Triple Love Score

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Triple Love Score Page 12

by Brandi Megan Granett


  Omar’s voice sounded in the background. “See,” he said. “I told you. I love you. I’m sorry about my family. But please, Dani, none of that matters now.”

  “See, Dani, none of that matters now. Omar is right. It’s going to take a bit of time for me to get to you. It’s a long flight, but I will see how soon I can get there. When is the wedding?”

  “I’m waiting for you. As soon as you can get here, we will have the ceremony.”

  “I will try. Let me go, so I can start calling airlines.”

  Miranda slipped the phone back into her pocket and turned to go back to the dining room. Avery would have a travel agent or some assistant who could help. She would need to go home to New York first, then drive down to JFK to fly out. Maybe there is a direct flight to Istanbul. So lost in her thoughts, Miranda didn’t notice Scott waiting in the doorway to the dining room. She walked straight into his chest. Instead of pulling away, she started to cry.

  “What? What?” Scott said. “What did that guy send you now?”

  Miranda could scarcely catch her breath. “It’s not him. Danielle. Dani. My friend. You know her. She teaches English in Turkey. She’s getting married this week, and she just asked me to go. I have to fly to Turkey.” She kept crying, not caring about the snot running down her face.

  “Randa, this isn’t making sense. Why are you crying? A surprise wedding is a good thing. A trip is nice. What else is it?”

  “There’s something wrong with her, some growth, and the doctor said she can’t travel and needs treatment. She asked me to come.”

  Scott took Miranda by the shoulder and looked into her eyes. “Is it cancer?” he asked.

  Hearing the word she learned to avoid made it even harder to stop crying. “I don’t know,” she blubbered out.

  Scott ran up the hall and returned with a box of tissues from the den. “What are you going to do?” he asked.

  “I need a flight to Istanbul, but first I need to go home and get my passport.”

  “Do you want me to go with you?”

  “To New York?”

  “To Istanbul.”

  Miranda couldn’t say anything at first.

  Lynn’s voice carried into the hall from the den. “Grandpa, you landed on red, so you get the red earrings to wear not the purple.”

  “You can’t. You have Lynn,” Miranda said.

  “Lynn is going skiing with my parents. Let me come with you. I don’t want you to face that alone.”

  It wasn’t until they were on the interstate the next morning that she remembered Ronan. And actually she didn’t remember him. Scott did. “How’s the big fella going to take to this?” he asked. He drummed his fingertips on the steering wheel in time to some top-forty song that came in on the radio. He hummed and swiveled his head from side to side, checking the rearview mirror.

  Miranda watched him trying to be nonchalant about the question; it quelled her own minor panic about that thought. Ronan. He would be leaving in two days, and there would be no time for her to say goodbye. No more time for her and Ronan at all. She scanned her body for a twinge of regret. Of something. But nothing surfaced. Scott accelerated around a slow-moving truck. She watched the tension in the muscle on the top of his thigh tighten and then ease as he changed lanes again. The car just glided forward, a rocket over the highway.

  “I don’t know. He’s leaving in two days anyway. I’ll call him when we get to my place. I’ll tell him what happened. He’ll understand.” She pulled out her phone and scanned the naughty stream of texts he had sent her over the weekend. Each one more strongly worded than the last. Merry Christmas was her only reply. After everything with Danielle, Miranda lost her appetite for Ronan. It’s like her time with Ronan happened, only it was a very long, long time ago, like a memory of something you read in a book.

  Inside her apartment, the cheery Christmas tree waited. Half empty wine glasses stood like sentries on every flat surface in the apartment. The sheets were still tangled across the unmade bed. “Sorry about the mess,” she said, knowing exactly what it looked like. Her cheeks burned.

  “No, it’s fine. Nice place. You work close by?”

  “Just two blocks that way.” She pointed out the front window with a wine glass in her hand. She gathered a few up and put them in the kitchen sink. “I just need to get my passport and pack some clothes, okay? Make yourself comfortable.”

  Scott sat uneasily down on the sofa and picked at the Scrabble board left on the coffee table. “A poem sculpture?”

