The Family You Choose (31 page)

"My fantasies weren’t that graphic when I was
younger. It probably wouldn’t have mattered too much. And besides,
I don’t think you were inexperienced for too long."

He shrugged. "Just wanted to make sure I
could take advantage of any opportunities that arose."

He smiled as if he were joking, but there was
something about his look that made Miranda pull away. She got up
and turned to throw away the bagel wrappers. "So are you going to
get those Sox tickets or not?" She was trying to laugh, but her
hands were shaking.

He hugged her from behind. "Don’t turn
away."

His hands burned on her skin. He still made
her heart race at the strangest times. She closed her eyes. "I
can’t change the past. I wish I could—believe me, in so many
ways—but I can’t. You can’t." She turned around. He kissed her and
she felt her legs begin to tremble. She pulled back. "Is it enough
that I love you now and I want you for later, or not?"

He smiled sadly. "It’s everything, darling.
It always was." For a split second, Miranda thought she understood.
But then he kissed her again, and she stopped thinking.

On Monday evening, Miranda jumped into
Michael’s arms when he came home. It was then that she noticed that
Michael’s eyes were red. "What’s wrong?"

"I have to go away tomorrow morning," he said
miserably. "They’re sending me to the west coast for two days."

Miranda held her breath. "And?"

"And...I have to go. Isn’t that bad
enough?"

Miranda hugged him. "But it’s not for that
long," she said, rubbing his face. "And then you’re coming
back."

"No, forget it!" he said, throwing his jacket
off. "I’m giving them my resignation tomorrow."

She couldn’t stop laughing. "Are you serious?
You will do no such thing. Quit when you come back."

"We don’t need the money."

"No, but I think it’s good for you to have
something to do."

"So I’ll start a charity. I’ll have Richard
give me something to do. I’ll start working out."

"I don’t know why I’m having trouble
picturing that."

"This isn’t funny!"

She took his hand. "It is funny that you’re
so upset. Don’t you know I’ll be here when you get back?"

"Come with me."

"I haven’t gotten my all-clear from the
doctor yet. I don’t think you want me hobbling around with
you."

"I’ll take you any way I can have you."

She put her arms around his neck. "How about
we make a deal that you can do just that when you get home if you
go like a big boy?"

He smiled, but tears streamed down his face.
He kissed her hands. "Will you just promise me that you’ll be here
when I get back?"

She kissed his eyelids. "I’ll be here, my
darling. I’ll always wait for you."

They didn’t sleep at all, and only with much
prodding did Michael leave their bed so he could be ready for his
flight. "You’re not going to go away?" Michael said as he left
their bedroom and held her hands.

"I’m not going anywhere."

They got to the door. She kissed him as he
leaned on the wall. "And you’ll call me?" he said.

"I’ll even text you."

"Will you send me a picture or two?"

"Don’t push it."

"And you’ll be here?"

"I’ll be here." She fought her tears as she
realized he really was leaving. "You’d better get out of here, Mr.
Abbot."

"Whatever you say, Mrs. Abbot." He kissed her
one last time. She watched him walk away and closed the door behind
him. She touched the spot where he had been and closed her eyes.
She cried all the tears she’d held onto last night and that
morning, then took a deep breath. She’d find things to keep her
busy for the next two days, and then he’d be home with her.

The phone rang in Alex’s study early Monday
morning. He knew who it was and picked it up without saying hello.
He listened and hung up twenty seconds later, then dialed another
number.

