The Family You Choose (11 page)

"No, no!" Miranda said, looking at everyone,
anyone to tell her that this wasn’t true. "What happened? She’s
never done this before."

"I’m afraid that isn’t true." Everyone looked
at Richard, who still couldn’t stop staring at his chips. "After
her mother died...it took weeks for her to get through the night
without screaming. She was convinced her mother was coming back,
and she...was very paranoid for a while. But the doctors—they gave
her some medication, and it hasn’t happened since then."

"Oh, God, Richard!" Miranda walked over to
him. "Why didn’t you tell me?"

Richard looked at her, and Miranda remembered
the thirteen year old boy with the bloodshot eyes. "What would you
have done?"

Miranda looked up at Alex, who swallowed with
difficulty. "I don’t know, but I wouldn’t have let you do this on
your own." Miranda started tearing up. "We have to fix this, okay?
And this time I’m going to help," she said with a catch in her
voice. "Okay?"

Richard patted Miranda’s hand. "Of course.
Thank you."

A doctor finally came into the waiting room
after everyone, even Mitch, stopped crying. Richard leapt out of
his seat. "What is going on?"

"We’re still not sure," the doctor said, and
Miranda felt as though she couldn’t breathe. "The good news," he
continued, "is that this wasn’t sudden. Based on my conversations
with the school, Jessie’s been increasingly agitated for the last
couple of weeks. So far, her roommate seems to think that Jessie
started becoming upset when she received a package."

Miranda and Emily, resting in Mitch’s arms,
looked at each other in horror. "But I didn’t send anything that
would have upset her! Just some chocolate I know she likes and a
couple of DVDs. That’s what set this off?"

The doctor smiled at her and shook his head.
"That would be highly unlikely. Her roommate said that night she
started having trouble sleeping. She started waking up in the
middle of the night asking for her mother, whom I understand has
been deceased for years."

Richard made a fist. Alex put his hand on
Richard’s shoulder. "Yes, doctor. Jessie’s mother died about
fourteen years ago and...apparently this happened after she passed
as well."

"I see," the doctor said grimly. "Well, right
now, I’m working on the hypothesis that whatever underlying
condition we may be looking at, physical or emotional, it was set
off by, essentially, a lack of sleep."

Zainab shook her head. "Doctor, are you sure?
She didn’t know who we were and she thought she was a little girl
again."

"It’s not the underlying cause, but if she
hasn’t been able to sleep through the night, that can, in extreme
cases, lead to a presentation of psychotic symptoms. Unless," he
said, lowering his voice slightly, "she has been abusing
non-prescription medications. That might complicate things."

Everyone turned and looked at Miranda, who
blushed. "No—I think abuse is too strong a word. She’s used
pot—marijuana—a few times, and I know she’s used some acid, maybe
some Ecstasy a few times too. But she’s never used anything harder,
at least not as far as I know. I think I’d be more worried about
liver failure or lung cancer than anything else."

"By that I assume you mean that she smokes
and drinks?" the doctor asked. Miranda nodded. "How often?"

Miranda shrugged helplessly, looking to
Zainab and Emily for some help. "It’s not a regular thing," Emily
said at last. "Richard’s allergic to smoke, so she wouldn’t do it
when she’s at home, and she told me the school cracked down on
smoking this fall. I don’t know—maybe the weekends."

"And alcohol?"

"The most she ever had was a half bottle of
Bailey’s," Richard said suddenly, looking at Miranda. "I know she
drank after that, but really, not more than the equivalent of a
drink or two at a time. It was just enough to irritate the
adults."

The doctor smiled. "We’re going to run a tox
screen, just to check it out. And what about prescription
medications?"

Richard shook his head. "No. She was taking
something up until she was ten, but then the doctors took her off
of it."

"What about other people’s medications?"

"No!" Emily snapped. "She isn’t breaking into
other people’s bathrooms to get high, alright? Check her all you
want, but you aren’t going to find weird antidepressants,
barbiturates or someone else’s blood pressure medication in her
system."

"I have to ask these questions. I’m not
trying to upset anyone, but I’m not going to be able to treat her
if I don’t know everything."

"Fine," Emily said sulkily. "I’m sorry. We’re
just...when can we see her?"

The doctor tightened his lips. "I’m afraid
we’re going to need to keep a closed circle around her for a while.
At the very least, until she knows where she is. Only very close
family for now. I’m sorry. We don’t want to isolate her, but I
don’t want to confuse her either. Excuse me. I’ll be back as soon
as I can."

Richard sank down into the chair. "Jesus," he
whispered. "What the Hell is going on?"

Five weeks later, Richard got the okay to
bring Jessie home. The medication they gave Jessie to sleep seemed
to help. Richard found something else to appreciate in Zainab, who
had been paying more attention in her pharmacy classes than she had
let on. She put the doctors through their paces with every new
medicine they tried, and Richard knew he could depend on her to
make sure Jessie received the most expert care.

Richard was pained that Jessie still did not
remember him. The rest of her memory was spotty as well. There were
some things she remembered very clearly—like that she hated math
and languages but loved history, who her favorite actors were, and
how to download mp3 files off the web—but some things she couldn’t
remember at all, like her penchant for coffee, dancing and the
names of her best friends. She did remember Zainab—if only from the
car ride—and the doctors agreed that Zainab could come and go as
she pleased with Jessie.

Zainab all but moved into Richard’s house. He
was incredibly grateful that she was able to reduce her class load
to help out with Jessie. "I don’t think I’d get through without
you," he said quietly after she’d brought some things over.

"Of course you would," she said, stroking his
cheek. "You are the most magnificent man I’ve ever met. You’re
generous and kind. I don’t know who else would have lasted this
long."

He kissed her hand. "I don’t either if they
didn’t have you."

~~~

Miranda and Emily called Zainab for constant
updates, and Miranda had constant suggestions, most welcome, about
how they should proceed. And Zainab patiently listened and reported
and told them everything they wanted to know. Miranda was grateful
to Zainab as well, but she was also burning with jealousy, which
made her feel worse.

Michael had wanted to visit but Richard had
to put his foot down. He could not, under any circumstances, visit
his home for the foreseeable future. Richard would be happy to see
Michael at his house or anywhere else of his choosing, but Michael
could not come there.

Thus, Miranda and Alex found themselves in
Michael’s frequent company again. He would show up, unannounced as
usual, for dinner, or demand their presence on very short notice.
Miranda, miserable, tried her best to make sure that she had other
plans, but between Jessie’s convalescence, Zainab’s caretaking and
Emily’s work and marriage, she often found herself sitting across
the table from him, not even trying to make conversation and just
waiting for the opportunity to make an exit. She’d look up at the
ceiling, trying to make patterns with the stucco, or see if she
could identify how many petals were on the flowers in the foyer.
And always, at least once per visit, she’d see Michael looking at
her, not glaring as he used to, but half-smiling as if they shared
a secret together.

"He makes me sick!" Miranda said, slamming
down her books when she met Emily for lunch one day in
November.

"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.