The Family You Choose (14 page)

She grabbed her boots and went into the
living room to put them on. She heard him zipping up his pants and
following her out. "I wanted you for Alex?"

She poured herself a drink. She didn’t know
what it was, but it burned on the way down. She gasped gratefully,
as if it could wipe away the last few hours. "Sure," she said,
wiping her mouth. "And you know what? You can be the one to tell
him, and you can make it sound any way you want. You forced me. No,
that might get you killed, and we both know what a coward you are.
I came and I begged. You comforted me. I realized I loved you, but
you threw me away. Whatever you want, however you want it."

"Pity you didn’t say that when you came
in."

"Pity it wouldn’t have made a difference to
me."

He laughed and poured himself a drink of his
own. "So I guess my story checked out?"

"It did. You were right. About everything. My
mother, your father, Alex. Good job. Which doesn’t make you any
less of a miserable excuse for a human being, but at least you get
to be right about something."

She grabbed her coat. He was silent. Then he
smirked behind her. "I’m so miserable, you’re so disgusted—what are
you doing here then?"

"You know, I just thought this would be so
efficient. We could do so much in so little time. You get to hurt
Alex, I get to hurt Alex. And you get to think you hurt me—again.
But you don’t. Because I’m the one who really gets to hurt you,
once and for all."

"Oh, I think my ego can handle this, with so
many other consolations."

"Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that.
Because I don’t think even you thought this was that great. No—you
only ever wanted to do this with me, to me, because you wanted to
make me feel cheap." His eyes hardened. "That and you’re a pig. And
maybe taking something you thought belonged to Alex. Yeah, that was
a big bonus. But really, I think you just always wanted to make me
feel small." She shrugged. "And I guess you did, it did.
Congratulations. But the truth is that I made you feel small too,
and maybe that was my bonus."

Michael sipped his drink but didn’t take his
eyes off of her. "So you think you’ve got me all figured out,
huh?"

"Well, yeah. Maybe not everything but I don’t
care. I’m done. You want Alex? He’s all yours. Torture him at will,
and tell him I said ‘hi’. You touch anyone I care about and I’ll
kill you. But otherwise, we’re done." She flicked her fingers on
his shoulder. "Have a nice life, Abbot, or as close as you can
manage."

"Where are you going?" He put down his drink
and followed her to the door. "At this hour? And you just had a
drink."

Miranda rolled her eyes and grabbed the door
knob. "Yeah, I guess you’d know all about drinking and driving
wouldn’t you? And I guess he can use that GPS to track me if he
wanted to. You’re right, I’ll take a cab."

"You’re leaving your car?"

"Yep, one more present you get tonight. One
more thing I really don’t give a good God damn about." She tried to
close the door, but he blocked her. She shrugged.
"Fine—freeze."

Without turning back, she walked quickly to
Boylston Street and got a cab. It dropped her off at Zainab’s. It
was past twelve when she got in. She threw off her clothes—she
might burn those clothes—and then put on one of Zainab’s
nightgowns. There were so many things that she could have thought
about, but she didn’t want to think about any of them. It was all
done.

Since yesterday morning, Emily had been hit
with the proverbial morning sickness. The only thing was that it
was really morning, afternoon and evening sickness. She’d taken an
hour off of her research and writing for Professor Hazlett to
research morning sickness remedies, but found nothing reliable.
Finally, she’d put her head between her knees for fifteen minutes,
which provided some relief.

Mitch found her in the private room ten
minutes before the library was going to close, with her head
resting on the desk. "Emily?" He tried to touch her head, but she
winced. She couldn’t stand light, she couldn’t stand sight, and she
couldn’t stand touch. She thought she could smell the books.
Food—ugh. The very thought sickened her, and she hadn’t eaten
anything all day.

Mitch tried to talk to her, but she kept
shaking her head. He seemed to get it. He packed up her bags, then
got her coat and helped her put it on as if she were three. He
picked up her bag then gently helped her up. They had just gotten
to the stairwell when Emily all of a sudden ran into the
bathroom.

