“They probably don’t want you turning it into a miniskirt, and wearing it with no underwear and high heels.” Her twin was capable of it, as they both knew.
“I wish I’d thought of that. I’ve been wearing sandals that give me calluses and blisters. My feet are a mess.” It was all she could say after two months of hiding from a killer. But she sounded in good spirits, and was thrilled to be coming back to New York. “They’re flying me back today,” she said nonchalantly, as though she were coming back from a magazine shoot for Vogue.
“I can’t wait to see you,” Sasha said with feeling. “It was hard not being able to call you.”
“I know. It was for me too,” Valentina admitted. “Are you working today?”
“Not till tonight.” They talked for a few more minutes and hung up.
—
Claire and her mother were going over spreadsheets later that afternoon, sitting on the couch. Abby was packing in her room, which she had been doing for weeks, when she wasn’t writing. Charlie was lying in a patch of sunlight near the window, and Morgan had just come in with groceries, when the doorbell rang, and Sasha opened it, and Valentina was standing there in all her glory, in a short black leather skirt, a red sweater, and thigh-high boots with stiletto heels. The two sisters flew into each other’s arms in a crushing embrace, and then Valentina let out a scream, as she looked at her twin.
“What happened to your hair?” It was still short and dark brown.
“You did. They had to change my looks,” Sasha said. It was the first day she hadn’t worn the blue contact lenses in two months, and she’d thrown them away.
“That is a sacrifice. Alex must hate me. You look like shit with dark hair.” She grinned.
“Thanks.” She noticed that there was a man standing behind her sister then, looking awkward. He was a strong, handsome guy with huge shoulders, and a young face. He was wearing a white T-shirt, jeans, and scuffed cowboy boots, and a windbreaker with an NYPD patch on it, and a suspicious bulge under it, which Sasha recognized now as a shoulder holster, and had hoped never to see again. “Do you still need protection?” she asked her in an undertone. Lieutenant O’Rourke had said it was all over, but Valentina clearly had a cop with her, still.
“A girl always needs protection,” Valentina said as she smiled coyly over her shoulder. “This is Bert. He was on the detail in Arizona, dressed as a priest. We looked pretty cute together, as a priest and a nun.” She laughed, and he smiled at her adoringly, and then nodded at Sasha. He looked about six or seven years younger than her sister. And it was suddenly obvious what he was doing there. She had brought him home as the spoils of war. As Sasha looked at him, she remembered the lieutenant’s cryptic comment about her sister, that she was a handful. Now she could see why he’d said it. She was involved with one of the cops. Sasha was sure they’d appreciated it at the monastery. Valentina was incurable. There was always a guy, preferably with a gun. But at least this one was on the right side of the law. Sasha wondered what she would do with him now that she was back in her own world. The fast lane would provide its lures very soon, with all the flashy people she knew. Her young cop in the T-shirt would last about five minutes in her world. Sasha invited him to come in and sit down, and he hesitated and then went to pet the dog. Men seemed to love Charlie—every male in the room always gravitated to him.
Abby came out of her room and saw them then, and gave Valentina a hug. And Claire and her mother had done the same. It was always odd seeing her—it was like seeing Sasha, and yet totally different, but you expected them to be the same person. And they were anything but that.
“Welcome back,” Abby said warmly, trying not to stare at Bert and wondering who he was. He was actually older than he looked but not by much.
“Do you want me to leave you alone with the girls?” he asked Valentina politely, as they exchanged an intimate look that told the whole story of the past two months and what she had done at the monastery for entertainment. She had switched partners, but not her game.
“Sure,” Valentina said easily. “Do you want to come back in half an hour?”
He looked easygoing about it and followed her lead. “Can I take the dog for a walk?” he asked with a grin.
“He’d love it,” Abby answered as the dog sat up and gave Bert his paw, who shook it solemnly.
“I worked with a German shepherd for a while,” he said seriously, “in narcotics. He was great, but he got shot, and they had to put him down.”