  Miranda remembered it. Her cheeks burned again. “Ambrose asked for valentines.”

  “Oh,” Scott said. “That would make for a good Valentine’s day. Or is that night?”

  Her cheeks got worse.

  “It’s okay, Miranda. Nothing I haven’t seen. Or rather done before.”

  “I’ll just be a minute,” she said, slipping into her bedroom and closing the door. After getting her breath back, she slipped her phone out of her pocket and dialed Ronan.

  “You’re back early,” he said.

  “Yes and no,” she said. “I’m leaving.” She explained to him about Danielle and Turkey.

  “But I won’t see you?”

  “No, Ronan. I have to go.”

  “I can change my ticket. I’ll go with you.”

  Outside, snow began to fall. If they didn’t start back soon, the roads would be a mess. “No that’s okay. I’m fine. Really. I’m fine. You need to get back.”

  “I’ve been gone for three years. I don’t need to go anywhere. Don’t be like this. You’re at the apartment? I’m coming over.”

  “Ronan, don’t come over. Please don’t come over.”

  “None of that now. You are being silly. I miss you. We only have a little bit of time, Miranda. We shouldn’t spend that in a silly conversation.”

  She could hear him tugging on his coat and pulling the door shut to his apartment. She massaged her temples. “Ronan, don’t come. Scott’s here.”

  “Scott? The one from Thanksgiving?”

  “Yes.”

  “You leave me for two days and come back with the one from Thanksgiving? What is going on here? I am coming over. This can’t happen like this, Miranda. We were supposed to have these days. I love you. I thought you felt the same. Or at least you were starting to feel the same.”

  “It’s not like that, Ronan. Please don’t come. I am leaving as soon as I pack. I need to go to Danielle. She is like a sister to me. Please don’t do this.”

  “Don’t do what, Miranda? Don’t be in love with you? After the last few weeks, what did you think I was playing at?”

  “But you already had your plane tickets. What were you playing at?”

  “I thought it would change things. I thought leaving wouldn’t matter. I could come back.”

  “But you never mentioned that. You always said this was all it was. Just a few weeks.”

  “But what if we stayed together? Wouldn’t you want me to come back? Wouldn’t you want to be together?”

  “Ronan, I never looked at it like that. You said you were leaving. I believed you.”

  “I also told you I loved you, Miranda. Didn’t you believe that?”

  “People always say that. They don’t mean it. It doesn’t stop them from leaving.” She could feel her voice getting louder.

  “Randa?” Scott knocked on the door. “You okay?”

  “I’m okay,” she said, “just packing.”

  “What’s that? You’re okay? Are you talking to him? You can’t even talk to just one of us at a time? Maybe I was wrong about you, Miranda. I never expected you would be the type to use a person like this. And not just any person. A student.”

  “A student? Ronan, it’s not like that. You know it. You said so yourself.”

  “What’s it like then?”

  “It’s like … nothing.”

  “Miranda, nothing doesn’t hurt like this. I love you. Please tell him to go and let me go with you. We can forget these two day
s and just go on. Can’t we do that?”

  “Ronan, I don’t want to forget these two days any more than I want to forget the last few weeks. Right now I just want to get to my friend. This isn’t about you and me. I need to go. Be fair. Your plane is in three days. Don’t do this.”

  “Too late, Miranda. We already happened. Good luck on your trip.”

  Then the phone went dead. She held it in her hand, staring at it. She saw her tears bubble up on the screen before she realized she was crying. She hadn’t heard herself crying either, but Scott did. He opened the door to the bedroom and wrapped his arms around her.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “You’re okay here.”

  “It doesn’t feel okay, Scott. He was upset.”

  “But how do you feel?”

  Miranda paused at the question. Feel? She never really considered it.

  “Don’t wrinkle your forehead. Just stop and check in with yourself. How do you feel?”

  “Check in with yourself? When did you get replaced with a hippie? What would your old Wall Street friends say?”

  “It’s something we do with the kids. Don’t be sarcastic. Just try it, won’t you?” He stepped back.

