"That’s exactly what I meant." He kissed her again. She thought he got better and better at it. She pulled back again.
"Did you see the doctor?"
"Yes, yes, yes," he said wearily. "I missed an important international call I’d had planned for a week, but I got a clean bill of health. Any personality changes you observe from now on are strictly the result of personal growth."
"Oh, good. Then we’ve got nothing to worry about."
"Should I take that as an insult?"
"How about a joke, Mister Intensity?"
"Oh, right, I think I’ve heard of those." He kissed her forehead. "Hungry?"
"You just got home," she teased.
"I meant for food," he said, kissing her neck.
"Food." Oh, right. "I guess I should eat something. Um, do you have an apple?"
"When was the last time you ate?"
"I think there was that food I had before Alex punched your lights out—literally."
"That must explain the questionable humor."
"Or judgment."
"So I guess I’d better feed you so no one accuses me of taking advantage of you."
"Anyone in particular you had in mind?"
"Richard called me from the West Coast about six times today."
"And are you going to break? Give me up?"
"Not if you don’t want me to." He kissed her again. "But I guess I’d like to know why."
"Why what?"
"Why you’re hiding from Richard."
"Really, if I were hiding from Richard, would I have spent an hour on the phone with Zainab today?"
Michael raised an eyebrow. "And you told her?"
"I had that covered on Saturday actually."
"Right, I forgot to worry about that."
"What are you worried about?"
He shrugged. "I like Zainab, and she’s Richard’s girlfriend. I’d like her to think you’re being well-treated."
"Well, I didn’t get too specific, but I can if you need me to."
"If you told her enough, I think she would feel compelled to mention it to Richard, and then you’d have to talk to him."
"Like I said, I’m not trying to avoid him. I’m just trying to figure out what to say. As soon as you have a good elevator speech, you let me know."
"You’re the one who needs the speech."
"Why? You already have yours?"
"It’s pretty simple. It has three words. And I think I already told you."
"Creepy again," she said, forcing a smile. "I think I’ll take that apple now."
He shrugged and got her an apple. He tossed it into the air and caught it, smiling at her like he was thinking of something. She made a face and snatched the apple away. "I don’t think I should have to sing for my supper," she said before she bit into it.
He watched her eat it, so she ate that much more slowly. He took off his jacket and tie. She had trouble swallowing.
He tossed the core as soon as she was done. "Are you ready to sing now?" he asked quietly. He was six inches away from her. Her lips tingled again. Why was her heart beating so fast?
Then she grinned. "Do you have any cereal?"
"Cereal? It’s dinner time."
"Sorry, not trying to offend your gourmand sensibilities."
"That’s not what’s offending me."
"Is that a yes or no?"
He sighed and grabbed a box of cereal from the cabinet. He opened the refrigerator, but she shook her head and grabbed the box. "I don’t need milk, and I’m not going to need a bowl."
"So you’re just going to eat it straight out of the box? What are you, ten?"
"Did I say that?" She turned around, shaking the box of cereal at him over her shoulder like he was a cat.
It took him a second, but then he grinned as he unbuttoned his shirt and followed her.
At ten o’clock the bed was filled with crumbs. He breathlessly stroked her shoulder. "So," he managed, "you like ice cream, right? Because I’m thinking that could be pretty fun."
"I don’t know. I think that can get pretty messy." She held up a scolding finger. "And if you don’t give me a key, don’t think I’m going to be here tomorrow when you get back."
He held himself up on his hand. "If I give you a key, do you promise to pick up the ice cream?"
"If you give me a key, I promise to pick up hot fudge and whipped cream too."
"Deal." He traced the line of her bare hip. "Just one thing though—I think we’ll need a shower after that."
"I don’t know," she said. "I think you’re assuming that you won’t need one when you wake up."
"So we’ll take two."
"That’s not very green of you. I think we’ll have to find another way to get clean."
