The Family You Choose

by Deborah Nam-Krane

  "What did he do this time?"

  "Nothing unusual—he’s just being Michael. Only now..." she scoffed at herself for what she was thinking. "Only now I don’t have Jessie or Richard to share in my misery. Lucky them!"

  "I will once again introduce the concept of your own place."

  "Oh, don’t start," Miranda said wearily. "I know you don’t approve, but it’s the way it is, alright?"

  "No, it’s not. You’re miserable."

  "I could just kill Michael."

  "Yeah, well, I’ve got to assume that if you haven’t done so yet, it’s not so likely to happen now."

  "I don’t know, I think Richard might understand at this point."

  "As would I," Emily said with a smile, "but let’s try to keep you from things that might get you thrown into jail, because that slime ball isn’t worth it."

  "I can’t stand him," Miranda said, stirring her coffee.

  "Miranda, what’s up?"

  "He just—I don’t know. I feel like he’s trying to undress me with his eyes all the time."

  Emily shuddered. "Yeah, that’s pretty gross." She paused. "Miranda, did he ever-"

  "I already told you!" Miranda snapped. Emily blinked. "I’m sorry. No, no, he didn’t. Alex would have killed him."

  "And Alex wouldn’t now?"

  "Of course he would," Miranda said off-handedly, thinking of something else. "But I think he thinks I feel the same way."

  Emily laughed so hard she had to wipe her eyes. Miranda looked around, and started laughing too. "It’s crazy!"

  "Just—eww! Why would you?"

  "He’s so repulsive!"

  "Miranda..."

  "So...gross," Miranda said, half to herself. "It’s like you can’t stop looking at him."

  "Alright, that’s it." Emily rifled through her bag. "Here," she said. Before Miranda could say anything, she took two keys off her key chain and handed it to her.

  "Don’t you think your studio might get kind of cramped with the three of us in there?"

  "There is plenty of room for you at Zainab’s place."

  "But isn’t she..." No, Zainab was pretty much living at Richard’s. "Oh," she said, putting the keys into her bag.

  "Zainab won’t mind, I know. You don’t have to move in, but it’s a place to stay if you need one. And it’s just a few blocks away from me."

  "Bonus," Miranda smiled.

  "No, the real bonus is that you get to sleep in Zainab’s bed, not on the floor. Not that there was anything wrong with that," Emily said quickly, "but let’s not drop you too far from the lifestyle to which you’ve grown accustomed."

