The Family You Choose (29 page)

"Yes."

"Well, I hope it was money well spent. If
you’ll excuse me, my husband is waiting."

"Your husband!" Alex cried out. "Do you have
any idea..? It’s obscene."

She turned to face him. "You are not in a
position to lecture anyone on obscenities, especially me. Or him.
Unless you have another word for lying to me my entire life."

"You don’t know the whole story."

"Is there a better part than the one about
you sleeping with my mother?" The old wound, so deeply buried,
resurfaced. "I guess I can see why you wouldn’t have mentioned
that."

"There was no reason you ever needed to know
about my relationship with her."

"But it might have helped. I might not have
wasted so much time on certain things."

"Was it really all wasted?" he whispered.

She was just about to tell him that she was
married, that she loved Michael, when she saw her husband right
behind Alex. "Michael," she said with relief.

He didn’t look at her. He glared at Alex.
"You need to get away from my wife, now."

"And you need to listen. This farce of a
marriage has to come to an end—now."

Miranda started to laugh with indignation,
but then Michael punched Alex in the face. "Oh my God!" She was
going to run over to Alex to make sure that he was okay, but then
Michael grabbed her arm. "Let’s go."

Michael dragged her outside and fairly threw
her into a cab. Still shaken by the encounter with Alex, she didn’t
notice that Michael still wasn’t looking at her. "I guess the two
of you are even now."

"Are we?"

Michael stormed up the stairs to the house
and pushed open the door. Miranda, slower in her heels, closed the
door. Michael was in the dark and had already poured himself a
drink. "Did you know he was going to be there?" he demanded as soon
as she was in the room.

"What?" She froze. "How could I have
known?"

"When was the last time you spoke to
him?"

"The night you told me the truth and I
trashed his office."

"Really? You’ve avoided him since then?"

"Did you not notice that I don’t leave the
house very much?"

"I can’t really be sure what you do when I’m
not home."

She felt like he’d hit her. "You’re being
ridiculous."

"Am I? I saw the way he looked at you
tonight. Is that why you got that dress?"

"I got it for you."

"What were you going to say to him before I
came?"

"About what?"

"About wasted time."

"I…" He didn’t deserve an answer. "It doesn’t
matter now."

"Yes it does!" He threw his drink against the
wall, and Miranda stood back. He leapt up and grabbed her arm. "Did
you ever sleep with him?"

Her eyes were adjusting to the dark and she
could see him now. She wished she couldn’t. "You were the first
person, and you know that. And even if you hadn’t been, you have no
right to ask about anyone, because I’ve never asked you."

"I wasn’t in love with any of them."

"That makes me feel so much better."

"Did you touch Alex, ever?" His grip
tightened around her arm, and Miranda, for the first time, was
genuinely afraid.

"Let go of me now," she said, her voice
trembling. She struggled to break free, but he held on tighter.

"Did you touch Alex, ever?" he repeated.

"Get off of me!" She pushed him and finally
got free, but she lost her balance. She tried to steady herself,
but unable to see well in the dark, she crashed onto the floor on
her left side.

She groaned. Her ankle hurt. Her left side
was numb. She was in shock, unable to move or believe.

He was on the floor right next to her. He
grabbed her right arm. "Answer me. Answer me!" He kneeled over her
and pulled her up so she was sitting. She cried out because her
ankle hurt. He shook her by the shoulders. "Did you touch
Alex?"

"Yes!" she screamed. "I kissed him twice, a
bunch of times. He’s a good kisser. I almost slept with him, too,
but then he lost his nerve. Lucky for you, huh?"

"You little tramp!" he hissed. That was
enough. She grabbed her fallen shoe and hit him on the side of the
head. He shouted in pain while she hopped up onto her right foot
and tried to get to the bedroom as quickly as she could.

Not quickly enough. Before she could get the
bedroom door closed, he pushed it open. She fell again, but she
scrambled up this time as quickly as she could. He pushed her onto
the bed.

She beat his chest, she scratched his face
and neck. "Get away from me!" she screamed, crying. "You’re
crazy!"

