The Family You Choose (15 page)

"Have you lost your mind?"

"No. That’s the one thing I haven’t lost, the
one thing Alex didn’t steal from me."

"What..? How is this about Alex?"

Miranda scoffed. She’d asked the same thing
yesterday. "It’s always about him, isn’t it? He’s a lying,
cheating, ruthless son of a bitch. I just never thought it would
have anything to do with me."

"What could he have done that would make you
seek Michael out?"

"How about lying to me my whole life? How
about lying
about
my whole life? I don’t know what’s real
anymore. I think I remember my mother, I think I remember my
grandmother, I think I remember...but maybe these are just things
Alex told me and I put memories around them to fit his story."

"Miranda...what did he lie about?"

"My mother," Miranda whispered, and she began
sobbing. Zainab put her arms Miranda. "He was sleeping with my
mother," she said through her tears. "And so was Michael’s father.
No wonder Michael always hated me. No wonder...Alex let him be so
awful. Michael said he killed them too—"

"Are you taking Michael’s word over
Alex’s?"

"I told you, I haven’t lost my mind. I
saw...pictures. I read articles. I heard Alex when I told him I
knew. And I know, in my gut, that Alex was with my mother." She
wiped away her tears. "I know because it all makes sense now.
Because of the way Alex used to look at me, and then look away. He
wasn’t looking at me; he was looking at someone else’s ghost. And
always the disappointment that it was me. That was why it had to be
dark."

Zainab stopped breathing. "When did it have
to be dark?"

"When he kissed me," Miranda whispered, then
put her head on Zainab’s chest. "When he kissed me, before he left.
That’s why it almost happened, because it was dark and he could
pretend that I was her. But...I reminded him, and he remembered it
was just me. Just Miranda."

Zainab held Miranda by her shoulders. "Listen
to me, Miranda Harel. You are not
just
anything and you
couldn’t be no matter what happened before. You’re the most
generous, loving person I’ve ever met. Jessie has gotten this far
because of you and Richard, and I’m lucky you’re in my life.
Everyone you touch is. So...Alex was a lying pervert, but now you
know. You’re going to be fine, because Michael and Alex can’t get
anywhere near what you really are. Okay, you screwed Michael
because you wanted to get Alex. So what? Let’s move on."

"But everything is a lie," Miranda
sniffled.

"No, it’s not. I’m not, Emily’s not. Jessie
and Richard aren’t. And we all love you and don’t care who your
parents are or what they did."

Miranda smiled. "Well, I think Mitch still
hates me."

"Mitch can be a tool sometimes, but he
doesn’t hate you. And I think we could probably sic him on Alex and
Michael now."

"Always getting that silver lining, huh?"

"It’s there. Maybe the best part is the truth
is out and you see them both for what they are."

"It’s going to be okay?"

"Do you think Emily and I are going to let it
not be okay?"

Miranda hugged Zainab and cried on her
shoulder a little more. Zainab looked at her watch. "Damn. I’m
sorry, honey, but I’ve got to get out of here or Richard is going
to miss his flight."

"No—go, please. But...don’t tell Richard—not
unless Michael does."

Zainab blew out threw her lips and shook her
head. "Um, yeah, but I think he’s going to put it together soon,
and no matter what I say, I think he needs to hear it from
you."

Miranda nodded like a small child. "Okay,
but...what about Emily?"

"Emily loves you, okay, no matter what
Michael is." She smiled conspiratorially. "And I think she knows a
little bit about being with someone you really shouldn’t be."

Silver linings and Achilles’ heels. "Here’s
to the bright side."

Miranda closed the door and climbed back into
bed, wrapping Zainab’s words around her to help her get to
sleep.