  “Honestly?” she asked.

  “Yes, honestly. Have I ever led you astray?” He winked at her.

  “Do you want me to answer that?”

  “No, I want you to take a deep breath.”

  Miranda closed her eyes and took a deep breath. At first she felt weird, like there was an itch all over her skin. Then she took another breath. She heard Ronan’s voice in her head. But it disappeared. She remembered Scott’s hug. And Danielle’s voice on the phone. How did all that make her feel, though? Resolved, she thought. She felt resolved. There were steps to be taken and a plane to catch. Scott. Ronan. They didn’t matter, at least not at this moment.

  After a minute or two, Scott asked, “How do you feel?”

  She considered his question before answering, scanning her thoughts a few more times. “Fine,” she finally said. “I feel really fine. Let’s do this.”

  “Good answer,” Scott said. “Where’s your suitcase?”

  C H A P T E R

  WITH THE BAGS ALL LOADED in the trunk of Miranda’s car, the three fathers stood around the driveway of Avery and Stanton’s house the next morning.

  “Looks clear to me,” Stanton said, peering at the weather app on his cell phone.

  “Airline says on time,” Linden said.

  “Looks like there’s snow in Vermont,” Scott said.

  Lynn and Miranda just stood there, bouncing a little to keep warm.

  The men did another round of comparisons.

  Miranda finally broke in. “Daddy, it’s just a short trip.”

  “Yes, yes, I know,” Stanton said. “We were just checking.”

  “I know.” Miranda straightened the lapels on his coat and kissed him on the forehead. “We will call when we land. Miss Lynn, will you escort these gentlemen back into the house?”

  “Does this mean we can go skiing sooner?”

  “Not sooner, Lynnie,” Linden said. “We can’t wake up Bunny too early, you know.”

  “Oh, Grandpa, I can. She said I was the only one allowed to. Ever. Daddy, let me hug you goodbye.”

  Scott bent and squeezed her in a big embrace. “Lynn,” Scott said, “What times do you take your vitamins?”

  Lynn fiddled with the zipper of her new pink parka.

  “Lynn,” he said again.

  “I’ll be skiing with Grandma and Grandpa all day. I’ll take them in the morning and before bed. I don’t want to do lunch ones.”

  “But you need the lunch ones.”

  “Daddy, I am fine. You heard what Grandma said. She said I was fine. She told you to relax.”

  “I can’t relax, Lynn-love, I want you to be okay. Please take them.”

  “Only if you take some, too, in Turkey.”

  “Okay,” he said. His voice brightened. “I’ll take as many as you do. And you email me every day if I don’t call first. I want pictures. And stories.”

  “Scott,” Linden said. “Me and Lynnie will be just fine. Have a good vacation. Take care of this bridesmaid. See she gets to the wedding on time.”

  The drive to JFK mercifully progressed with only the expected amounts of traffic. Despite the holiday, lines for checking in and security moved swiftly. Miranda wondered if the universe conspired to make this trip easy for them.

  “We don’t board for a least an hour,” Scott said.

  “Yup.” Miranda said.

  “A drink?” they both said together.

  They found the bar closest to their gate. The bartender stood at the other end of the bar deep in thought with his cell phone. Scott pulled out his phone and started typing out a text message; his brow furrowed in concentration. She tried to bore a hole in the bartender’s back with a stare; then she cleared her throat in another failed attempt. Nothing. Scott typed more, a furious clacking sound erupting from his phone. Two men. Two phones. No beer. Finally, Miranda hopped off her stool and walked to the end of the bar. “Are you on duty?” she asked.

  “Oh, sorry, ma’am,” the bartender said. “What can I do you for?” He tried flashing his flawless smile.

  “Scott?” Miranda asked, “A beer?”

  “Sure, anything,” he said, still not looking up from his phone.

  “Two beers,” Miranda said.

  “Sure, coming right up.”

  “Sorry about that,” Scott said.

  Miranda climbed back up on her stool.

  “I’ve never left Lynn before,” he continued.

  “Never?”