She straddled him and he put his hands on her sides. "And what were you thinking?"
"Hmm...how do cats do it?"
Grinning, he rolled her onto her back. "I see your point. But you know, I think we could use a little environmentally friendly clean up right now."
She laughed as he kissed her neck. She knew how this would sound to her friends, but...she couldn’t stop this, and she didn’t want to.
~~~
In the morning, after their shower, Michael gave Miranda two keys to the door. "You’ll be okay if you leave?"
"Shockingly, I have managed to walk through the streets of this extremely safe neighborhood for years without ever having anything happen to me. And if all else fails, I can scream pretty loudly."
"And you’ll scream if-"
"Yes."
He smiled. "And you’ll come back?"
"Yes."
CHAPTER 25
Emily was still so nauseous she could barely keep water down, but she could finally keep it down. On Tuesday, Mitch felt okay leaving her at home by herself. By Wednesday, she insisted on going to work. Mitch objected, but Emily was strong enough to shoot him down.
"Meet me for lunch?" he said when they got to Professor Hazlett’s building.
She made a face. "Is that a joke?"
"Meet me at lunch, then," he said.
"Okay," she nodded. "I’ll let you buy me a soda."
She let him kiss her forehead—she didn’t want anything touching her lips—and then went into the building. She knocked on Professor Hazlett’s door. "Come in!"
As soon as she saw Emily, Joanna Hazlett’s face dropped. "Oh my God, you’re pregnant!"
"Uh..."
"Oh, don’t give me that!" Joanna said. "I thought something was off when your husband called about a sudden illness, but I assumed it was a little newly wedded bliss. Why didn’t you say something?"
Emily smiled for the first time in a week. "Joanna, how do you...?"
Professor Hazlett gave her a hug. "Let’s just say I’ve seen this before." She squeezed her. "But dear, you look awful. What are you doing here today?"
"I need the money, and frankly, I’m not going to get any better lying in my bed at home, so here you have me."
"Well, alright," Joanna said reluctantly, "but you are out of here as of five o’clock, do you understand? If I hear that you and that adorable husband of yours are burning the midnight oil at the library again, you’re fired."
Emily laughed weakly. "Well, if you put it that way, I guess I’d better get started."
Emily noticed the sad look in Professor Hazlett’s eyes, but she assumed it was pity.
~~~
Emily was sitting in her little study room, just getting into the groove of reading, when Zainab called. "Oh, Em. Thank God!"
"No, thank you. You’re a lifesaver. I’m sorry I didn’t call you earlier."
"Don’t worry about it. Happy to help. So, you’re feeling better?"
"If by better you mean not throwing up every fifteen minutes, then yes, I am feeling better. If by better you mean able to eat, then no, I am not."
"I’m sorry. But try to make sure you can at least keep some fluids in you, okay? Sometimes you hear about nasty things like kidn
ey or bladder infections when women have severe hyperemesis gravidarum."
"Severe what?"
"That’s what they call morning sickness."
"Oh good, because the technical name makes it sound much more important, like I don’t just have to suck it up. God, I wish Dr. Crusher could just put me in stasis right now."
Zainab laughed. "Glad you still have your sense of humor, such as it is. So is everything else alright?"
"I'm okay, but I need to give Miranda a call to apologize for not showing up."
Zainab was silent for a moment. "Actually, she had a couple of other things to worry about this weekend."
"What’s wrong?"
"Miranda got a really nasty surprise on Friday night about her mother." Emily heard her inhale. "Apparently, Miranda’s mom was involved with Alex."
"Eww!"
"Save your strength. She was also involved with Stephen Abbot."
Emily blinked. "Stephen Abbot? Wasn’t that—Eww! Eww! How the Hell did she wind up with Alex?"
"Stephen was in the car with Miranda’s mother. I’m not sure when the transition was, but I think that’s part of what kicked it off."
"Oh, my God. Poor Miranda! Tell me she stabbed Alex through the heart."
