Coffee, made with love

"Aww, thanks, Todd. You don't look half bad yourself."

I smiled, trying to be cool, despite my pounding heart. "Are you ready for a magical mystery tour?"

"Yes, of course! Where are we going?" She handed me the wine, turned and locked her front door. I couldn't help cast an eye over the way her dress curved around her hips and backside.

"It wouldn't be a magical mystery tour if I told you, would it?"

"Well, it sounds fun and I do like a mystery, so lead the way."

We walked to my dark-blue early-nineties Toyota 4Runner parked in Miranda's driveway, and I fumbled with my keys, opening the passenger door for her.

"Thank you, kind sir," she said, climbing elegantly into the passenger seat, then took the wine bottle back.

"I hope it's not too dirty in here for you." I'd cleaned the car inside and out, but still worried she might find something dirty about it, since I was slack at times when it came to dirt and dust in my car.

"Looks clean to me."

I drove through the suburbs, answering Miranda's questions about my new job. Our conversation was flowing, which helped ease my nerves. We'd become good friends, if nothing else, despite our age gap.

"I have something to tell you," she said as we drove past the water reservoir in the south-eastern suburbs.

"Do you?"

"It's nothing major, but I've been looking into starting a food charity. A woman recently came around asking for food at the café for her family. Others in our row of shops sent her away, but I couldn't. I knew I might be inviting problems with her returning, but she appeared genuine and my heart felt sick thinking about the cards life dealt her family. She said she had two kids and was struggling to make ends meet, so I gave them a box of fruit and vegetables. It made me think, though, about how food wastage in the restaurant and café industry could be used for people in need, and if there was a way we could collect food that might otherwise be thrown out and how to distribute it." She paused for a moment, then said, "Sorry, I must be rambling."

"No, not at all. Your idea's great. Have you thought of supermarkets as well? Before working for you at the café I worked in a supermarket where we'd toss out quite an amount of seemingly good food simply because it had reached its expiry date."

"As a matter of fact, I have thought about supermarkets. I was thinking if I could manage to get enough produce to feed a person, or maybe a family of three or four for one week, that would be a start. Maybe include a few simple recipes. It's all ideas in my head at the moment and I'm only looking into the feasibility of such an undertaking. I have no idea how to make it happen yet."

"Tucker-Box."

"What do you mean by tucker-box?"

"Tucker-Box. The name of your charity could be Tucker-Box."

"Todd, you're brilliant! I hadn't even thought of a name yet."

"Yeah, it just came to my mind. Food is tucker. You want to fill a box with food. Tucker-Box."

"Genius," she said, turning to me as I drove. "Do you want a job as my business manager? Strictly volunteer basis, of course."

Surely she wasn't seriously offering me a position, but I went along with it. "Sure. We'll have to organise charity events, like fund-raising barbecues at Bunnings Warehouse."

"You're a natural with ideas! I hadn't even thought that far ahead."

"What about a community market garden? Grow some produce somewhere."

"Oohh, such a great idea, Todd. You're on fire. But we'd need land for a garden."

"How big's your backyard?"

"It's decent, I suppose. A typical quarter acre block. But I haven't the time to grow any produce."

"Someone will. Advertise for volunteers. I'd help where I can."

"Since you're offering you definitely have to help me out now," she laughed. "Hey, we're going out to the bay aren't we?"

Briefly taking my eyes off the road, I flashed her a grin. "It's a mystery where we're going, remember."

She laughed with genuine happiness, and we drove on and did indeed reach Moreton Bay, stopping at a reserve on Wellington Point peninsular jutting into the brownish blue waters, allowing views to the east, of Moreton and Stradbroke Islands on the horizon, and west to the city. It was late November and still light when I fired up the electric public barbeque at the park, but the sun was now low in the western sky.

"I love your picnic basket," Miranda said when I returned to the park bench, leaving the onions to sizzle.

The basket was a classical old wicker picnic basket from the '60s or '70s, in which I'd filled with dips and cheese, carrot sticks and crackers, plus a potato salad, eye-fillets, plates and cutlery, and two wine glasses. "This old thing belonged to my Grandparents."

"It's very cute. I haven't been on a picnic in such a long time."

I smiled at her. "Wine?"

"Yes, of course," she replied with a smile, as if it were a given. I should've known it was.