“Lucky we didn’t do that to you,” Sasha said to her twin pointedly as Abby handed Bert the leash, and he and Charlie left. Sasha turned to her twin with a stern expression. “What in hell are you doing? How old is he?”
“Twenty-nine. He just looks like a kid. He’s an adult. Very much so.” She gave her sister a lascivious look, and Sasha groaned.
“What are you going to do with him now? The poor guy will get eaten alive in your world.”
“I’ve changed,” Valentina said demurely. “I don’t want to mess around with bad guys anymore. And how much better does it get than a cop? He’s one of the good guys, playing on the right team. And I feel safe with him.” Sasha was sorry to hear it, although he was admittedly an improvement over Jean-Pierre, who was as bad as she could have found.
“What about a doctor or a lawyer?”
“Yeah, or that nice guy Morgan worked for, who’s going to prison for the next hundred years. Not all the bad ones are so obvious,” she told her less-worldly sister. Sasha had led a protected life, by choice. And initially, Valentina had too. She’d gotten lost somewhere along the way, when money and fame and the fast track hit her too soon. “I like Bert. He makes me happy, he’s a sweet person. He takes care of me. He’s not complicated. He doesn’t care who I’ve been with or why. He lives for today.”
“Do you really want to be with a cop? Is he quitting the force for you?” Sasha hoped not, because Valentina would dump him in a hot minute when someone more exciting came along. She was sure her twin was going to break his heart, and possibly destroy his career, and she wouldn’t care a whit about it. She did whatever suited her, in the moment, with total disregard for the damage she caused. Sasha loved her sister, but she knew how selfish she was. She was a narcissist through and through.
“I don’t care what he does for a living. He’s nice to me,” she said simply.
“And he’s poor,” Sasha reminded her. “You don’t like poor men.” That was part of the problem too. She sold out for money every time, and most of the men whom she met with that kind of money were questionable or dangerous. At least he wasn’t.
“I have enough for both of us,” Valentina said casually, and then sat down near Claire and her mother. Abby had gone back to her room to continue packing. “What’s everyone been up to?”
“We’re starting a shoe business,” Claire told her. “My mom came to help me, and she’s living here now. And Abby is moving to L.A., to work on a movie for a year.”
“That’s a big change.” Valentina looked surprised. The cast of characters at the loft had been stable for years. It was shocking to think of one of them leaving, and then she realized her sister would too when she got married. “How’s the wedding coming?” she inquired.
“It’s in June. In New York. You’re the maid of honor,” Sasha informed her. “The girls are my bridesmaids. June fourteenth. You’d better be there,” Sasha said seriously.
“Can I bring Bert?” Valentina asked innocently.
“If he’s still around by then,” which she doubted. It was three and a half months away, a long time for her twin to be with the same guy.
“We’ll see,” Valentina said vaguely. Bert came back with the dog then, and kissed her lightly when he walked in.
“Great dog! We should get one like that,” he told Valentina, and she nodded. She looked like she was ready to do anything for him. Sasha remembered that Patty Hearst had married one of her police bodyguards, so people did sometimes, and got attached to the
men who protected them. Maybe it worked. Valentina kissed her and then left with Bert to go to her apartment, in Tribeca. Jean-Pierre had been murdered at his place, not hers, so her apartment was pristine. Bert had brought some things over that afternoon, and she had invited him to move in. The detail was over, but their life together was just beginning. Sasha was still shaking her head when they left, and Claire grinned at her knowingly.
“At least he’s gainfully employed and won’t go to prison,” she commented. It was more than she could say about the man she’d been in love with, who was out on bail, still leading the high life, according to Page Six. He was getting money from somewhere. She went back to work on the spreadsheets then, and Sasha helped Morgan put the groceries away, thinking about Valentina and Bert. It was nice to have her back.