  "Thanks," Miranda said, then kicked Emily under the table.

  ~~~

  Miranda had no intention of leaving Alex’s house, but quietly, she packed a bag that night and brought it to Zainab’s to have, just in case. That made it so much easier when Michael came over the next night for dinner, unannounced as usual.

  "So, how have you two been amusing yourselves?" Michael asked after the plates had been cleared.

  Miranda, who had been trying to remember the plot of the Internet soap Jessie had hooked her on last year, looked up. Michael was clearly speaking to her. "Oh, the usual," she replied with a smile. "School, getting my requirements in order, hanging out with friends, and worrying about Jessie. You know, all the things a decent person might do, given the circumstances. Oops—maybe you don’t."

  Alex threw Miranda a look, but Michael laughed loudly. "If by decent you mean spoiled little princess living in a bubble, I guess I wouldn’t. I’m too busy living in the real world."

  "The real world?" Miranda repeated incredulously. "Now, are you talking about that show on MTV, or are you talking about the place where you have to worry about having a job and paying rent and wondering when you’re going to eat? Because, yeah, I don’t worry about those things, but neither do you. And you don’t worry about anyone else. Sometimes I pity the emptiness you must feel."

  Alex’s face clouded, but Miranda barely noticed. "You’d be surprised," Michael said in a low tone, "by what I worry about."

  Now Miranda laughed. "Do you think that after living with you for all these years anything about you would surprise me? You’d have to actually do something good and unselfish to achieve that effect."

  "So why don’t you give me some tips, you little parasite? Anyone can be generous if they have the whole world at their feet."

  "Michael!" Alex said in a warning tone, but they both ignored him.

  "Parasite? Hmm...is that a step up or down from being a piece of charity trash? I’ll tell you though; it doesn’t seem like much of an insult coming from a would-be rapist with a fetish for public hand jobs. Guess we should all be grateful you really can’t get anything right."

  "Miranda!" Alex said. Miranda didn’t flinch but turned to him.

  "Yes?"

  "I think that’s enough."

  "I get to be a parasite, but he doesn’t get to be a sex-offending loser? Who makes everyone’s life miserable?" She spat the last part in Michael’s direction.

  "I would have been happy to have left years ago," Michael hissed. "Trust me, it wasn’t your incredible wit or charm that kept me here."

  "Wow, what an insult!" Miranda lashed back. "I’m so upset I think I’m going to call everyone who ever met you so they can tell me how lucky I am, because I bet most of them would have been happy if you’d left too!"

  "Then you and everyone else should have a word with him!" Michael pointed to Alex, who stood up. Miranda had never seen his face so dark.

  "Michael, I told you we could discuss this later. This isn’t the time."

  "It’s never the time," Michael said pointedly.

  "What are you talking about?" Miranda said, then wished she hadn’t.

  "I want what’s mine," Michael said, not taking his eyes off of Alex. "I’m more than entitled at this point, don’t you think?"

  "As soon as you’re twenty-five-"

  "You’re the trustee!" Michael shouted, and Miranda jumped back. "You know as well as I do that you can change that, especially since I’m so close to turning twenty-five."

  "You have the house."

  "I want the rest of it!"

  "You have an allowance, as well as your job-"

  "Which I’m sure is really part of his allowance," Miranda muttered.

  "Shut up!"

  "No, this isn’t your house anymore! You don’t get to talk to me like that. The only one who is going to shut up is you!"

  "You get my money for me, little girl, and I’ll be happy to never speak to you again."

  "If only."

  "I’m sure you have your ways."

  "If I did, I would have gotten you out of here years ago."

  "Then I guess you’re just as useless as you ever were."

  "Yet another compliment."

  "Are you done now?" They looked at each other, then looked at Alex. "Michael, I have tried to tell you repeatedly, it isn’t what you think. You’ll never have to worry about the necessities, but-"

  "I have seen the account, so stop trying to low ball me."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "The one that you opened right after my parents died. Did you really think I wouldn’t find it? Why do you think I wanted a job at your investment firm?"

  Alex took a deep breath. "Michael, that isn’t what you think it is."

  "That account is worth millions, and I will not be cheated by you again."

  Miranda scoffed, but Alex didn’t say a word. Michael was shaking in anger. It was the first time she’d ever seen him lose control in front of Alex. "My parents, my house, my money, my life—you took all of it away from me! I can’t get my parents back, but I can have everything else. And I will, or you’re going to regret it." Without saying another word, he stood up and left.

  Miranda didn't even wait for the door to slam. "Has he lost his mind?"

  Alex had both hands on the back of his chair and stared at his glass.
"No," Alex said, shaking his head. "He just remembers things differently."

  "What did he mean about his parents?"

  "Miranda," he said at last, "sometimes getting the truth isn’t everything you think it’s going to be."

  ~~~

  Miranda endured another sleepless night. When she came down to breakfast she could see that Alex had as well. She also wasn’t at all surprised when he announced that he had to leave for a business trip that evening.

  She took a deep breath. "What time?"

  "My flight is at nine tonight. It actually works better; I’ll be getting in just in time for the meeting."

  "In New York?"

  "It’s a very large international teleconference. My favorite," he said, sipping his coffee.

  "Then you should take me with you."

  Alex looked up, surprised. Then he smiled. "I don’t think you’ll enjoy yourself. I’m going to be in meetings nonstop for a few days, and I won’t have much time to show you around."