Mitch heard her retching for five whole
minutes. When she came out, her lips wet from the water she’d used
to rinse her mouth out, a single tear ran down her cheek. "Just
take my bags," she said, half-pleading. "I’m gonna walk. I can’t
get on the train right now."

"It’s freezing!" he said.

She nodded almost imperceptibly. "I know. The
cold air—it’s better than the train."

She walked down the stairs slowly and out the
door. She took a deep breath once the cold air hit her. It felt
good. She leaned against the outside wall. She just needed a moment
to gather her strength.

"Emily," Mitch said gently. He stroked her
face, which was a little more tolerable now that it was cold. "It’s
too far. You’re too tired—and sick."

Emily shook her head. "I’ll—no, I can’t get
on the train."

"Can I get you anything? Some...crackers, or
something to drink?"

Emily shuddered at the thought of all of
those things. "No, but maybe some ice."

"Ice?!? It’s freezing now!"

"No, it’s hot."

"Alright, if that’s what you want. And then
you’ll take the train?"

Emily nodded, and then they walked to the
train stop. Mitch ran into the café to get a coffee and a cup of
ice. Emily gratefully took the cup and started sucking on the ice
chips, slowly, so she wouldn’t get too sick.

The train came, and Mitch thanked God that it
wasn’t crowded at all. Emily curled into a ball on her seat,
clutching her stomach. Mitch gently rubbed her back. The heat from
his hands was unbearable, but she was too weak to ask him to
stop.

It took fifteen minutes for Emily to walk
home from the train stop, and she thought she’d die when she walked
into the little apartment because it was so hot. She brushed her
teeth—an absolute necessity—then stripped to her tank top and
underwear and got into bed. She threw off the cover Mitch tried to
put on her, and after an hour of moaning and five trips to the
bathroom, she finally fell asleep.

Mitch sighed. He put the cover on her, then
spooned himself next to her. What were his parents going to say?
How was this going to affect the next two years of law school? How
had it happened? Okay, he had been through Sex Ed in grade school,
so he got the basic idea. But...they’d used a condom every single
time, and neither of them had noticed anything wrong; although,
admittedly, sometimes they weren’t always looking for problems
either.

He rubbed Emily’s abdomen gently. It didn’t
matter, did it, because here he or she was, making its presence
known, especially to Emily.

Emily woke up on Saturday morning and
groaned. It was no later than seven, and she knew she hadn’t fallen
asleep until almost one. Mitch was draped over her, and she was
under the covers. She rolled onto her back and tried to take some
deep breaths. She started to feel dizzy, so she closed her eyes.
She didn’t know how she was going to survive this.

Miranda. Oh, God. She had to call her, to
tell her that she wouldn’t be coming today. Maybe she could go next
week, when she was feeling better. She didn’t know how to tell her
or anyone else yet. It felt stupid to be in this position—she knew
what everyone else would think. It was one thing to be married when
you’re nineteen; it was another thing to be pregnant when you’re
twenty. But she’d be almost twenty-one when the baby was born—that
was better than nothing.

Emily’s head hurt from doing that simple
calculation, and she felt like she was going to throw up. She made
it to the bathroom in time and threw up yellow stomach acid. The
acid made her feel sicker. She rinsed her mouth out and brushed her
teeth again, then came out to get a cupful of ice.

Mitch was up. He looked tired and confused,
then hopeful. He patted the futon. "Come back to bed, Em."