"Yeah. Yeah I guess you could say that."
"Where is she now? I want to make sure she’s okay."
"She’s holed up in my apartment now," Zainab said quickly. "But I don’t think she wants any company just yet. She’s still kind of bouncing off the walls. And she lost her cell phone, so don’t call just yet."
"Oh sure, sure. But tell her to give me a call, okay?"
CHAPTER 26
Miranda, true to her word, picked up some ice cream and sundae toppings. Before she went back to Michael’s she stopped into the library to pick up some books and movies. She was willing—even happy—to stay in Michael’s house for most of the day, but she was going to go crazy if the internet and CNN were her only dependable companions.
That night Michael got home at seven. Miranda kneeled on the couch and smiled. "So, how was your day?"
"I—I have no idea." Before she could say anything, he kissed her. She took off his jacket and as he kissed her again, she had a feeling that they weren’t going to eat any ice cream that night. Fair enough, since she was pretty sure they weren’t going to leave the couch either.
It was eleven o’clock before they spoke again. He buried his face in her chest and sighed. She rubbed her feet into his legs. He touched her leg. "You’re cold."
"Hmm," she said, sleepily. "Blanket would be good."
"I don’t keep you warm enough?"
"Don’t take it personally. I don’t think a polar bear could keep me warm enough here."
"You have a point." He stood up and led her to the bedroom, then tucked her in. He looked around. "What happened to the crumbs?"
"Did you know that some really smart guy invented something called a vacuum cleaner in the last hundred years? Man, I’m so happy people like that blazed the trail for Richard."
"You vacuumed?"
"I even changed the sheets."
"Why?"
"Because it was either that or go back to Zainab’s and you led me on with all this talk about ice cream."
"Well, as long as that’s all it was. I hope I don’t have to tip you now."
"Would you like another concussion?"
~~~
Michael woke up at six on Thursday and stared at Miranda in the dark. He should get up, get in the shower and leave the house as soon as he could. But instead there he was, kissing her, touching her to wake her up. She smiled sleepily, and started to return the kisses.
When they were done, he told her to go back to sleep. He showered by himself, then got dressed quickly and left the house.
It was just a short walk to work, but his legs felt like lead. He hated to leave her—he wanted to go back. He had to get to work. He couldn’t go back. He shouldn’t go back. He had to stop this; he didn’t know what this was.
He got coffee from the Starbucks he usually went to most mornings but that he’d abandoned that week. He usually flirted with the cashier, but today he just left her a good tip and went on his way.
Work was busy so it was hard to think about anything else. He usually ate at his desk or on his way to meetings. But there were moments, always, when he had time for his own thoughts. And she was always there; just as she’d always been, but now she was so close, and she was waiting. For him.
He picked up the phone and looked at it, then dialed his own number. Miranda answered after three rings. "You shouldn’t have answered," he said harshly.
"You have caller ID," she said softly. "And I figured it must have been important if you were breaking radio silence."
He smiled despite himself. "It wasn’t."
"Sorry, my psychic mood ring doesn’t work over the phone."
"I just wanted to see you how you were," he said, closing his eyes. "I miss you."
"I miss you too." He could see her smile through the phone. "But don’t take it personally. If I have to watch any more of this Primary crap, I might be bored enough to give Lucy a call."
He closed his eyes when he got off the phone with her. It had never been like this with anyone before, and he didn’t know how to do this.
CHAPTER 27
The week after their first encounter in the hotel, Alex arrived at the hotel room at eight-fifty. He took off his tie and jacket and sat in the chair facing the door. He imagined how he’d look when she opened it. He wanted her to know that when he wanted something, he got it.
By nine-thirty, he was slouching in his chair, staring at the door resentfully. It wouldn’t be the first time he hadn’t gotten what he wanted, and deprivation seemed to confirm that it was something he deserved.
He had just started putting on his tie when there was a knock at the door. He blinked, and tried not to smile.