"Because it’s so crazy to think of you with
him, hmm? Wasn’t that your lifelong goal?"

She didn’t know where she was anymore, or who
she was with. Maybe she was back in Alex’s house, and Michael had
just got caught up to her and was pushing her on the stairs,
threatening to send her over the railing. But this hurt worse. She
couldn’t move her arms any more. She didn’t care what happened
next, or at all. She rolled over onto her right side and buried her
head into her knees. She sobbed until her whole body, already in
agony, shook.

"Don’t...don’t," she heard Michael say, but
she didn’t know what it meant. It didn’t matter. "Don’t cry, please
don’t cry." She felt him lie down behind her. "I’m sorry, I’m
sorry." She felt his hands moving over her, and she sobbed harder.
But she let him roll her over, and she didn’t stop him when he
kissed her. She still didn’t know who she was with.

An hour later, she lay looking at the ceiling
but not really seeing it. She knew he was looking at her, but she
couldn’t look at him.

"Say something, please."

She blinked. She sat up. She pulled a sheet
up to cover herself, then hobbled into the bathroom and locked the
door.

She took off her makeup and started a bath.
She couldn’t stand long enough for a shower. She added bubbles. She
didn’t want to look at her bruised body. She washed herself as well
as she could without hurting herself even further. Then she lay in
the tub for a while.

She forced herself to get out once when she
realized she was falling asleep. She dried herself off and put on
one of her nightshirts. She came out and painfully made her way
into the guestroom. She locked the door and lay on the bed. This
was the room Richard had used when he was a child and he spent the
night. Richard, her dream big brother, who would never let anything
bad happen to her. She cried herself to sleep, thinking about him
and Zainab, who were the only other people left in her world.

She woke up as soon as the light came through
the window. She hobbled into the bathroom, and then went into their
bedroom. She didn’t say a word to Michael, who was cleaning up the
glass he’d shattered in the living room.

He opened the door fifteen minutes later. She
was sitting on the bed. Her clothes were next to her, but she was
looking at her lap.

He put his hand on her head. She flinched and
moved away.

"Are you...alright?"

She blinked. "My ankle hurts."

"Does anything else hurt?"

"My side hurts."

"I think you have to go to a doctor," he said
quietly.

"Yeah," she said. "They’re not open yet. I’ll
go in a few hours."

"I’ll take you."

"You’ll be at work, I think."

"I’ll stay home."

"I can take a cab."

"I want to take you."

"I want you to go to work."

He sighed. "Can I at least pick you up when
you’re done?"

"I can take a cab from there too."

"Please let me pick you up."

"Fine. Pick me up."

He didn’t move. She could see his waist and
belt from where she sat. She didn’t want to look at his face.
"Richard and Zainab are coming over tonight."

"Right, I remember." She had been looking
forward to the visit.

"Should I call Richard and tell him next week
would be better?"

"No. Richard doesn’t have a lot of time these
days. Who knows when we’ll be able to see him again?"

"What should we have for dinner then?"

"Whatever you want. I’m not hungry."

He waited a moment more. "You’ll call me to
pick you up?"

"I’ll call you to pick me up."

"Okay."

When she heard the door close she gathered
her clothes into her body and cried.

~~~

Miranda’s appointment was at one. However,
because of the wait and because she needed multiple x-rays, she
didn’t get out until four. Michael had been waiting since two.
Tears came to his eyes when he saw her leaning on a cane.

"A cane?" he said when they were in the
elevator.

Miranda shrugged, looking down at the floor.
"They recommended crutches at first, but when they saw how banged
up my left side was, they thought that would probably be too
painful."

Michael helped Miranda into the car. They got
caught in construction traffic near the river. He looked at her,
and she could see that he was still fighting tears. But she didn’t
know what to say.

They finally got home at five-thirty. She
went into the kitchen and got some water. She moved awkwardly into
the living room, throwing the cane into the bedroom in disgust. "I
can’t use that thing," she muttered.

"Do you need anything?" he asked, coming to
sit next to her.

She shook her head, still unable to look at
him. "They gave me some painkillers, but they made me feel
funny."

Gingerly, he touched her hair. "Maybe you
should get some sleep."

"What time are Zainab and Richard coming
over?"

"In an hour. But they’ll understand-"

"No, I don’t want to sleep."

