The China Doll (18 page)

"You have every reason to be upset with me,
but please give me a chance to explain. Not now, but maybe tomorrow
night."

"Tomorrow night? What’s tomorrow night?"

"
Camelot
."

She really was tired. "Alex, I don’t know if
it’s a good idea at this point."

"Please, don’t make any decision now. Just
think about it tomorrow, and I’ll call you in the afternoon."

"Fine."

"Sleep well, my love." Then he hung up.
Miranda stared at the ceiling again, but before she could torment
herself, she remembered seeing Michael that morning. She smiled
despite herself and fell back asleep.

~~~

Miranda woke up early. Unable to get back to
sleep, she decided that she’d hit the gym. It was too early for a
class, but she could probably jump on one of the cardio
machines.

She found a treadmill and ran for an hour.
She hated running, but it felt good to get some of the craziness
out of her system. It was nice for an hour to not think about Alex
or Michael or Richard or that creep Robert. But she couldn’t stop
thinking of her girlfriends.

She got off the treadmill and walked up the
stairs to the stretching area. She lunged.
Oh God—so tight
.
She envied Emily’s natural flexibility, especially now. She hissed
as she felt her hip flexor release. She switched sides, then sat
back on her heel to stretch her hamstring.

"Hmm, I can see how that might be
useful."

Miranda lost her balance and fell over. She
didn’t need to look up to know who it was. "Jesus!" she said as she
tried to rearrange her limbs.

Michael smiled at her like he was undressing
her. Her heart beat fast again. He held out his hand. "Did I not
mention that I joined this gym?"

She grabbed his hand and let him pull her up.
He was sweating and a little red. He was wearing a tank top and
shorts. His arms and legs looked very muscular. "What a
coincidence," she said, grabbing her hands behind her and arching
back.

He moved behind her and eased her back up.
"Sit down," he said.

"Excuse me?"

"I need to stretch too. You can help."

"Fine."

He smiled, then lay down on the floor and
lifted one of his legs. "You have to push my leg in to me." He took
her hands and put them either side of his thigh. "Yeah, just keep
your hands there. But maybe move in a little closer."

She knew she was blushing. "Did you just
start working out?"

"Nope. This was part of rehab, believe it or
not."

He switched legs, but this time he put her
hands a little lower. She glared but didn’t move. "Who knew you’d
be willing to put in all this hard work?"

He sat up and came nose to nose with her.
"You of all people should know how hard I can work when I’m
motivated." He moved so close that their lips were almost touching.
He smiled. "And what do you know? I guess I like being in fighting
form."

"Fighting?" She pulled back, then pushed him
over. "You jerk! You’re the one who was hogging the sparring room
last week!"

He rolled up. "That was me," he said in a
sing song voice. "I don’t know—should I have let you in?"

"Yeah—then I could have beaten you up for
following me."

"Hey, this is my usual gym time. What are you
doing here now? How do I know that you’re not the one following me
this time?"

"Oh yeah, you caught me," she said, rolling
her eyes.

"Did I?" he asked, taking her hand. Her skin
tingled. "What do I get to do with you now?"

"Why do you keep doing this when you know I
can’t give you a different answer?"

"Because your arguments are so
unconvincing."

"Maybe I should just send Jessie or Richard
or Emily to say it for me."

"Even worse, because I don’t care what any of
them think."

"Fine. Then I’ll try one more time. We have
the same grandfather. We are cousins. We can’t do this."

"See, as I recall, we did it pretty well. And
lightning didn’t strike us. Maybe that big guy had better things to
do with his time then get in the way of two people who are madly in
love with each other."

"Yes—it’s madness."

"It’s legal."

"That doesn’t make it safe."

"You used to like riding the edge a little
bit."

"And then I fell off, and it hurt."

"But I’m not going to hurt you."

"You did once, remember?"

He rested his hand on hers. "Is that what
this is about?"

Miranda’s eyes welled up. "No." It was the
truth. "But you’re capable, just as I am of hurting you. And I
don’t want to hurt you."

He tightened his grip. "Then don’t."

She sprang up. "I’m late for work," she said
as she ran down the stairs. She showered and dressed quickly, then
ran into the elevator before Michael could catch her. She dialed
Alex’s number. "Alex, I’ve decided. I really do want to see
Camelot
tonight. What time should I meet you?" She got off
the elevator and ran out into the street before Michael could have
a chance to find her. Then she dialed Doctor Wolfe’s number. "I was
wondering if Doctor Wolfe had any time today?"

"Emily, please let me come home tonight,"
Mitch pleaded on the phone before he left for work that morning. "I
want to talk."

"Great—what time would you like to do that?
Because I’m afraid I can’t stay up until twelve waiting for you to
grace us with your presence. Actually, maybe I can, I just don’t