"Because I need to see her. I wouldn’t be
calling if there was another way. She won’t take my calls. She
doesn’t understand what she’s dealing with. It’s delicate. Damn it,
this is not a request. I want to see her at twelve, and you know
where. Just make it happen!" He slammed down the phone. He took a
deep breath to compose himself. He fingered the two envelopes on
his desk. One he’d had for quite a few years, the other he’d gotten
only the last week. It had killed him to wait this long. But
everything had to be just right or it wasn’t going to work.

~~~

It had only been in the last two weeks that
Emily had been able to tolerate food. The meds had stopped her from
throwing up, but it hadn’t stopped the intense nausea. She could
drink, but food, and the nausea it generated, had made her feel
choked. Now she could eat, and she gratefully accepted when
Professor Hazlett had asked her to join her for lunch today in the
faculty lounge.

At twelve-ten, Professor Hazlett still hadn’t
arrived. Emily assumed that she had to attend to a problem with a
student and would be by soon. She could wait to eat, but her juice
was calling to her. She had just bent over to sip her juice when a
shadow fell across the table. She looked up. But it wasn’t
Professor Hazlett.

"Hello, Emily. It’s good to see you. Sorry
I’m late."

Emily could not believe her eyes. She was at
a loss for words as Alex Sheldon pulled back the chair across from
her.

"What are you doing here?" she finally
managed.

"I see. Sorry. I thought Joanna would have
handled this a little better. But I guess that’s my fault. I made
it clear I needed to see you; I left it up to her as to how."

She might be sick again. "I think everyone
knows how I feel about you, Mr. Sheldon. I think you know how I
feel about you. I can’t believe you’d think she could get me here
any way but through a lie."

"Call me Alex."

"Alright, Alex," she said, leaning forward.
"I don’t know what kind of a sick little game you’re playing now,
but you’ll have to find someone else to do it with."

"I’m sorry. You’re the only one that’s going
to work."

Emily smiled despite herself. "And why is
that?"

"I need to get something to Miranda," he said
simply, and Emily thought she saw the coldness in his eyes melt a
bit when he said her name.

"I haven’t spoken to Miranda since...since
she married Michael." It was still so hard to say.

"I know."

"I bet you do. And I know that you haven’t
spoken to her since before that blessed occasion."

"Actually, that’s not true. I did get to
speak to her for a few minutes. Unfortunately, Michael cut our
conversation short with a right jab to my jaw."

"Pity. Although I guess that gets you back
for the concussion Zainab told me you gave him."

"I thought you’d applaud me for that."

"I might have if you had done that years ago,
before he had a chance to get to Miranda."

Alex narrowed his eyes. "Anything else you
need to say to me before I go on?"

"Sure. You’re a really cold bastard, but you
already know that. Michael’s a pig, but what you did was without
any doubt worse. If she’s with Michael, if you can’t talk to her,
if her friends can’t talk to her, then it’s all on you."

"I know that. I am trying to fix it."

Emily shook her head, completely unconvinced.
"Some things...you can’t fix."

"I have to fix this. And I can, very quickly,
if you help me."

"Why me again?"

"Jessie is still...incapacitated."

Emily raised one eyebrow. "And Zainab? Zainab
who still talks to Miranda?"

"Zainab, from everything I’ve seen, doesn’t
share my disapproval of their marriage."

"When you say it like that, Alex, you almost
make me want to give Michael a chance."

"Almost, but not quite?"

"We’ll see. And tell me again, how long
exactly have you and Professor Hazlett been friends?"

"Joanna and I go way back." He sighed. "You
really don’t know, do you? The grant she’s been paying you with is
overseen by my foundation."

Emily sat straighter. She blinked, just for a
second. Of course. "I quit. And before you start making strange
insinuations about back pay, I don’t owe you one thing. Whatever
you thought you had on me, you don’t."

"Tell me, my dear, how is your husband doing
in school?"

Emily relaxed. He was everything she’d always
expected him to be. "My husband is doing very well. If he should
suddenly start failing classes, it’s going to look arbitrary. One
might even say capricious. Go ahead and threaten his job prospects,
but that’s the long game, and I’m not sure you’re actually that
patient."

"You’d be surprised."

She smiled. "There’s so little you could do
that would surprise me. Oh, and before you start making inquiries
about my mother, she’s actually been trying to leave for quite some