I poured the dark red cabernet sauvignon and we lifted our glasses to each other. "What shall we toast to?"

"What about great company?"

"To great company and engaging conversations."

"Yes," she said, "Great company and engaging conversations!"

We smiled and clinked our glasses together, raising them to our lips and drank. We conversed and ate crackers with cheese and dip, then I put the steaks on, all the while the sun set over the city, over there across the water.

Another couple were barbequing at nearby picnic shelter, while a woman walked past with two Schnauzer puppies on leads. Several cars pulled into the carpark, young couples watching the sunset, and a number of cars towing boats on trailers departed from the nearby boat-ramp.

I was attending the BBQ when Miranda walked up, handing me my glass of wine and leant against the stainless steel bench on which the BBQ sat, facing the setting sun. "You look like you know what you're doing with the steaks."

"I've taken notes from you and Reece in the café's kitchen." I turned to face the sunset, tongs in one hand and wine glass in the other. "Such a pretty sunset, isn't it?"

"It's beautiful. I've grown to love Brisbane."

I watched Miranda for a moment, wanting to say, you're beautiful and I've grown to love you. She was beautiful, with her wavy hair cut smartly to shoulder length and despite the grey hairs now winning their battle with her natural dark-brown, she looked gorgeous.

With the exception of light crow's feet around the corner of her eyes when she smiled, her face was untouched by wrinkles. And her smile, divine and happy, a big side-ways D often upon her lips.

In the rare moments Miranda wasn't smiling, like right now while she admired the sunset, her lips formed an approximate diamond shape, slightly open where her front teeth could be seen in the gap when she faced me. I found this very attractive. And her figure, not slim, nor large, but undeniably womanly with curves in nice places, her dress showing her body nicely, covering her bust, but not hiding their round shape in any way.

She turned to me and smiled again, and I managed to appear calm while my heart beat hard in my chest, because Miranda took my breath away. "I think our steaks are about ready," I suggested.

"They look perfect," she said. "Here, I'll take your wine while you bring the food over."

We sat and ate and drank, as the sun finally disappeared. The night was warm, with humidity reasonably high, and we finishing the bottle of wine between us while chatting the whole time.

While we packed up, I wondered if the generous two-and-a-half glasses of wine put me over the legal driving limit. But opportunity beckoned too. "I reckon I won't be able to drive for a bit after those wines. Would you be up for a walk?"

"Sure, there's no rush to go anywhere else." It was darker now, but I could see her smile in the ambient light from the nearby street lamps.

After placing the picnic basket in my car, we slowly walked in silence around the peninsular, past the boat ramp and jetty where keen anglers were trying for a bite. The path lead us to more parkland on the eastern side of the peninsular, where trees grew with branches hanging over picnic tables, and a handful of mangroves were dotted along the foreshore. Stopping at one of the picnic tables, we sat on the table-top, looking at the green and red lights from boats and marker beacons out in the bay, our feet resting on the long bench seat.

"What a lovely night," Miranda observed. "I never regret moving to Australia."

"Do you miss England?"

"I used to get home sick back when I was younger. But there's not much left for me back there now, since Mum and Dad both passed five years ago. My sister and her family actually live in Melbourne, so I have no close family back in the UK. I've spent more years here in Queensland than I did growing up in Cornwall, and this is home now."

"I didn't know you had a sister in Melbourne?"

She chuckled. "Emily came to visit me and Richard when we ran charter boats out of Cairns. Probably around 1989. She was about your age and stayed with us for six weeks. It was enough time for her to meet a young man named Michael who was working at the marina. Mike was a bit of a drifter, working in the yard and on boats for a few months, but once he and Emily were together he pulled himself together, and this year they've been together about eighteen years. In fact, they recently celebrated their fifteenth wedding anniversary."

"Sounds like true love."

"Yes, Em' did better in the love department than I ever did."

Here was my opening, I was sure of it. But for a moment I was speechless, paralysed with stage fright. I was sure Miranda could hear my heart beat across the silence between us.

Say something!

What came out of my mouth was, "Love's difficult, even at the best of times."

"Are you twenty-two going on fifty?" Miranda chuckled. "How many girls have you loved?" There was no malice in her voice, only humour.

"To be completely honest, not many. You met Casey, who I've had my longest relationship with. And my friend, Sally, but she and I have the friendship kind of love."