She stood in the door and looked him up and down. She was in a beige wool skirt and a sleeveless sweater. She saw the tie he was holding in his hand. "Going somewhere?" she said, leaning in the doorway.
"That all depends on you."
"I don’t think I can do much of anything until you’ve invited me in."
"I thought I did that last week."
"Maybe you did, but I’d like to hear it again."
"Ms. Hamilton, will you please come in?"
She smiled. Her smile was different now. He still liked it. "I think I like it better when you say my name, my real name."
"Tatiana, will you please come in? Pretty, pretty please?"
She got off the door frame. "Nothing would please me more, Alex," she said as he walked in. She threw him her coat, and then he closed the door.
At eleven, Alex threw his head back on the pillow, breathless. "You shouldn’t have been so late," he said as soon as he could manage.
"Traffic," she said, rolling onto his arm, smiling.
"Are you sure?" he said.
"Is there another excuse you’d prefer?"
"I don’t want an excuse," he said, rolling onto her. "I just want you here when I want you here."
"Oh, really?" She laughed. "And do I get to snap my fingers whenever I want, too?"
"I think you know what the answer to that is."
She ran her hands over his chest and smiled. He kissed her shoulder.
"I don’t want to share you anymore," Alex said. "The idea of you in Stephen’s bed...it’s making me crazy."
Tatiana laughed. "Really? And your bed was otherwise empty this week?"
"If that’s what you want, it can be."
"Why make this more complicated?" she asked as she kissed him. "Can’t we just be happy with what this is?"
Alex kissed her back. "And you’re happy with being in the shadows of Stephen’s life?"
Her eyes were sad. "No, I’m not."
"I wouldn’t make you stay there. I’d be happy to tell everyone you were with me."
"It’s more
complicated than that for Stephen, isn’t it?"
"If he really wanted you, he’d make it less complicated."
Tatiana sat up, her back to Alex. "I’m guessing you know Stephen a little bit better than I do, don’t you think?"
"In some ways."
She took a deep breath. "Then you know how hard some things can be for him. You know he can get in his own way sometimes. If we love him—and I think you do love him, despite this—then don’t we have to give him time?"
"I do love him," Alex said truthfully. "But does that mean I have to say no to this?"
"I’m not asking you too," she whispered. "I just don’t want you to ask for more."
He turned her around to face him. "And this makes you happy? You live in his shadow, and I live in yours? Is that how you always pictured it?"
She shook her head sadly. "No one does, but the thing you learn is to take what you can where you can. I have you, and I have Stephen. You have Stephen, and you have me. And he has us both. And right now it’s really the best we can do without anyone getting hurt."
"But then none of us are ever going to have more."
"It won’t stay like this forever," she said, then looked away. "It can’t. I won’t let it."
"And...then what? Then you’ll choose between me and Stephen? Why would you possibly choose me if Stephen gives up everything else for you?"
"Because some things are good to give up. Some secrets are good to let go of. But maybe it takes a little time."
"I don’t understand."
"Then don’t understand, just trust me. Please." She kissed him, and he would have agreed to anything that she asked.
"So when will I see you again?" he asked after she pulled away.
"When do you want to see me?"
"Right after you’ve seen Stephen. So you can compare us. So you know I want you more, and I love you better."
She smiled. "Isn’t that a bit childish?"
"If I have to be a secret, I’m going to be childish."
"I see," she said, kissing him again. Then she smiled. "You and Stephen are more alike than you think."
"Spare me the details."
They arranged to meet again next week, but earlier in the week. He tried not to think about her, but it was impossible. It was even harder when in the presence of other, beautiful women who would have been perfectly satisfactory to him otherwise. But now when he looked at them, all he could think of the ways in which they didn’t measure up to her. Even the house hunting, which had been so important to him, now only served to annoy him. Only the thought that she might be in the house with him someday motivated him to continue.
The Family You Choose Page 16