Anabel Unraveled (13 page)

“It depends on what Anabel wants.” I watched to see how she took that one.

Her expression did not change. “Anabel wants nothing to do with you. She isn’t that dumb.”

“Are you sure about that, Lexie?” I said slyly. “Or are you just saying that because you’re jealous?”

She banged the door open. “Upstairs. Doctor Miller is with her.”

As I walked up the stairs, I heard Anabel talking to Sam. “He should be here any minute,” I heard her say. “I didn’t expect Kevin to be here so early.”

“I can’t believe you invited him,” he replied.

“Well, I can’t change that now,” she retorted. “Besides, I need to see more of him so I can figure out what to do about—oh.” As I stood in the doorway, her blue eyes focused on me. “It’s no wonder Alexis doesn’t like you. You shouldn’t sneak up like that.”

A greeting I probably deserved. “Good morning to you, too,” I replied. I looked at her brother. “Sam.”

He grunted. “I have things to attend to. I will see you later, Anabel.” Ignoring me, he left the room, leaving the two of us to stare awkwardly at each other. She was still in her nightgown, her messy hair spread over the pillow. She indicated a chair close to her. “You can sit there if you like.”

“Won’t the doctor need to sit there?” I asked.

“No, he usually uses that little stool over there.” She pointed to the far corner of the room. Then she grinned. “Don’t worry. I know it doesn’t look it, but I did brush my teeth this morning.”

I sat down next to her. “Hey, I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t behave any better than you did.” She looked away, and another uncomfortable silence ensued.

“So,” I said, attempting to break the tension, “I was talking to my mom this morning.”

She looked thoughtful. “I guess it never occurred to me that you might actually have parents. I just assumed you hatched somewhere.”

“Ouch.” She was smiling, though. I supposed it was no different from most of the other accusatory epithets she flung at me.

“Tell me about your parents,” she demanded.

“They’re both retired and live in Cape Cod. My mom was an elementary school teacher and my father was an accountant who used to work for Sam‘s parents. They’re both very sweet people—despite having me for a son.”

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” She ignored the self-deprecation.

“Two sisters, actually. They’re twins and are eight years younger than me. Crystal is in England right now. She’s a Rhoades scholar and is studying at Cambridge. Meghan actually lives in the District. She’s a public defender, and we usually get dinner every Wednesday night, during which she repeatedly tells me what a horrible excuse for a brother I am.”

“They sound delightful,” came the reply. “Are they identical?”

“Yes, but they don’t look that much alike. Crystal has long blonde hair that she keeps down to her waist, and she always dresses vaguely medieval. You know, long flowing skirts, etc. Meghan cut her hair short and dyed it red, and I can’t remember the last time I didn’t see her wearing a pantsuit.” I should probably call her and confirm for this afternoon. She had left me two more voicemails the night before, which I hadn’t answered as I was too preoccupied with the recent realization I was about to be a father. Also, I was looking forward to her perception of Anabel’s disclosure to the media, and I was sure she would lecture me on how irresponsible she thought I was.

There was a tap at the door. “Anabel? May I come in?”

“Hi Kevin!” she called. “Yes you may, I’m dressed.”

So Kevin Miller walked in, and I took a moment to size up the competition.

I’m taller than he is, but not by much. He was thin—gaunt, really—and his lab coat hung on him. My best guess was his time in prison did not treat him well.

Anabel was cheerful. “Kevin, this is Jared, the unsuspecting father of the baby. Jared, this is Dr. Kevin Miller, my good friend.” We shook hands. Despite the lean appearance, he had a firm grip, and I could tell I was not welcome with him.

“How are you feeling?” he asked her, tenderly. It was obvious he still had a thing for her.

“Dandy,” she replied. “I haven’t thrown up yet this morning! I think we’re making some progress!”

He laughed and then started checking her vitals. “How’s your stress level?”

“Gross,” she said, making a face. “I lost it at the hearing yesterday.”

“So I read,” he told her.

Her eyes widened. “Oh no—where?”

“In the Post,” he replied.

“Really?” she asked, fascinated. “I’m that big of a deal, huh?” She beamed. “Were there pictures?”

“Oh yes,” he said, “of you and Mr. Sorensen here.”