want to."

"Any time after you get out of work. Over
dinner—"

"Wow! That sounds like an actual date, you
know those things that real married couples do? That thing I begged
you to do with me. But since you thought it would be so much more
fun to jerk off over your emails from your mistress, don’t let me
steal you away."

"Emily, she’s not my mistress!"

"Oh really? Great, then why don’t you forward
all the emails over to me?" Pause. "Yeah, I didn’t think so."

"Emily please, I’m so sorry. Please don’t
shut me out. Please don’t take our little girl away from me—"

"Right, because you spent so much quality
time with her as it was. You never even saw her during her waking
hours."

"So I miss seeing her sleep. I miss giving
her a goodnight kiss and tucking the covers around her."

"Well, I’ll take a picture and send it to
you, then. But you’ll excuse me, I really have to get to work now."
Emily hung up, and Mitch held the phone to his heart and hit his
head back on the wall.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid."

"Yeah, that sounds about right," Martin said
as he poured himself a cup of coffee. He had been listening to the
whole thing. "What the Hell were you thinking?"

"I’m an idiot, okay? Have you not known that
all these years?"

Martin sipped his coffee. "I guess I didn’t
think it was a permanent condition. Especially since you managed to
snag yourself such a smart—and hot—little wife. You know, why go
looking for more if you had that at home?"

"First of all, don’t talk about my wife being
hot—"

"Yeah, I can stop. But what about everyone
else, now that she’s available?"

"She’s not available. And second of all, I
didn’t go looking for anything. Kyra found me."

"How?"

"She did a search for me and found me on the
new hires page of my firm."

"Ah," Martin said, rubbing his cup. "Who knew
that girl could be so resourceful?"

"Martin, her life’s a mess, alright? What
else is new? I felt sorry for her, so I wrote back. And then she
wrote back. And then we kept going back and forth." He rubbed his
temples. "And then it started getting a little suggestive, and then
it started getting explicit."

"What is wrong with you?"

"It’s just email—it’s just words."

"So why not send those words to your
wife?"

"Because she’s always so mad at me!" Mitch
said in frustration. "I wasn’t there enough when she was pregnant,
I didn’t help enough with Hellie. We never did enough together. She
never understood that I was working so hard so we didn’t have to be
in that tiny little studio I never should have moved us into. She
didn’t care that I was exhausted and stretched and was doing
everything for her and Hellie. And I was mad too."

"So you deserved an affair?"

"It wasn’t an affair!"

"Yeah, okay, if you say so. So you wouldn’t
mind if she did the same thing with some ex of hers?"

"She hates all of them."

"So can I send her some hot emails?" Mitch
glared. "Or maybe Richard? I mean, sounds like he’s sort of on the
market now, and so is she—"

"She is not on the market or otherwise
available! She is my wife, and don’t go sending her anything."

"And it’s not okay why?"

"Because I know nothing’s going to happen if
I get some stupid email!"

"Or if you send it back." Martin took a deep
breath. "Dude, do you not remember how long it took for you to even
get to talk to her after you got back from Ireland? Do you remember
how hard you had to work to get a real date with her? Didn’t she
tell you off after she found you with Kyra?"

"Why do you think I married her so
quickly?"

"This is a smart, jealous woman. What were
you thinking? If you don’t want to be married anymore, why don’t
you just get to the point and ask for a divorce?"

"I don’t want a divorce, Martin!"

"Then maybe you should act like you want what
you have, or that you have what you want."

"Thanks Doctor Phil—any other words of wisdom
to fix my life?"

Martin slammed his mug down, splashing coffee
on the counter. "For God’s sake, Mitch! Get some perspective and
stop whining. Your wife kicked you out because you were virtually
cheating, whether you want to admit it or not. And Richard lost his
girlfriend, and Miranda’s weird ex-husband has been skulking around
Boston. Oh, yeah—some rich woman had a closeted affair with your
wife’s old boss, and Mister Moneybags is a blackmailing pimp. Big
God damned deal! Jessie is the one who found out through some
pig—older than me—that her mother died a horrible death. You can
fix your stupid messes—every single one of you sniveling brats—but
she can’t. And just so we’re clear, all of you also caused your own
problems."

Mitch tried not to laugh. Martin wasn’t given
to outbursts. And he was right. "Why don’t you call her?"

"Speaking of causing your own problems…I’m
sure she’d just love to hear from me now too."

Mitch didn’t have a definite answer. It could
probably go either way. "Jessie could probably use a friend right
now."

"I wouldn’t want her to think...I don’t know
what to do." He wiped up the coffee on the counter. "But let me
tell you, I’d better not ever see that cop."