"Friendship love can be the sweetest love."

"Sometimes."

We sat there in silence for a moment more, watching the mesmerising flashes of red and green from the channel marker beacons stretching from the ramp out into the bay.

"Richard was my longest," she finally spoke. "We were together ten years, and married for eight of them. Rose, our eldest, was conceived soon after we first met, which is why I followed him here to Australia. After Richard and I separated, I can say only one relationship I've pursued since then has lasted more than a year."

"So, you haven't dated anyone in a while?"

"Not since I moved to Brisbane. I came to realise I didn't need anyone to be happy. And I am happy. Truly, it would take someone very special to make me happier."

"I can tell you're happy by the way you smile all the time. I love it."

She turned to me and I could tell she smiled in the darkness. But she didn't say anything.

"You're smiling now," I said without facing her, my heart pounding.

She chuckled, then breathed out heavily, like a sigh. "Todd, what is it about you."

"What about me?"

She chuckled again, faced the bay and clasped her hands together. "You're very sweet. That's what's about you."

"If you knew the real me, you'd probably think I'm a dick."

"Oh, I know the real you. The real you is someone I've spent hours talking with, without even realising where the time went. There's only one other person I can say I've ever experienced anything like this with and that was my friend Polly, from way back when I was in school. She and I would talk for hours on end."

My heart beat hard and I felt my face blush in the dark. "I wish..."

Miranda was silent, waiting for me to complete my sentence, and when I didn't, she prompted me. "You wish..."

"I just, ah...I've been thinking a lot lately."

"Thinking? Does it hurt?"

"Yes," I laughed. "Sometimes."

"Don't think too hard then."

"I try not to," I said, my heart beat hard and fast, thumping in my chest. "But someone has to make the hard decisions. So, okay, here it is. I...like hanging out with you. I like...how we chat like this, even though I know I'm being awkward right now. And I want to hang out with you more."

"Are you asking me out, Todd?" There was a hint of humour in her voice.

"Yeah, I am," I said more confidently. "I'm asking you out. I've thought about it, about our age difference, thinking if we were closer in age I'd not hesitate to ask you. But why should age be a problem? I genuinely enjoy your company. I want to spend time hanging out with you. I want more than that too, but only if you do of course, because I want you to remain happy."

She unclasped her hands and placed them on the bench at her sides. "I've thought about us too, Todd. By the time I was thirty-five I thought I no longer wanted to bother with men, because I was a confident woman who'd been pushed around by men and wasn't going to put up with it anymore. Not literally pushed, but bossed around, and by my mid-thirties I finally developed the confidence to hold my own. I thought I was never going to experience a strong romantic connection with anyone again, and I accepted it. But then one day you walked into my café, asking about the position of kitchen hand I'd advertised."

Processing what Miranda was declaring to me, I was almost speechless. All I could come up with was a whispered, "You felt it too..."

"Yes, I felt it too. Not immediately, mind you, but the afternoon I drove..."

"....me home in the rain."

"Yes! Then and there. We spoke for an hour, and honestly, I didn't know where the time went. I was shocked about how you made me feel. I couldn't fathom it but wanted to keep talking with you all night long."

I was surprised. "I wanted to invite you in just to spend more time with you."

"You felt it too?" she whispered.

"Yes, and you've held these feelings for three years?"

"From what you're telling me, we've both held these feelings for years."

"Not quite like that, to tell you the truth. But, yes, I feel a connection with you, like when we'd end up chatting at closing time after we cleaned the kitchen and stuff. I wasn't hanging around out of politeness to chat with you after I should've left."

Miranda chuckled quietly. "What are we going to do?"

I breathed in deeply, then let it all out. "I worried when I left Land's End that I wouldn't see you again. I agonised over my decision to leave, but I needed to take the job in the lab. Then you offered me those comedy tickets and I saw a chance we could go together."

"You needed to take the laboratory job and I'm so happy you did. If you hadn't and I'd found out, I'd be very cranky with you. And the tickets, well, that was serendipity and not planned in anyway."

"I've wrestled with asking you out, Miranda. I wanted to ask you when we went to the Powerhouse. But the age thingy kept getting in the way. In my mind, anyway. But, here's the thing, I don't actually mind how old you are. I want to spend time with you, and that's that. I can't say it any plainer."