—
When Abby left at the beginning of March, it was heart-wrenching. They all felt as though they were losing a leg, or an arm, or some essential part of them. Abby was an integral part of their self-made family, and had been there for nine years with Claire. They all cried and were depressed for days afterward. Abby was staying with her parents in L.A. but was planning to get her own apartment. She said she’d move back in a year, but no one believed her. She would get entwined in the life of Hollywood, particularly if Josh’s indie film was a success, which sounded likely.
She took Charlie with her, and the house seemed dead. A week later Sasha came home from work and found Morgan crying in the kitchen. And it was hard to guess why Morgan was crying—she had so many reasons to. Her lost job. The fact that she might never find another one as good—a future employer might not trust her, or even hire her. She had been irreversibly tainted by George, maybe forever. And they all missed Abby.
Sasha put her arms around her and gave her a hug. “I miss her too.” It was like losing her little sister. Even during her travails with Ivan, she had been a warm, loving presence who brightened their existence. And with Morgan depressed about losing her job, the atmosphere in the apartment had been very subdued. And as Sasha hugged her, she shook her head and sobbed.
“It’s not Abby,” she managed to choke out the words.
“You’ll find another job.” She knew Morgan liked working at Max’s with him for the time being, but she was worried about the future of her career. Morgan shook her head again, and Sasha looked at her, mystified over why she was sobbing inconsolably.
“I’m pregnant!” Morgan blurted, and collapsed into a kitchen chair with overwhelming grief.
“Oh my God,” Sasha said, and sat down next to her. That had never happened to any of them. They were cautious and responsible, and kept an unlimited supply of condoms in both bathrooms for everyone’s use. They were grown-ups and took good care. “How did that happen?”
“I don’t know. I took an antibiotic for an ear infection—maybe it canceled out my pill, or I missed one. I’m two months pregnant.” She looked at Sasha miserably. “I just figured it out, and I took a test. I’m screwed. I missed a period when they closed the office. I thought it was just stress.”
“Have you told Max?” Morgan shook her head. She was sure it had happened when George got arrested. They’d had sex more than usual, for comfort. And now her worst nightmare had happened, and she was out of a job.
“If I told him, he’d want the baby, and he knows I don’t want kids. He’ll break up with me if I have an abortion. He’s Irish Catholic, and he loves kids. I want an abortion, Sash. I can’t even tell him.” And then she looked at her friend hopefully. “Would you do it?” Morgan trusted her completely.
“No, but I can refer you to someone who will, if that’s what you want. You should probably tell him, though. He’ll get even madder if he finds out later and knows you lied to him.”
“I know. I’m screwed either way. And I’m not going to have it. I can’t. Children terrify me, they always have. I have no maternal instincts at all.”
“You might surprise yourself,” Sasha said gently. “You love him, that helps.”
All Morgan could do was cry as she sat at the kitchen table with Sasha’s arms around her. Morgan said it was the worst thing that had ever happened to her, and Sasha felt sorry for her. Morgan was devastated, and Max figured out for himself that Morgan was pregnant when she threw up three mornings in a row. He asked her, and her face told him the whole story. She didn’t want to lie to him and deny it. She burst into tears as soon as he asked.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked with a broad smile as he put his arms around her. He was thrilled.
“I don’t want it,” she said in a deep sorrowful voice. “I always told you that. I don’t want kids.”
“Planned ones, okay, I get that. But this happened. You can’t just brush it away. It’s our baby.” He had tears in his eyes when he said it, and he was shocked at her expression. She was like a cornered animal, and she would do anything to survive.
“It’s not a baby. It’s a mistake, an accident. It’s a nothing right now,” she said, panicked.
“That’s bullshit and you know it. How pregnant are you, anyway?” He looked as rattled as she did, but for the opposite reason. He wanted it, she didn’t. And he was willing to fight for its survival, she wanted to kill it. It was about to become a huge battle.
“Two months,” she answered in a flat tone. “I’m going to have an abortion,” she said with an iron will in her eyes.
“When?”