~~~

Zainab kissed Michael on the cheek when she
came in. Richard laughed when he saw the take out boxes on the
table. "What’s wrong, Michael? We don’t rate cooking anymore?"

"Sorry—things were a little crazy this
afternoon."

"And that was all my fault, I’m afraid,"
Miranda cut in, waving her hand.

Zainab gasped and walked over to the couch.
"Sweetie! What happened?"

"Four inch heels can be a killer, believe you
me," Miranda said with a laugh. Michael shuddered a little bit.

"Well, I’m sure you looked great in the
dress," Zainab said.

"Yes, she did," Michael said quietly.

Miranda forced herself to be as normal as
possible during dinner. Michael looked like the sullen boy who used
to glare at her across a dinner table. But he wouldn’t get off that
easy. She forced him to participate in the conversation, talking
about work and the benefit last night, even showing off the plaque
someone from the library had dropped off earlier. He could take
only so much, though, and he cut short the conversation when he
began to clear the dishes.

Zainab gave Richard a look. "Yes," he nodded,
"I think I’ll help him in there. We both do pretty well with
cooking, but dishes are another story."

Zainab smiled at Miranda. Now she wanted to
shrink away and hide. "How did you fall?" Zainab asked as she
sipped her wine.

"Same way most people do," Miranda shrugged.
"Lost my balance."

"You must have really hurt yourself," Zainab
said. "You’ve been wincing every time you move your left arm."

"I fell on my left side."

"All the way down?"

"I can be klutzy sometimes."

"I hadn’t noticed. Where did you fall?"

"Right there." She pointed to the corner of
the room.

"That’s a weird place to fall."

"True that."

"But it’s good that Michael was there to help
you, right? Because that would explain the scratches on his wrist
and neck, and the bruise on your right arm."

"What bruise?"

"The one Michael gave you when he grabbed
you, to break your fall. The one you’re hiding under your
sweater."

"Wow, Zainab. Why even bother with medical
school when you already have all the answers?"

"Do you want to talk?"

"We are talking."

Zainab squeezed Miranda’s hand. "Okay."
Miranda squeezed back.

When Michael and Richard came back in,
Miranda was smiling through her tears as she talked about some
television show she and Zainab liked. Zainab rubbed her hand, and
Miranda kept talking. But she was aware that everyone was looking
at her, and finally just shook her head, still smiling, still
crying.

"I’m sorry guys. I am so tired, and I kind of
hurt now. A lot. Maybe I should have taken those pain meds after
all. I think I should just turn in." Zainab stood up to help her,
but Miranda shook her head. "No, I’m fine. I’ll call you tomorrow."
She waved to Richard. "And I’ll call you this weekend, okay?" Then
she hobbled off into the bedroom and closed the door.

~~~

At the door, Zainab kissed Michael good bye,
and Richard gave him a hug. "If you need to talk—"

Michael nodded his head. "Thanks Richard. But
everything’s fine."

"Of course."

Zainab and Richard were both quiet on the
ride back home. "Are you thinking what I’m thinking?" Zainab said
once they’d gotten in.

Richard sighed. "Yeah, but I was enjoying not
thinking it."

Miranda was in her night shirt when Michael
came in thirty minutes later. She was facing the wall, but he knew
she was awake. He sighed as he put on his pajamas. It was the first
night of their married life that he wouldn’t be laying skin to skin
next to her.

She didn’t move when he got into bed with
her. He looked at the back of her head in the dark, unable to think
of anything to say or do. At last he put his hands on her leg,
where he knew she wasn’t hurt. He involuntarily squeezed her
leg.

"I don’t think I can tonight," she said
without any emotion.

He sighed. "I know. I wasn’t asking you
to."