She sighed. She wanted to sleep so
badly—
please
, she begged her body,
just give me a break
long enough to fall asleep.

~~~

Miranda woke up at nine. She could have slept
longer, but she remembered that Emily was going to come to Alex’s
house this morning. "Jesus!" she shouted, throwing the covers off
of herself. And Emily was always so goddamned hyper-punctual.

She scrambled into her bag, looking for her
phone. It took her five minutes of futile searching to remember
that she had tossed her phone into the ocean. It took her another
minute, but she finally found Zainab’s phone which, fortunately,
still had Emily’s cell phone programmed into it.

Mitch answered. "Zainab?"

Miranda looked at the phone for a moment. Why
was Mitch answering Emily’s phone? "Hey, sorry. I was trying to
reach Emily. I must have dialed your number accidentally."

"Oh, hi." Pause. "No, this is Emily’s phone,
but she’s not feeling well right now."

"Is she okay? Since when do vegan yoginis get
sick?"

"Yeah, well, I guess I’ve been keeping her
from the yoga more than I should. But...why are you calling from
Zainab’s apartment? Is Zainab there?"

"No." Deep breath. "I...it’s a long
story."

"Feel free to tell me anytime you want, but
right now, Emily needs a little bit of a rest."

Miranda narrowed her eyes. She didn’t like
Mitch’s tone. "Okay," she said with forced cheerfulness. "But tell
her I called, okay?"

"You bet."

Miranda looked through the other numbers on
the phone. No chance Zainab would have her own cell phone
programmed, of course. There was Richard’s house but then what if
Richard wanted to know why she was there? Could she trust him if
Alex had told his version of events, which was sure to make more
sense? She looked back and forth, trying to decide. Her trust in
Richard finally won.

"Oh, thank God!" Miranda almost collapsed
with relief when Zainab answered.

"Miranda! Miranda, what are you doing calling
from my place?"

"I’m sorry, I thought Emily told you."

"No," Zainab said slowly, "but it’s fine.
It’s better than fine. Richard and I have been worried sick about
you. Alex has been calling every hour on the hour, and he’s been by
the house twice-"

"Zainab, please, promise me you won’t tell
anyone where I am," Miranda said quickly.

"Miranda, what-"

"Zainab, please, okay? I don’t want Richard
to know, he wouldn’t believe me. And I don’t want Alex to know
because I never want to see him again."

"Did Alex hurt you?" Zainab almost
screeched.

"What? No! But he’s still a bastard. Look,
just promise me, please, and I’ll tell you everything."

"Of course I’m not going to tell anyone, you
dope. But I have to tell Richard something."

"Fine, tell him I’m in a hotel—with lots of
room service. That sounds right."

Zainab laughed, and then Miranda did too.
"Will you come over today, please?"

"Alright, but it has to be soon. Richard has
a one o’clock flight to California this morning, and I have to be
back before he leaves."

"So get off the phone and get over here!" She
hung up, smiling, and closed her eyes. It wasn’t going to work for
her to pretend that nothing had changed.

Zainab came over an hour later. "Yeah,
sorry," she said, giving Miranda a quick hug. "Guess who stopped by
right after I got off?"

"Alex."

"Try again. It was actually Michael, and
isn’t it funny, but he was looking for you too?"

Miranda’s face grew hot. "That creep! How
dare he show his face there?!"

"Richard said almost exactly the same thing.
Michael was absolutely convinced that you were there, and Richard
had to pretty much drag him out of the house to calm him down.
Michael was shouting at the top of his lungs for ten minutes
straight, and then who should come by but Alex?"

Miranda’s mouth twisted into a smile. "I hope
they killed each other."

"If Richard hadn’t been there, I think you
might have gotten your wish. And don’t worry—I didn’t tell Richard
where I was going, but even if I had, I don’t think you’d have to
worry about him telling Alex. Alex looked even more crazed than
Michael."

"Good."

"Good? Yeah, it’s so good that Richard is on
the phone right now hiring a security service for the week that
he’s gone so that neither of them can come near us."

"Armed?"

"No, just trained to kill with their bare
hands."

"Good enough."

"Uh huh." Zainab went into the kitchen and
made a pot of tea. Miranda, who hadn’t had anything to eat or drink
since yesterday afternoon, thanked her before she drank it.

"What did Michael do to you?" Zainab asked
when she was done.

Miranda wiped her mouth. "Nothing I didn’t
walk into his house and ask for."

"Oh my God!" Zainab face turned dark red. "I
will kill him myself!"

"Zainab, I’m not joking. I asked."

"You walked into Michael’s house and asked
for sex?"

"Not in so many words, but yeah, pretty
much."

Zainab stared at Miranda. "Is this a joke?
Because it’s not funny. Richard is ready to kill the both of
them."

"Tell Richard to confine his concerns to
Jessie and you."

"Were you...on something?"

"I only had a drink when he was done. I
needed it."