  "If you’re going to be gone for so long," she said, before she could think it through, "then you have to take me out to dinner."

  "My flight is at nine."

  "So take me out at five."

  "Don’t you have a class?"

  "It won’t kill me to miss one class."

  Alex thought for a moment. "Alright, tell me where and I’ll meet you there at five."

  Miranda missed not one but two classes that afternoon. She went to Neiman Marcus and bought the sexiest black dress she could find. She took two hours to get ready, then took a cab to the restaurant. She waited in the private room until Alex arrived.

  A well cut black dress makes most women look good, but it makes a beautiful woman breathtaking. And indeed, Alex couldn’t breathe for a moment, and he couldn’t hide it. He took her hand and she stood up.

  "You look beautiful."

  "You shouldn’t sound so surprised."

  "I’m not."

  They went to their table and ordered. Miranda made Alex talk about his trip and why he was going, and listened with genuine interest. She talked about her classes, and he listened as if he were hearing all of it for the first time. They hardly touched their food, although Alex did finish his brandy.

  It was six thirty when the check came. "I think we should go home," Miranda said simply. "Your flight, I mean."

  "Of course, my flight."

  They held hands as they waited for the car to come around. Miranda looked at Alex with a small smile as they sat in the car. He looked at her but didn't say anything.

  They were quiet the short distance to the house, but Miranda still smiled. Keith came out to park the car. Miranda knew he’d make himself scarce. "I have to get some papers," Alex said, looking at the door as he unlocked it. Miranda nodded, following him into his study.

  She closed the door behind him and turned off the lights. Without a word, he kissed her. She kissed him back. He squeezed her hips; she wrapped her arms around his waist. He took off her coat and she took off his jacket. He hungrily traced the line of her back, from shoulder to hip. She loosened his tie and unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt, then pulled his shirt out of his pants and warmed her hands on his hairy skin.

  "Tell me you love me," she whispered.

  "You know I do," he said. "I try so hard not to, but you don’t make it easy."

  "You’re not as smart as you pretend to be, because there’s no reason not to now. I’m not a child. I’m twenty-two."

  He kissed her on her neck, and she thought she was going to melt into the floor. "You’ve noticed that I’m a little older than you are."

  "Just pretend I’m your third or fourth trophy wife, and it won’t seem wrong."

  "You’re not a trophy. You’re the reason I get up in the morning."

  "Then stop pushing me away."

  "You deserve something better."

  She kissed him again. "There isn’t any better. You’re the one I want, the one I’ve always wanted."

  In the dark, she could see him smile a little bit. "You could have anyone you wanted, you know. It’s stupid to want me."

  "Calling me names isn’t going to get you out of this."

  "But why me? There’s no reason to have a crush on me now."

  "You are incredibly handsome and sexy, in case no one ever told you."

  "They did, I just didn’t care what they thought. Whoever uses phrases like ‘The most eligible bachelor in Boston’ doesn’t really deserve to be taken seriously."

  "And they’re wrong," Miranda said, standing on her tip toes so she could kiss his forehead. "Because you aren’t eligible, you’re mine."

  "Are you sure you want me?"

  "You’re the one always trying to escape from me. You know how I feel."

  "But you can do better," he whispered. "You wouldn’t want me if you knew everything about me."

  "You’re wrong," she said, then kissed him again. "You like your secrets too much, my love. I’ll want you no matter what."

  "What are people going to say?"

  "To hell with them," Miranda said. "And besides, just consider yourself lucky that I don’t have any parents you need to go through."

  Immediately, Alex’s body stiffened, and his arms dropped off of her. He took a step back. He switched on the light, then fixed his shirt and tie as if nothing had happened. Her eyes filled with tears as he reached for his jacket. "I’m sorry. I really have to get going. You know how security at the airport can be these days."

  She stood up straight. "Right," she said. "Well, make sure you get a look at your face before you get to your meeting. I don’t think you want to have to explain to everyone why you have lipstick all over your mouth." She walked out of the room and up the stairs. She heard him leave five minutes later, without so much as walking up the stairs to check on her.

