She pulled away after a minute. "That was nice," she said softly.
Martin grimaced and pulled back himself. "And that’s something I am too, Jess. I’m a nice guy, and there’s kind of an unwritten rule about men my age and girls your age."
"I’ll have you know that I am now a sophomore in college. Not only that, I voted in the last election, and I refuse to be called a girl after that."
Martin smiled. "But I’m afraid you’re still not allowed into a bar."
"Then I guess you’d be surprised at the things I’ve gotten away with...or just done."
Martin blinked. He needed to leave the kitchen. "Jess, I’m too old for you."
"I’m just a year younger than Emily was when she married Mitch."
"And I’m three years older than Mitch was."
"You know, there’s nothing I can do about that, right? Is it fair to penalize me because I have to drink at home?"
"I’m not trying to penalize you, Jess," Martin said softly. "I’m just trying to do the right thing."
"And why are you so sure this isn’t it?"
"I guess it’s that nice guy thing again," he said a little sadly.
She shrugged. The thing about not being in the habit of wanting things was the memory of how that felt. "Enjoy that then." Before Martin could say anything, Jessie walked out of the kitchen. He followed. Everyone was looking at the two of them. Jessie frowned. "Oh for God’s sake! I kissed him, okay? He was a perfect gentleman though, so perfect that it’s not going to happen again." She grabbed her jacket and kissed Helen. "I’ll see you tomorrow sweetie," and then she slammed the door behind her.
Richard folded his arms and looked at Martin. "You kissed my eighteen year old cousin?"
"She kissed me!" Martin said pleadingly.
"And of course you stopped her, right?"
Zainab and Miranda couldn’t contain their laughter. They knew exactly who had run that show. Emily was looking down at the floor so she wouldn’t break out too. "Oh, quiet you two!" Richard said scornfully.
"Richard," Mitch said calmly, "nothing happened."
"Since when is a kiss nothing?" Richard said with a fury so uncharacteristic even Helen stopped what she was doing. Before anyone could say anything, Richard’s phone rang. "Hello?" he answered. "Okay," he said before he hung up and looked at Zainab. "I’m sorry, I have to go, something—"
Zainab forced a smile. "Something came up at work," she said for him. He blinked, and then smiled. "It’s alright. Just go—make sure it doesn’t get out of hand."
"Thanks sweetheart," he said, kissing her forehead. She closed her eyes and patted his arm. "Sorry guys, do you mind cleaning up?"
Emily waved him away. "We’ve got this—go put out your fire."
"Thanks—see you all later." He grabbed his coat and then left. Zainab turned around after the door shut and Miranda and Emily looked at each other.
"So, um, why don’t Mitch and I watch Helen while you guys clean up?" Martin suggested awkwardly.
"That sounds great," Mitch said, collapsing onto the couch and closing his eyes.
Emily sighed with exasperation. "Yeah, Hellie, just listen to Uncle Martin and don’t get frosting on anything, okay?"
"Okay, mama," Helen said before she shoveled a handful of cake into her mouth.
Emily bit her top lip. Martin patted her on the shoulder. "Em, I’ve got this."
The dining room was cleared out in fifteen minutes, but Zainab, Miranda and Emily spent the next hour in the kitchen. "Z, what’s going on?" Emily asked as they started loading the dishwasher.
"I don’t think Richard wants me anymore," Zainab said at last. "Sometimes it’s like he can’t even look at me."
Miranda frowned. "Um, it doesn’t sound like that," she said delicately.
"What?"
"These walls are a little thin in some places," Miranda said uncomfortably.
"God, Miranda, that’s just sex!"
Emily looked up at the ceiling, thinking. "I don’t know why I never pictured Richard having ‘just sex’ with anyone, especially you."
"Ladies, I hate to break it to you, but Richard is a man, just like any other. Sometimes it’s wonderful, precious lovemaking, and sometimes it’s just sex. Lately, it’s been just sex. Good sex, but just sex."
Emily grimaced. "Wow, Z, and you’re not even married yet."