Miranda stared at the ceiling. She’d been
awake for thirty minutes but couldn’t get out of bed. She’d woken
up because she had that dream again, only she’d been closer to
waking than sleeping and started to ask questions. "Where are you
going, Mommy? Do you love him? Do you think he’s going to be my
dad? Does he like the idea? Why are you taking someone else’s dad
away? Don’t you know?" But Tatiana hadn’t changed at all in her
dream, and it followed the same script it always had, with her
turning off the light and closing the door, as it always did. But
now Miranda, still a little girl, jumped out of bed and opened the
door. She ran down the hall, screaming for her, but she couldn’t
see her anywhere. Instead, she looked down the stairs and there
were Alex and her grandmother, staring at her. So she knew it was
too late. Her mother was already dead. Even in her dreams. But
before she could ask Alex anything, she thought she heard a faint
electric sound. By the time she woke up, it was gone.

Richard loved his mother, despite himself.
Jessie’s mother had loved her, Miranda knew, because she had seen
it. So many things might never be right for Jessie, but she and
Richard and Alex and even Lucy could vouch for that. But no one
could vouch for Miranda’s mother except for people she couldn’t
trust and people who were already dead. It would never be known.
Miranda felt a big hole open up in her heart. She would have given
anything, right then, to have a mother who was alive, even if she
hated her. And she reached out her hand again, trying to touch a
ghost that wouldn’t haunt her.

She got out of bed and showered and changed.
She wished she’d brought her textbooks—anything to keep her
occupied. There were some of Emily’s old copies of
VegNews
and Zainab’s
Newsweek
, but they were all old. She turned on
the television. Most of the programming sucked, but then again, it
was Saturday afternoon, when most normal people were out of the
house. She didn’t feel like she should leave.

She had to choose between a Lifetime movie of
the week and the
General Hospital
marathon playing on
SoapNet. Lifetime had Tori Spelling running around and being
stalked by a knife-wielding cheerleader. Miranda switched to
SoapNet which, after the
GH
marathon, had a
90210
marathon. It was like the best of both worlds.

Two hours later, she was still confused about
Sonny, Jason, Carly, Sam and Jax, but she was getting sucked in.
She wanted to know why there weren’t any doctors in any of the
storylines so far, but other than that, she felt herself falling
into their pretty little world, where the worst they had to worry
about were really well-dressed and good-looking mobsters.

The
90210
marathon started at seven.
The first episode was something about Brenda getting involved with
some animal rights terrorists. Some of the Nineties references were
lost on her, and she didn’t get the clothes at all. After ten
minutes, she realized she was hungry. Besides, the next episode
looked better.

Zainab did have some food in the fridge, but
knowing that it hadn’t been used probably since Emily had moved
out, Miranda decided to err on the side of caution. She looked at
her wallet. She had her credit cards, and she was sure Alex
wouldn’t have cut them off—yet—but she was worried he might have a
trace on them. So, although she didn’t have more than twenty
dollars in cash, she took that instead.

Maybe she could go live in Israel, she
thought as she walked down the cold street. It was warm there, and
she could help her grandmother with her grandfather, who was
getting worse. And maybe she wouldn’t be much help, but at least
he’d see her one last time before he died. Richard could lend her
the money for the ticket. Richard would give her a loan and, Hell,
probably a job. She could be an assistant, it would be fun. She’d
have to live somewhere. Maybe Mitch and Emily’s building had
another studio for rent. She still wouldn’t have that much left
over, but she could ask Emily to school her in the Zen art of
making do with less. She could be a vegan, too, if that’s what it
took.

Since veganism was looming in her future, she
bought herself her very own pint of Ben and Jerry’s, then went to
Burger King for a bacon double cheeseburger. "Farewell, my love,"
she said after she sat back on Zainab’s couch and bit into her
burger. She chewed, put her heels up on the coffee table and
sighed. She would be just fine.

She had just started digging into her Chubby
Hubby and following Brenda’s audition for
Cat on a
Hot Tin Roof
when she heard a knock on the door.
One of
Zainab’s neighbors? Was the TV on too loud?
"Hello?"

"It’s Michael."

Her heart raced. "Sorry, no one’s home!"

"Open the door."

"Go to Hell," she said, sitting back on the
couch.

"I’m not leaving until you open this
door."

"Good, why don’t you prove what a man you are
and break it down? Then I’ll call the police, and probably everyone
else in the building will do the same."

