me.” Miranda shot him a playful yet challenging stare.
“You won’t know it. No one does.” He liked this banter. She was so at ease with herself and with him. It felt like they had known each other for years.
“Oh, you underestimate my extensive Broadway knowledge. Shall we make a little wager? Put your money where your mouth is?”
Jim could tell she was enjoying this. He was, too, and he was confident Miranda would never guess the show he held near and dear to his heart. “Sure, what’s the wager?”
She thought about it for a minute. “Hmm. Well, let’s see.”
“I’ve got it,” Jim interrupted, seizing the opportunity. “We’ll say the name of the show at the same time, out loud. If you guess correctly, we’ll watch your favorite Broadway show tonight. If you don’t, we watch mine.”
“Tonight? But we’re going to dinner.” She pointed to the line of cars in front of them. A group of teens wearing bright yellow construction vests was directing traffic to park in an empty field.
“After dinner. We’ll grab a nightcap and have a late-night viewing party.” It was an obvious ploy to spend more time with her, but at this point, he didn’t care if she caught on. Any excuse he could come up with to be near her was fine by him.
“Okay.” Miranda nodded like she was game.
“You ready? On three.” Jim kept his foot on the brake and counted down. “One. Two. Three—Dogfight!”
“Dogfight!” Miranda didn’t miss a beat.
In fact, she may have even said it first.
Jim was floored. Who was this woman, and where had she been all his life? “You know Dogfight? Impossible.”
“Do I know Dogfight? It happens to be my favorite Broadway show. It’s so underrated, and I don’t understand why.
Did you know the script writer also wrote lyrics for A Christmas Story, Dear Evan Hansen, The Greatest Showman, and La La Land?
I’m always baffled why more people aren’t familiar with the show. ”
Was this the woman of his dreams?
Jim wanted to pinch himself, but instead, he rolled down his window to show one of the parking attendants their tickets. “Okay, you win. I guess we’re watching Dogfight later.”
Miranda grinned. “But if it’s both our favorites, we both win, right?”
“Yes, yes, we do.” Jim tried to steady his heart rate as the rental car rumbled over the uneven ground. “Lucky us.”