“Soon.”
“Over my dead body. Is Sasha doing it?” His eyes were blazing with fury.
“She refused,” Morgan said honestly.
“At least there’s one decent human being around here. I want you to know that if you have an abortion, I will never forgive you, and it’s over with us.”
“I know,” she said quietly. But it didn’t change her mind. She hadn’t wanted it to happen this way. She hadn’t wanted him to know, because she knew it would end like this, probably forever. She knew it was true when he said that he would never forgive her. It was against everything he believed in, and he wanted their child, he always had. He slammed out of the apartment then, and didn’t stay with her that night. She knew the battle they were having over her unwanted pregnancy was the beginning of the end, either way, whoever won.
Chapter 20
The war over the fetus in Morgan’s womb raged on for weeks. Max wouldn’t sleep at the apartment, and told her not to come to the restaurant until she made a decision. And in his mind there was only one to make, to keep the baby. There was no other acceptable option, to him.
They stopped seeing each other entirely, and Morgan was still sure she wanted an abortion, but hadn’t scheduled it yet because she knew that when she did, Max would never see her again. He said it and he meant it, and she believed him. She loved him, but not his baby. And for him they were one and the same—there were no shades of gray, or good reasons for an abortion. It was a yes-or-no decision, to keep it or not. She couldn’t have it and send it back. He even asked her to have the baby and let him raise it, and she wouldn’t. That sounded twisted to her. She wasn’t going to give birth to a child and give it up. It made more sense to put an end to it before it happened and ruined their lives, but it already had.
She tried to explain again how she felt about it, and he wouldn’t listen to her. All he wanted to hear was that she had changed her decision. She had made it, but not acted on it yet.
“You have to do something soon,” Sasha prodded her, not wanting to influence her. “Either keep it, or terminate. You’re getting close to three months, and they won’t give you an abortion after that.”
“I know. I feel like I’m losing him and the baby at the same time.” Sasha didn’t disagree. Max had talked to her and he was vehement, not just morally or religiously but because he loved Morgan and had always wanted their child. And he figured this was his only chance—Morgan would never let it happen again. Sasha thought he was right about that. It was a huge trauma to her.
For three weeks, Morgan h
ad sat around the apartment hoping Max would change his mind, but he refused to talk to her. And he had answered none of the e-mails or texts where she had tried to explain her position to him.
“He’s being a total asshole,” she said to Sasha.
“He’s certainly being rigid. Most guys don’t want the baby. He does.”
“He’d rather lose me than the baby,” Morgan added. He had even called a lawyer and had looked into a court order to stop her because it was his child too, but it was her body, and the courts respected that, and wouldn’t interfere. It was her right to choose. Max was beside himself over it, and he missed her. But he refused to back down. He had said clearly that if she aborted, they were through.
By now, Morgan was very emotional and cried all the time. She had a few days left to decide, and Sasha went to the doctor with her to support her while she made the final decision. Knowing she would lose Max if she aborted the baby was slowing her down. But she wanted him, not the child.
They did a routine sonogram while she was at the doctor, in Technicolor and 3D, and what they saw was a healthy baby. Its heart was strong, and everything was perfect. She started to cry even more after she saw it, and talked to the doctor about an abortion. She said she would call to set it up the next day, and the doctor didn’t push her either way. She said she could fit her in the following afternoon for a termination if that was her decision.
All she did was cry on the way home. She was convinced a baby would destroy her life. She remembered her hideous life as a child, her drunken mother and irresponsible father who cheated on her. The miserable life they had led until they died young, and they had had no pleasure from their children, and had had nothing to give her or her brother. She wanted no part of that nightmare, which was more vivid to her than the baby in 3D.
She went to bed when they got back to the apartment, after she threw up again. She was sick all the time now too, but Sasha thought it was because she wasn’t eating and was so upset, which made everything worse. She had been through a lot in the past three months, with the demise of her career, and now an unwanted pregnancy.
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