She turned to me again, in the dark. "You're so sweet, Todd. You really are. I thought you were simply being a nice, friendly young man, and nothing more. I felt a fool wanting to spend time with you too. Why would you be interested in greying old me?"

I turned to face her, and despite the darkness I could make out her silhouette next to me. "Because greying old you is beautiful."

"Hmmm," she said, breathing it out through her nose. "If you hadn't told me the other stuff, I'd think you were having a lend, or only wanting to sleep with me."

I laughed softly. "How do you know I'm not simply trying to sleep with you?"

"Gosh, if that's the case you wouldn't be the first man to tell me I'm beautiful just to try and get me into bed. But I know you want more because I see it in your eyes and hear it in your voice. And I feel it too." She whispered the last sentence.

"I feel it too," I said, facing the bay again. "Some of these feelings are new to me."

She whispered again, clutching her hands to her heart. "Oh, Todd, sweetheart."

"So, Miranda," I said, trying to sound as casual and humorous as possible, "Would you go out with me?"

"I think so," she whispered. "Yes."

"If you're unsure, I don't mind. Take your time to think about it."

"I've thought about it already," she whispered again. "Every day for a long time, thinking I was being a fool again, like when I was much younger. Thinking about, what if you and me did date, and then in a few months or a year later you meet Vanessa, the twenty-something year old who's hot and busty and blond and want's your body. Could I handle such heart-break again?"

I smiled, understanding Miranda's dilemma. "I've thought about these things too. I'd tell hot and busty, blond Vanessa I'm already taken. Simple as that."

"It's never simple as that when hot, busty Vanessa is about. Trust me, because I've been her back when I was hot, busty, brunette, Miranda."

"Really?"

She chuckled. "Yes, Todd, really. I was hot once, though I didn't think it at the time."

"You're still hot, Miranda. Except you're slowly shifting from brunette to blond."

She laughed. "That's exactly what I tell myself!"

"You don't think of dying your hair?"

"Why, do you not like the grey look?"

"I love it," I said, my voice suddenly defensive. "I have no issue with your greying hair. I think it's beautiful. I think you're beautiful."

She sighed. "You had me at you talk like a pirate, way back when. Which I don't, by the way."

I chuckled. "You do, sometimes."

"Do not."

"Yes, you do. ARRR, Todd, fill the pot with wateRR and pass me the tuRRnips and butteRR, and make suRRe you stack the dishwasheRR or I'll keel haul yeRR."

Miranda snorted a laugh through her nose. "You sound like Hagrid. My Rs are Cornish and nowhere near as thick as you make out! Especially since I haven't lived there in over twenty years."

"Hang on, say to me, yer a wizard Harry."

"No."

"Say it."

"No, I'm not going to."

"Fine, but I just wanted to hear your sexy pirate Hagrid voice."

"Now I'm having second thoughts about you."

"Well, I guess this has been my shortest relationship."

And she laughed "Our first fight over you mocking my accent."

"Won't be our last," I replied, also smiling. "Your accent's cute. But look, what you mentioned before, about hot, busty Vanessa or whoever. What if you and me are together for a few years, and then you meet silver-fox Joe, who's a successful restaurateur? I've thought about this too, but then I thought, what if you and me were the same age and I still met Vanessa or you met Joe? Are we any more or less likely to stray if we are in a relationship? Like, I know I wouldn't and I feel things between us would be in a bad way if one of us even had thoughts of straying. Am I right?"

"I guess you're right," she said, the hint of laughter still in her voice. "Though I'm not sure if it's as simple as you say, but if you keep mocking my accent I might be tempted to stray. But not with silver-fox Joe, because I've met plenty of them in my industry, and I can tell you they're all full of themselves."

"Well then, you should stick with the hot young fox named Todd instead."

"Todd the fox," she giggled. "Of course. But I wouldn't stray, anyway. It's not in my nature. But remember I've experienced hot Vanessa taking a man away from me before, and sexy Erin too, and probably others. So I'm wary about the nature of men. Sorry, but once bitten, twice shy."

"You must have bad taste in men, because why would anyone want to leave you?"

She chuckled. "You have no idea."

"How about we see how things go then? If it works, it works, and if it doesn't, well, we'll make sure we're honest with one another. And I promise you no one will take me away."