Miranda turned away, pretending to look for the dish detergent. It had never been just sex with Michael. Not when it was bad, not when it was incredible. She closed her eyes. She couldn’t think about Michael like that right now.
"And that’s the other thing," Zainab said quietly. "Richard used to talk about marriage so much the first two years. But when I graduated and got my pharmaceutical license, he stopped talking about it altogether. He doesn’t use the future tense when he talks about us, not unless it’s something happening the next weekend. I don’t think there is a future with Richard, but he doesn’t want to say it." She sighed. "And I don’t want to say it either, but I guess I just did."
Miranda turned around and shook her head. They weren’t talking about the man she’d known since she was five. "Zainab, I don’t know what’s going on with Richard right now, but I know he loves you. His work is crazy right now. They’re trying to pull together the second-generation prototype, and he acts like Michelangelo sometimes, so unsatisfied with what people are producing. And it’s not free. Alex’s little cash influx bought them some time, but they still need to find a distributor, not to mention a manufacturer."
Zainab shook her head at her roommate. "I know that, okay? And I know that Richard is good and decent too—you don’t have to sell him to me. But it’s something else, I just feel it."
"So what do you want to do?" Emily said, sitting next to Zainab.
Zainab sighed. "I don’t know. I’d love to talk to him, but the only time I ever get him alone is in bed."
Emily looked at Miranda, who shook her head. "You can talk there too, you know."
Zainab grinned. "Richard’s not the only one with needs."
~~~
Later that night, Miranda found Alex waiting for her at the bar of a restaurant on Newbury Street. She kissed him on the lips. "Sorry I’m late," she said a little breathlessly. "We had a little more cleaning up to do than we’d planned."
Alex kissed her again. "I thought it was something sweet like that." Miranda smiled as Alex took her hand. "Ready to eat now?"
The maître d’ showed them to their table. Miranda made a face as she looked over the menu. "Would you be offended if I just got some soup? All that birthday cake is rearing its ugly head now."
When the waiter came, Alex ordered for the both of them before Miranda could say anything. "I didn’t say anything about the chicken," she said once the waiter left.
"True," Alex said slowly, "but you don’t eat enough."
Miranda blinked and smiled. "You know, it’s kind of odd when you do that. One, because I’m not a little kid anymore, and two because...well, I’m not a little kid anymore."
Alex tilted his head back as he looked at her. "You most certainly are not. And don’t think authority figure, think interested party. Maybe I just want to make sure that you keep up your strength for tonight."
Miranda blushed. It was still so hard to believe that Alex, the man she loved from the time she was five, looked at her like that. Three years ago she would have given anything for it. "I don’t know if tonight’s a good night," she said quietly.
He traced her fingers. "And why is that?"
"Sometimes it’s just a little weird to wake up in your house, in your room."
"We could stay in your old room, if you’d like."
Miranda laughed a little bit. "That might be differently weird."
"So should you sneak me into your house after everyone’s asleep?"
"I’m pretty sure Richard doesn’t sleep that much these days."
Alex intertwined his fingers into hers. "Then I suppose I’ll have to buy a new
house, one without any old memories. One that we can make our own."
"Alex, stop." Miranda pulled her hand away and sipped her water. "Please don’t sell your house."
"If that’s what it takes, that’s what I’ll do." Miranda’s heart stopped. It reminded her of how her heart used to stop when she was with Michael. But this was different. "It’s just a house. It’s not more important than making you happy."
"I’m just not able to tonight, please."
Alex shook his head, still playing with her hand. "I understand. I’m disappointed, but I hope you don’t hold that against me."
The waiter came with their order. Miranda picked and pushed at her food, unable to eat more than a spoonful of soup. She didn’t look at Alex while they ate.
After Alex paid the check, he stood and held out his hand. "Will you walk with me at least?"
She took his hand. "Of course."
They walked down Newbury Street until they reached the Public Garden, then they walked to the bridge over the swan boats. "Too bad they’re already closed," Miranda said, looking at the dock the swan boats sat in over the summer. "It’s so warm; it would be nice to go for a ride. Hellie loved it when I took her."
