The China Doll (3 page)

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.

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."

"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.

At nine-thirty, Emily opened the door to the
computer room. Mitch was intent on a case he was reading and didn’t
even look up. Emily closed the door. "Hellie’s asleep."

"Then you are a miracle worker. She’s a crazy
little monkey."

"Mitch—look at me." Mitch did as he was told
two seconds later, then sat back with a smile as he stared at his
wife in her new lingerie.

"Wow," he said appreciatively. "When did you
get that?"

"A couple of days ago," Emily shrugged as she
walked over to him. She put her hands on his shoulders as she sat
on his lap. "I thought maybe you needed a little extra
encouragement."

"That’s not fair, Em. You know how crazy
everything is right now."

She leaned back but kept her hands on his
shoulders. "Crazy enough to justify not having sex for two
weeks?"

Mitch opened his mouth to say something, then
just blinked. He put his hand on Emily’s back and rubbed her skin
under the silky garment. "No, I can’t think of anything that would
justify that."

Emily kissed him. She was relieved—it was
nice to know they still had that spark when they touched. "Then,
Mister Graham, I think you have some amends to make."

Mitch smiled and slid off her robe. "I think
you’re right."

Miranda and Richard came in to the office
that the next day and found Emily at her computer, humming to
herself and smiling. "Good morning," she sang when they walked in.
"Thank you again for such a lovely party. Can I pick you up
something for breakfast?"

Miranda waited a moment before she could
answer. "Um, no," she said with a straight face. "Jessie made us
breakfast this morning."

Emily stopped what she was doing. "Really?
Richard, when did you teach her how to cook?"

Richard shuddered a little bit. "I didn’t.
But I know she was trying to be nice."

"Wow," Emily said appreciatively. "I guess
this new therapist really is doing the trick, huh?"

"Something like that," Miranda said as she
took off her jacket.

"Regardless, Em, I think I’ll take you up on
your generous offer to pick up some coffee."

"No problem—" Emily’s phone rang. "Hello? Oh,
good morning sweetheart."

Miranda laughed. "Richard, I’ll get you some
coffee. Anything else?"

"Whatever they have that’s edible."

Two minutes later, Miranda was in the coffee
shop. There was a line.
Mental note: next time, pick up coffee
before you get into work
. She hummed to herself. Emily’s good
mood—or whatever—must be catching.

She’d been in the line for two minutes before
she realized that she was humming along to the next song. She knew
this song. She blinked. She knew the first song too. They were
playing Thelonious Monk, her favorite jazz musician. But he didn’t
get a lot of play usually. Her lucky day.