She let out a hysterical giggle. I didn’t like this at all. Her moods were all over the place, and it wasn’t just the pregnancy. I wanted to get her away from all of this. Maybe if the two of us could go somewhere, somewhere far from everything and just talk things over, then we could work out all of this insanity.

“Jared?” she asked, and I looked at her. Her face was flushed. “Do you want to see the baby?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure,” I said.

Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t sound that sure,” she accused.

I smiled, hoping to placate her. “I am sure. I just was thinking. I’m sorry.”

She relaxed. “Ok, show us,” she told Kevin.

He looked at me. “Can you turn out the lights?”

I obliged, and he said to her, “You’ll feel a little cold. Let’s see what’s going on here.” The next thing I knew, there it was. On the screen. Our baby.

“There’s the heart, nice and strong,” Kevin showed her. “And it looks like . . . it’s definitely a girl.”

Anabel sent me a sideways smile. “I told you.”

“I believed you,” I said. “This is amazing.” I took her hand.

“Well, everything looks good.” Kevin began packing up his things. “Call me if you need anything, otherwise I’ll see you in two weeks.”

“Thank you, Kevin,” she smiled. “You’re the best.”

“I’m just glad you’re feeling better. I know it was really rough for you.”

She nodded, and I frowned. “What does he mean by that?”

“Oh, well . . .” Anabel paused. “Well, you see, I got really sick once I hit nine weeks along.”

Kevin was packing up his things and he stopped to look at her. “That’s almost an understatement. She couldn’t keep anything down. She could barely get out of bed—”

“—and,” Anabel cut in, “I went through a minor fit of depression. I spent most of my time, lying in bed, alternating between reading and watching reruns of The Golden Girls and old movies.” She sighed. “But I just didn’t feel like doing anything else. And once I realized how hard eating was, I lost my desire to do it.”

There was another uneasy silence, and then she added, “But then I realized that there was a poor, innocent baby who was depending on me for sustenance, I started forcing myself to eat. And I have to admit, I started to feel better.”

Kevin nodded again. “She’s done a lot better in recent weeks, but we were concerned she might not be well enough to go to the hearings.”

“The health issues your brother mentioned,” I recalled.

She nodded. “Yeah, nobody wanted to broadcast the pregnancy, for some odd reason.” She smiled up at Kevin. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without Kevin.”

He smiled at her, grimaced at me, and left.

I looked at her. She looked happy for the first time since I had seen her. “You should probably go, too,” she decided. “I can guarantee you it’s only a matter of minutes before Sam comes up here and tries to kick you out. He was not happy when I told him that you were coming this morning.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“No,” she acknowledged, “but my opinions don’t really matter too much around here.” She flattened herself against the pillows. “Besides, I need some time to myself. I may even bathe, who knows?”

I wanted to talk to her about everything, and she was frustrating me. “You know, you’re driving me insane.”

“This whole thing is crazy,” she agreed. “I am sorry about that, though. I know I can be a bit of a challenge. Still, cheer up. I think I’m in a worse situation than you. I mean, I know darn well that you wouldn’t even have any interest in me if I wasn’t pregnant. I have to deal with that.”

“Anabel—”

“No!” she insisted. “I can’t do this with you, this is—”

“I don’t want to talk about how absurd this is. We could go around for hours doing that. I just want to tell you I’m on your side, okay? Stop treating me like the enemy. Unless you haven’t forgiven me, in which case—”

“I forgave you a long time ago,” she cut me off. “So don’t do this. We’re on the same team right now. We want what’s best for the baby, right?”

“Right,” I said, confused.

“Well then, I’ll see you later.” A yawn escaped her lips. “I’m so tired. I was up late last night writing about my hatred for you in haiku form.”

I couldn’t believe this. “You were not.”

“Was too,” she countered. “Jared Sorensen / Knocked me up, now I can’t sleep / baby hurts my back.” She gave me a grin. “It helps that your name is five syllables.”

“You are the most ridiculous person I have ever met.”

“I have no doubt,” she chuckled. “Now go away. You can come over tomorrow if you want. I’m going to read a book today.” She picked up a copy of The Historian.

“That’s a long book to read in one day, Anabel.”

“Well then, I had better get started.” She smiled. “Goodbye. Please don’t talk to anyone on your way out. It makes my life easier.” She looked thoughtful. “Come around two tomorrow. We’ll talk shop for Monday.” Anabel buried her nose in her book, and I knew I had been dismissed.