  “Never. When she was a baby, we lived in Oregon. None of my friends there knew anything about babies. Not that I would have trusted them anyway. And my parents, well, they weren’t really ready for this. Let’s say it threw them for a loop to be polite.”

  The bartender put the beers down in front of them along with the receipt. Scott slipped a twenty on the bar and the bartender walked away, going back to his phone.

  “What about Lynn’s mom?”

  “It’s complicated. Lynn’s mom disappeared right after Lynn was born. Her name is Cassadee. We met in college. We were friends. We partied.”

  “Just friends?”

  “Well, there was one night when we were more than that.”

  “That is how babies happen, right?”

  “Well, kind of. But not that time. Lynn’s not mine.”

  “Wait a minute, what? She is so yours. She even has your eyes.”

  “Not biologically. Remember that night I visited you in New York? I got the call to come to the hospital that night. I flew to Oregon immediately and rushed to the hospital. When I got there, my name was on Lynn’s birth certificate, and Cassadee refused to see the baby and me. There wasn’t anything I could do. Cassadee signed herself out in the middle of the night.”

  “She just left?”

  “Yup. She found me a few weeks later at a hotel in downtown Portland. She wanted money to score.”

  “Score what?”

  “Anything I guess. She wasn’t particular about the drugs. Or the people she did them with. When I wouldn’t give her money, she told me Lynn wasn’t mine and threatened to petition for a paternity test. She said that the real dad had overdosed two months before. She pulled out a stack of pictures. The last one was a guy in a coffin.”

  “A picture of him in the coffin?”

  “This is why I don’t talk about any of this in front of Lynn. This is why I couldn’t just explain. I don’t want to ever risk her knowing about this.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I gave her money and tried to get her to sign a sort of adoption document just in case. She took the money and never returned the paperwork. It’s been like that ever since. She asks for money; sometimes I give it to her, sometimes I don’t. I didn’t want her to mess anything up for Lynn, so I used to give in a lot. I haven’t the last few times, thoug
h.”

  “Can I ask something?” Miranda took a big swig from her beer and set it down.

  “I don’t really talk to other people about this, but with you, it’s different. So ask.”

  “What’s up with Lynn and the vitamins?”

  “She needs to take them. They’re important.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “Okay? Yes, she’s great. But Cassadee. Well, she didn’t stop using while she was pregnant.” He picks up his beer and takes a hard swallow. “She’s HIV positive.”

  “Lynn is HIV positive?”

  “Well, Cassadee is. With Lynn, it’s more complicated.”

  “Complicated? I thought it was just a blood test.”

  “It is a blood test, but her first one came back positive. Her second one came back negative. The third was negative. The fourth was inconclusive. The fifth negative.”

  “Five tests?”

  “The doctors think I’m crazy about it. They say the evidence is fine, she isn’t infected, but there’s the first test. That first test they did when she was first born, I still remember the scream she let out as they drew her blood.”

  “What about you?”

  “My tests have always been clean. It seems that Cassadee got HIV and pregnant at the same time, sometime after we had our night together. With all the drinking and drugs, she didn’t carry Lynn to full term; they told me that it was a miracle for a baby to be born so early and at such a low weight and yet have functional lungs. Even with that she had to stay in the hospital for almost a month. She was almost seven weeks early. Had I understood the math then, I would have known right away that the baby wasn’t mine; I could have been spared the coffin picture. We hooked up in July. But with Lynn being that early, Cassadee must have gotten pregnant in August or September. By the time I got there, it was too late, and Cassadee was gone. And well, Lynn was there. And—”

  “And what?”

  “You’ll think I’m crazy.”

  “Crazy? I think this was a rough spot to be in.”

  “I fell in love with her. The baby. It took two seconds. They handed her to me, and I wanted her to be mine. She was so tiny. And they kept calling her a miracle. We all did. It was the craziest thing. One minute I was working on Wall Street and drinking with friends and being everything a man from my family was supposed to be and then I was in a hospital holding a baby, a baby I suddenly loved and wanted more than anything. If Cassadee would have hung around, I probably would have proposed, made the whole thing official right then and there.”

 

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