~~~

Jessie arrived at Doctor Wolfe’s office at
ten. It was usually the time that she would be sitting in Professor
Hazlett’s class, but she was pretty sure she wouldn’t be going back
there.

She sat on the couch, kicking her legs back
and forth. She looked at Doctor Wolfe’s longish ash blond hair and
overly smooth face. There was something about him that usually
annoyed her, but this morning she found him half-comforting.

"So why don’t you tell me what happened two
nights ago?"

"Short version? The TA I was so proud of
myself for scoring was really a cop, the aunt I thought was just a
cold inattentive bitch is really a self-hating lesbian and the one
person I have always been able to count on has been stepping out on
his saint of a girlfriend. Then there was just fun stuff about
Mitch cheating on Emily—but he’s such a loser he can’t even do that
for real—and, oh yeah, that creep Alex Sheldon blackmailing my aunt
into marrying Richard’s father. After he found out from my beloved
father, who first blackmailed my current professor into bed. Oh,
right—how did I forget this part? Looks like my mom is the one who
killed my dad, but only because he was beating her and then me. But
of course my mother’s killer remains at large."

Doctor Wolfe shook his head as he scribbled.
"I’m sorry, I just want to understand. Your father told this Alex
person about your aunt and your professor, slept with your
professor, married your mother, and abused her and you?"

"No, I’m sorry—one more thing. He also raped
my mother on their first date, which wasn’t supposed to be a date.
And nine months later—voila—me."

Doctor Wolfe raised his eyebrows. It was the
first time she’d ever seen him betray any emotion. "And how do you
know that any of this is true?"

"Because Richard wouldn’t lie to me," she
said with some annoyance. "He saw my mother and me. Right before my
father died. He said we’d been beaten up pretty badly. He hid me
while my parents were away, and by the end of the weekend my father
was dead."

"How old was your cousin at that time?"

"Twelve."

"And you’re sure he—Richard—remembers it
accurately?"

"Richard doesn’t generally talk out of his
ass, if you’ll excuse me."

"But Richard isn’t always truthful, is he?
Didn’t you just say he was cheating on his girlfriend?"

"That’s different."

"Did she know? Did they have some kind of
arrangement?"

"No, she’s not like that."

"So how do you know he isn’t lying to you
also?"

"Because it’s a different kind of a lie."

"Where did you pick that up?"

"Richard is not lying to me, Doctor
Wolfe!"

"All right. We’ll leave that alone for now."
He scribbled something else in his notes. Now she was annoyed. "And
how do you know that this part about what your professor said is
true?"

"Because Alex didn’t deny it."

"Is this Alex an honest person?"

"He’s a lying scumbag. I have no idea—none
whatsoever—what Miranda sees in him."

"Miranda Harel?"