Alex smiled and put his arm around her. She leaned her head on his shoulder. "I’m sorry," she whispered. "I’m not trying to lead you on. I don’t want you to be disappointed. You don’t have to be. I know you’ve got a big black book filled with the names of people you could see tonight as soon as you snap your fingers. And you should."
"You’re not a kid? Then why do you still say such foolish things?" He tilted his head down and pulled her into a kiss. She liked his kisses, at least when they started. They were strong, but not forceful. They weren’t kisses that she was afraid of. He read her so well. He knew when she just needed to be held; he knew when he could go further. Of course, he should know. "Why do you think I would want anyone else after having you?"
Miranda nervously rubbed the space between Alex’s shoulder and chest. "I just—I don’t know what I should do now."
"The fault is mine, darling," he said kissing her again. "I had so many chances with you. I know that. There were so many lies between us—my lies. I thought it was best if I stayed away from you, even when you were just a few doors away. And then when you were gone..." He embraced her and sighed. "You took a piece of me with you. You’re back, but I know I still have a lot of damage to undo. I’m just asking you to let me."
"Alex, you can’t change the things that happened. I’m not asking you to. I forgive you. I know you wouldn’t do the same things again—any of it." She felt Alex shudder in her arms, and she realized that he was crying. "Oh, Alex. Why are you crying?"
He wiped away his tears. "It’s been a long time since someone forgave me," he said quietly. "I’m not sure I deserve your forgiveness." He kissed her hand. "But that’s not what I want to hear you say to me, as selfish as it sounds. I want to hear that you love me."
"You know I love you, Alex." She was trying not to cry too. "I’ve always loved you."
He shook his head. "I’ll take what you give me, my dear, but I want it all."
Miranda pushed Alex away and turned around. She gripped the railing so tightly that her hands hurt. "Please don’t."
"I know what it’s like to love a ghost," he said. "Don’t waste all those years as I did."
She closed her eyes and the tears spilled out. Then the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Sometimes lately she could feel that ghost so near, like she could just reach out her hand and touch him. But she wasn’t allowed to pierce that veil. "If you know," she said tearfully, "then don’t haunt me too. Please leave it alone."
"My ghost died. Yours is alive. But you..." Alex sighed. "He hurt you, Miranda. Richard told me about the night after the Library Benefit. I know what he did to you."
"You don’t know!" Miranda said furiously as she spun around. Alex stood in shock. "You don’t know, because Richard doesn’t know. He was angry—because of you. You got in his face, deliberately. We fought. It was ugly. But what happened afterward…" She could hardly breathe now. "That’s between me and him."
"He was never good enough for you."
"Then he wasn’t because you made him that way," she said bitterly. "No," she held up her hand. "I don’t want to dig up bones. It doesn’t matter. I can’t be with him, so none of it matters anymore. But don’t." She trembled and covered her face. "Don’t ask to replace him, alright? Do you think I want to feel this way? Do you think I want to have this place in my heart for him? Do you know...no, you couldn’t possibly. And I’m sorry, I’m sorry if this hurts you. I’d give anything for things to be different, don’t you understand?"
He moved to put his arms around her again, but she stepped back and shook her head. "Please, I’m fine."
"You’re not, sweetheart. And I’m sorry I upset you."
She shook her head. "I will be fine. I’ll call you tomorrow, I promise." She turned and left before Alex could object. She raced through the Public Garden then crossed the street. She walked down the block, feeling her heart race the way it used to when he had been with her. She stopped at a corner and leaned against a street sign. Why was he still haunting her, after all this time? She opened her eyes. She realized that she was just one block away from the house they’d shared when they were married. She tried to make herself think of when he’d been cruel or jealous, but she couldn’t do it. She remembered smiling when he kissed her. She remembered that he’d made her feel whole. She hadn’t felt whole since the day she’d sent him away. She never would again.
She looked down the street and wept anew. She longed to open the door and walk back into the life they made together before they’d found out the truth of their connection, so much more intimate than growing up together in Alex’s house, so much worse than their parents being lovers. Because that wasn’t how their parents were even connected. But he wasn’t there anymore, and even if he had been, she wasn’t allowed to go in. She sobbed a moment more, then turned the corner and walked home. She hadn’t been so close to his house, their house, since he’d gone. That must be why her heart raced, why she still couldn’t breathe.