  She got out of her dress and took off her makeup, then packed another bag of things to take to Zainab’s apartment in the morning.

  CHAPTER 11

  Emily was quiet when she and Mitch met that night. What was wrong? Jesus, he thought irritably, what did I do now? He leaned back and closed his eyes, noticing her disappointment, but what else was new?

  She walked ahead of him when they got off the train, holding the doors open just long enough for him to enter. Alright, he shouldn’t have ignored her. By the time they got into their studio, she wouldn’t look at him.

  He slammed the door. "Why do I always have to ask what it is?"

  "Oh, grow up!" Emily scowled as she reached into her bag. She took something out and threw it at him. He caught it. It took him a second to figure out what he was looking at.

  "Oh. Honey. Wow. Why didn’t you-"

  "Because you’re being a passive aggressive jerk!" She stormed into the bathroom and turned on the water. He knew he should go after her, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the plus sign on the pregnancy test in his hand.

  ~~~

  Miranda called Emily the next day. She sounded flat. "Hey, is everything alright?"

  "Yeah, I’m just...a little rundown."

  "Is everything okay?"

  Silence. "How about I tell you on Saturday?"

  "How about you come over so we can talk about it?"

  "Um..."

  "We’ll be alone."

  "Oh."

  "And I’ll get the best vegan pastries I can find, even if I have to ship them in from New York."

  Emily laughed. "How can I say no?"

  "You can’t. That’s the whole point."

  CHAPTER 12

  Miranda was sitting in the living room at five, reading the paper, when Keith announced Michael. "Ugh!" she said, throwing down the paper. Keith showed him in. "Is there anything you need now?"

  "A dry martini, I think," Michael said, sitting in Miranda’s chair. Miranda rolled her eyes, but nodded to Keith.

  She closed the door and turned to him. "I assume you know that Alex is out of town?"

  "I do."


  "Then you’re an idiot," she said with her arms crossed. "And after you drink your martini, go."

  "Is that anyway to talk to...what would you call us?"

  "How about best of enemies?"

  "I’m not your enemy. I’m just another of Alex’s victims."

  Keith knocked on the door. Miranda grabbed the martini and Keith quickly left. She slammed the drink down on the banquette. "There. Bottoms up."

  "Did it ever occur to you that I might not be what you see before you? That I could have been better?"

  "Yes," she answered truthfully. "What didn’t occur to me was that several million dollars would be the magic cure for what ailed you."

  "Doesn’t money fix everything?"

  "Ask Jessie. Actually, don’t, because she really is a victim. Yours, to be exact."

  "Oh, please. We were just kids. Stuff happens."

  "Jessie was a kid. You were an adult, at least physically. And you were certainly an adult when you assaulted Emily, you bastard. You want to argue some kind of mental impairment, that’s fine, but you should probably know that that’s likely to hurt your chances to get your hands on that money you want so badly."

  "Okay, Miranda," Michael sighed. "Why don’t you get everything off your chest so we can talk like two reasonable adults?"

  "Why don’t you just get out before I stick this fire poker down your throat?"

  He shook his head, stood up and drank his martini, olive and all. "You never asked," he said, casually holding his empty martini glass.

  Déjà vu. "Never asked what?"

  "About my parents."

  There it was. "Fine Michael. Please, tell me about your parents."

  "I don’t want to bore you with the details of their lives. Just what happened that led to their deaths and to my tragic entrance into your life."

  "I know how they died. And it’s very sad. No one should have to lose the people they love like that, especially when they’re so young. It almost makes me feel bad for you. Almost."

  "No, you actually do feel very bad for me, don’t you? You always have. That’s why you never really did anything to me; no matter how much you thought you hated me. Poor, pitiful little Michael."

  "I don’t think ‘poor’ or ‘little’ was what I usually thought. And, actually, it was more ‘pathetic’ than ‘pitiful.’"