When I walked into the hallway I was met with three angry faces: Kevin, Sam, and Alexis. Not wanting to deal with this, I announced, “I’m not allowed to talk to any of you, so I will see you tomorrow afternoon, per Anabel’s request.” They all gaped at me, and I let myself out.

I could at least keep my word to her in that respect.

Later, I met Meghan at the Starbucks by the National Gallery of Art. As I had feared, she had a copy of the Post. I sat down, and by way of greeting she thrust it in my face.

“I already saw it.”

Meghan stared at me. “You are a nightmare, you know that?” She straightened her glasses. “I’m also more than a little grossed out, Jared. She’s nineteen. NINETEEN!”

“She’s almost twenty,” I offered.

Meghan glared at me frostily.

“You look tired, Meg,” I observed, hoping I could steer the conversation away from me.

“Of course I do,” she scoffed. “I work eighty hours a week. My weekends are spent preparing for trial. Plus, I’m your sister, God help me, which is a full-time position on its own.”

“I don’t want to do this with you.” This was a mistake.

“Well, too bad!” She sat back in her chair. “Buy me a latte and then we are going to discuss this, mister. Light whip.”

When I returned with the drinks, she got right down to business. “So I’m going to be an aunt, huh?”

“Before you even start,” I warned, “I’ve already been dealt several severe blows to my ego not only by our esteemed mother, but Miss Martin herself this morning. Mom felt the need to point out that when Anabel was in diapers, I was going through puberty, and then proceeded to lecture me on the state of my soul. And you and I both know how Mom feels about the state of my soul.” Meghan grunted, so I continued. “When I arrived at Blair House I was screamed at by Alexis and nearly jumped by Anabel’s doctor—who, in case you were wondering, was that inmate that Sam pardoned—and speaking of Sam, I think that if I hadn’t gotten out of there so quickly, he would’ve slugged me. Now, as for Anabel, she has put her absolute disgust of me into poetry. It wasn’t bad, really, but does nothing for the old self-esteem.”

“How’s Alexis looking?” she asked sharply.

I shrugged. “Same as usual. Gorgeous.”

My sister snorted. “You always had a problem with her.”

“No, she always had a problem with me. I told you, it wasn’t like that. She was my best friend’s wife.”

“And what was Anabel?”

I ignored this. “She really hates Anabel, though, that’s pretty apparent.”

“I can’t believe you got the little floozy pregnant.”

“She is a lot of things, but floozy isn’t one of them.”

“Oh please,” she rolled her eyes, gesticulating toward the paper. “She just busts out with, hey, got a bun in the oven? In front of everyone? Embarrassing not only herself, but you, and her poor brother.” Meghan shook her head. “She is clearly unwell. She’s kind of pretty, but that’s really all she has going for her, except for the damsel in distress complex. You always liked to date those girls who needed rescuing, and this one definitely needs to be saved from herself.”

“Meghan,” I began, “she’s been through a lot. She lost her father, and—”

“And she’s a nut job! Who’s to say that she didn’t kill Jonathan Martin?” Meghan proclaimed. Some of the patrons of the coffee shop were starting to stare.

“Lower your voice,” I ordered her. “She didn’t kill Jonathan.”

Meghan leaned across the table. “Jared, you are my brother, and I love you. So I want you to think long and hard about what you’re doing right now.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

She looked at me, her expression softening. “Look, I have friends who are in those hearings. Everyone knows you’re hung up on her, and I am sure it makes it much worse for you to know that you got her pregnant. You’re concerned about her, but because she’s playing hard to get, you’re obsessed. I get it! But she’s just some kid you had a little fun with. And hey,” she continued, ignoring my protests, “I know you, and unlike everyone else, I know that there is—while extremely hidden—a kind, decent side to Jared Sorensen. However, from what I hear, Anabel Martin wants nothing to do with you.”

I shook my head. “Well, she told me she wants me in our kid’s life,” I began.

“But what about hers?”

I looked away. “She doesn’t know.”

Meghan nodded her head. “Of course she doesn’t. Because she’s just a kid.” She reached across the table and patted my hand. “I just want you to be prepared. She could change her mind. I mean, she’s not a normal person. She spent the last seventeen years of her life trapped on an island with no one her own age, a father with some incredible control issues, and she just latched onto you. At some point, though, she’s going to discover that there are billions of other people in this world, and—”