CHAPTER 2
Jessie Bartolome had just gotten home and taken off her scarf when Miranda walked through the door. She was about to say something when she saw that Miranda had been crying. She leaned against the railing. "Hey."
"Hey yourself," Miranda said as she took off her jacket, trying not to look at Jessie.
"Yeah, you can stop trying to avoid me now, I know you’re upset."
"So what else is new, right?"
"Well, yeah," Jessie said as she sauntered back down the stairs. "Hello? I’m supposed to be the one with the mental health problems, not you, okay?"
"Please don’t joke about that, alright? It was a miserable time."
"Yeah, for you and me both. Good thing you had Michael Abbot to comfort you."
Miranda looked up at Jessie, half-ashamed, half-angry. "Yeah, good thing," she seethed.
"And then good thing he turned out to be your cousin."
Miranda flopped down onto the couch. She wasn’t worried about breaking down in front of Jessie. "Yes, isn’t it wonderful how everything always works out eventually?"
"But, I don’t know, what do you think, should I get Zainab to break up with Richard and then make a play for him myself? I mean, what’s not to like about Richard?"
"You get that there’s a little bit of a difference, right? You always knew Richard was your cousin."
Jessie nodded. "Mm hmm. Just like we all always knew that Michael was a bastard. You better than anyone." Jessie shook her head. "How could you, Miranda? After what he did to me? After what he did to Emily? After all the times he screwed you and Richard over? Alex turned out to be a lying son of a bitch, so you went to the one person you knew who was worse? What was wrong with you?"
"Past tense, Jessie," Miranda said, trying to control herself. "Michael’s gone."
&nb
sp; "But you still love him, don’t you?"
"Jessie, stop, please."
"If I’m wrong, then why aren’t you with Alex right now?"
"I’m not a machine. I’m not always on."
"At least not for Alex. Wasn’t it a different story with Michael?"
Miranda stood up, furious now. "What is your problem? Why are you doing this right now?"
Jessie stared. "It’s something we’re talking about in therapy," she said at last. "I thought I’d gotten through a lot of this, but I guess I haven’t. I’m still angry with you. How could you do that to me?"
Miranda was at a loss. She’d dreaded this moment for two years, but she’d never worked out a good reply. She shrugged miserably. "I don’t know," she said simply. "I wasn’t proud of myself. I knew you’d hate me, I knew Emily would hate me. But I...fell in love with him."
"Who knew he’d be such a great screw?"
Miranda blinked back her tears. "It was more than sex. I loved him." She stood up straight. "I’ll never make anyone understand, and that’s just fine. But I loved him, and it was real. I’m sorry I hurt you, but can’t you just be happy that he’s gone? That I’m never going to be with him again?" She scoffed. "Because now he’s really gone, okay? Remember all those times when we were younger and he said he’d leave, but he always came back? He hasn’t come back, Jess." Jessie glared at her, and Miranda shook her head. "Yeah, you’re welcome. Good night." Then Miranda walked up the stairs to her room.
Jessie heard the door slam. She kicked the chair in front of her. Idiot new therapist. He told her she needed to acknowledge her anger. She thought doing that tonight would make her feel better after feeling like such a jerk with Martin. "Argh!" she said. But she didn’t feel any better. She’d wanted to hear Miranda say that she knew she was an idiot, Michael had put her under some kind of a spell, and that it wasn’t real. But Jessie knew what Alex and Richard knew. Miranda had loved Michael. And that made Jessie feel that much worse. She tossed a pillow in the air a few times. Great—something new to talk about with this jerk tomorrow.
~~~
Mitch, Emily and Helen made it to their new home at seven that night. Mitch retreated into the third bedroom, the one they’d designated as the computer room, while Emily tried to give hyper little Helen a bath. By nine, Helen had worn herself out and Emily was able to put her to bed.
The China Doll Page 2