time. Would you like to arrange for her to be laid off? Now that
I’ve got my degree, I think she’d almost be relieved." Emily nodded
as if she remembered something. "Oh, right. My degree. Are you
going to retroactively take that away from me? Because we can just
drive to my mother’s house and I’ll give it to you."

"Are you done yet?"

"I think that’s all. But know this: if you do
any of those things to me or my husband or my mother or anyone else
I know, I will tell anyone who asks me. And I’m afraid I can’t be
responsible for who among those people might talk. And who knows
whom they might talk to?"

"You’ve made your point."

"And yet, you’re still here."

"I need you to give something to
Miranda."

"And why would I want to do that?"

"Because it will get her away from Michael,
and I think if you have to choose, you hate Michael more than you
hate me."

"Don’t be so sure."

Alex leaned forward. Emily didn’t move. He
smiled. "And I think you love Miranda more than you hate either of
us, and you want what’s best for her."

"Yes," Emily said slowly, "but perhaps you’ll
understand if I don’t believe you’re a good judge of that."

Alex searched through Emily’s eyes. She
didn’t budge. "Fine," he said, not taking his eyes off of her.
"I’ll show you."

He put the two envelopes on the table and
slid them over to her. "I’m trusting you, Emily. I’m trusting you
to do the right thing, and I’m trusting you to keep this
quiet."

Emily waited a moment before opening the
first, large envelope. It looked like a bank statement, with dates,
numbers and dollar values. She flipped through the pages until she
got to the final value and a named beneficiary. Her eyes popped
out. "Jesus!" she said despite herself.

Alex closed his eyes. "That’s not the
important one."

"The other one is worth more?" Emily said
incredulously.

"The other one is worth everything."

Emily couldn’t help it. She opened the
smaller envelope. It was a small piece of paper that took her less
than ten seconds to read but she didn’t look up for a minute. She
needed to read it again and again to make sure that she got it
right.

"You son of a bitch!" she shouted so loudly
that everyone in the faculty center turned to look at her. She knew
and she didn’t care. "Bastard! I hope there’s a Hell so you can
burn for this!"

"I know you’ve had a difficult pregnancy this
far. I don’t think it’s good for you or your child to get so upset
right now."

"Your concern for children is
well-documented," she said, shaking the paper. "You...how do you
live with yourself?!?"

"Not well at all," he said, and for the first
time that day, Emily believed he was telling the truth. "Not well
for the last seventeen years, and really badly for the last four
months."

"Why not just mail it?" Emily said, tears
coming to her eyes.

"What if Michael saw it first?"

"Why not call her, email—why not tell her to
her face, you sniveling coward?"

"Think whatever you want about me. But now do
you understand why I need to get this to her as soon as
possible?"

She knew she was being played, but it didn’t
matter anymore. "Yes," she said, shaking. "I’ll do it."

"You have until tomorrow night."

"What happens tomorrow night?"

"Michael is coming back from his business
trip." She was about to ask how he knew, but she answered herself
before she needed to.

"You bastard," she said, then walked out of
the faculty center.

Emily called Miranda as soon as she got to
her little study room in library.

"Oh my God!" Miranda exclaimed. Emily did her
best not to cry. "Emily, Emily. I never thought I’d hear from you
again!"

Emily sniffled. She had missed her friend so
much. She wished she had called before now. "Miranda, I really need
to see you."

"Oh God, Emily, is everything okay? Is it
Mitch? Is it the baby?"

"It’s...just me. It’s just me and you. I
really need to see you. When can I see you, please?"

"How about lunch tomorrow? My treat—anywhere
you want."

Emily swallowed her tears. "No, it’ll be my
treat. You name the place."

~~~

Later on Monday afternoon, Miranda received a
clean bill of health from her doctor. He didn’t want her to run or
jog until she’d gone through physical therapy, but she was fine to
walk without her cane or bandages. Finally walking, she texted
Michael.
Really? Where are you now?
Walking home.
What r
u wearing?
Jeans and the pink shirt you gave me.
Did I ever
tell u how sexy you look in that? Is anybody checking u out?
Ur
being creepy and stupid now. What r u wearing?
Same as always
but with the blue tie you got me.
I love when you wear ties.
All I can do is think how much I want to untie them and unbutton ur
shirt.
If u don’t stop, I’m getting on next plane home.
I’ll
stop for now.
I’ll call you tonight.
I’ll wait up.