"Then I’ll tell Alex where you are."

"If you found me, he’ll find me, so what’s
the difference?" Silence.

"Will you please just let me in?" he said at
last.

She put down her ice cream. "On one
condition: you have to leave within ten minutes, or I will call the
police." Bastard wasn’t worth melted ice cream.

"Fine. Ten minutes." She rolled her eyes, and
opened the door.

Michael looked like he hadn’t changed since
yesterday, and Miranda wasn’t sure if he’d slept either.

He closed the door. "Is that
90210
?"

"These little insults are so comforting.
Okay: What’s worse, that I’m watching it or that you know what it
is?"

"You tell me."

"Anyway...how did you find me?"

"I followed Zainab. I knew she used to live
around here. I saw her come in, but she didn’t bring anything
out."

"God, you just get worse and worse, don’t
you? Remember how I said I’d kill you if you touched my friends?
Stalking is close enough. Leave now or I won’t be responsible for
what might happen."

"I wasn’t stalking Zainab."

"I think what you mean is that you were but
you didn’t want to screw her, but that doesn’t really matter. So
why don’t you make your call to Alex and I’ll make mine to
Richard?"

"Are you done?"

"Isn’t that my line?" He scoffed and looked
away. "And how did you get in?"

He shrugged. "I waited until someone was
coming in, and then I pretended to have lost my front door
key."

"Terrific. You’ve got a promising career of
burglary in front of you."

"I did try buzzing a few hours ago, but you
didn’t answer," he said resentfully.

Miranda scratched her head. "Yeah, I must
have been asleep. That's what woke me up. Thanks a lot."

"It was four in the afternoon."

"Right, like you keep a disciplined
schedule."

"Fine," he said, turning and throwing up his
hand. "Whatever you want."

"Whatever I want? That’s off the table, I
think, and if that’s what you came here for, you can get out. Even
if it’s not what you came for, get out. Go ahead and give Alex my
exact address, and I’ll be happy to call the cops on him too."
Michael didn’t move. "Michael, what? Can we just finish this? And
then you can leave?"

Michael smiled a little bit and looked at the
floor. "Last night didn’t go as I’d planned," he said at last.

"Sorry. Next time you can get a teenager and
get her drunk and coked up." She stopped, remembering something.
"Wait, you did that already, didn’t you? Last year at that club?
Well, go to another one this time because I think they remember
what you look like there."

"I don’t want a teenager."

"Something else I don’t believe, and you know
what? We’re done." She grabbed his wrist and started pulling him to
the door.

He pulled free easily. "Please just listen to
me."

She turned her back to him. "Thirty
seconds."

Deep breath. "I’m sorry."

She had never heard those words out of
Michael’s mouth before, ever. She turned around. His eyes were
teary and his color high. "You’re sorry?"

"I’m sorry," he repeated.

"For what?" she said, though not as harshly
as before.

"For...last night. For...being so cruel right
before. For...everything. I really never wanted to hurt you."

"Funny, you’ve been practicing your entire
life."

Michael laughed softly. It spooked Miranda
even more than the unsolicited apology. "I know. I’m sorry for that
too. I never...believe it or not, you’re the last person I wanted
to hurt."

"Not."

He looked up and smiled more genuinely than
she’d ever seen before. "Do you remember the day you came to live
with us? I do. You were wearing that little dress with the pink
flowers, and you were eating an ice cream cone. It was melting down
the front of your dress. When I first saw you, I thought you were
the prettiest thing I’d ever seen. I knew who you were. I wanted to
hate you, I really did, but I couldn’t. I never did."

This was too much. She sank onto the couch
armrest again and shook her head. "Give me a break. You did hate
me. You called me every name you could think of, you almost crashed
me down the stairs, you tormented my friends, and you did it
whenever you wanted for my entire life. That’s defined as hating
someone, as far as most people are concerned."

"I hated Alex."

"And you took it out on me. Same difference,
isn’t it?"

"No, because it made me feel even worse every
time I did something to you."

"Then you must have felt pretty rotten."

"I guess I assumed everyone always knew
that."