The Family You Choose

by Deborah Nam-Krane

  Alex strummed his fingers on the table. That might work to his advantage, but it was a little bit of a risk at this point.

  CHAPTER 43

  Miranda had been searching for the perfect dress to wear to the Friends of the Boston Public Library Benefit for weeks. She’d found it at last. It was a long, black silk column, with a very slight tulip hem. She’d had it altered so it fit her perfectly. The tailor had recommended that she wear a very high heel with it to accentuate the long lines of the dress. She wasn’t used to that, but for one night she could manage.

  Michael put on a black suit and had finally gotten his hair cut for the occasion. Miranda laughed because he wouldn’t otherwise admit how much this event meant to him.

  Once again, Michael was speechless when he saw her. "Wow," he finally managed. "You look beautiful."

  She came up to him. In the heels, she was almost as tall as he was. "And you look very handsome."

  "We’re such a good looking couple," he teased. "I think we should just stay in and let them mail us the plaque."

  "Do you know how much I spent on this dress? I think I’d like to be seen in it for a few hours. Just to get my money’s worth."

  "Babe, you already have."

  They took a cab to the hotel and were seated with the Chairman and his family. Miranda, well-versed in the library history and current affairs, had given Michael a preview of topics that might come up. Michael held his own in conversation and brought up a few ideas for fundraising. Miranda smiled yet again. What other hidden talents would she find in him?

  After the Chairman’s speech, Michael went up to hand over the ceremonial check and accept his plaque. "Thank you. But the real thanks tonight should go to my beautiful, generous wife, Miranda Abbot. Without her, I wouldn’t be standing before you right now, donation or no." The Chairman raised a glass to Miranda, who beamed at her husband.

  Michael was pulled away into several different conversations. She excused herself to go into the powder room. She came out a few minutes later and was walking back to the hall when she heard someone behind her.

  "You look lovely in that dress, Miranda. But black has always suited you."

  She turned around. There he was. All those years that she’d pined for him to acknowledge what she felt—what he felt—there it was. But it didn’t matter anymore.

  "Hello, Alex," she said politely. "I didn’t realize you were a contributor."

  He took a step closer. "Someone makes a donation that large, word gets around."

  "And you made a donation yourself just to be invited?"

  "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.

  CHAPTER 44

  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."

  CHAPTER 45

  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."

  "Okay."

  But neither of them slept. He stroked her hair, which seemed okay now. "I would do anything for you. Just ask me."

  "Or to me."

  He closed his eyes and lay back. "I’m sorry about last night." He held his breath. "Both parts."

  "I didn’t say no."

  "I didn’t give you a chance." He exhaled, willing himself not to make it worse by crying.

  "Fine, have it your way, if that makes you feel better."

  "It makes me feel worse."

  "Why?"

  "Why? Because I hurt you." He was silent. "Every time I’ve made love to you, you’ve...I could tell you wanted me. And I knew I was...doing something right." He looked at her sadly. "Maybe not the first time. The first time you didn’t say anything. You didn’t even move. I don’t think I could have done anything to get a reaction from you." He took a deep breath, trying hard not to cry. "You didn’t even want me to kiss you."

  "You hadn’t left a great impression."

  "No, I guess I hadn’t."

  "And it didn’t stop you. You did what you had to."

  "A different part of your brain takes over, I guess. You think if you...do enough you might get a reaction."

  "I didn’t think you cared."

  "What do you think now?"

  She rolled onto her back. "I think I want to know why you followed me the next day."

  A part of him had always hoped he’d have the chance to tell her, but it didn’t seem to matter now. "I was worried about you. I didn’t know where you would go. I wanted to make sure that you were okay."

  "You sure you didn’t just want to run into Alex and rub it in his face? I think you want more from him than you do from me."

  "I was looking for you before he was."

  "You get a gold star."

  "I just want you."