The Family You Choose (5 page)

"Who do you like to be alone with?"

Miranda blushed, thinking of Alex taking her
to the theater the week before. "No one yet. But someday."

"Whatever you say."

Miranda smiled. For now, it was enough to
watch Richard and Sophie enjoying each other.

Unfortunately, Michael had ended that fantasy
too. Miranda never found out exactly what happened. All she knew
was that Sophie had been waiting for her to get home one weekend.
She only saw a glimpse of her running out with Michael trailing
behind to make sure she left. Sophie wouldn’t return any of
Miranda’s calls, but her parents had called Alex. Alex stayed calm,
but Miranda could tell that they were screaming on the other
end.

Miranda could hardly take it when they sat
down to dinner that evening. Both Michael and Alex acted as if
nothing had happened, as if Miranda hadn’t just lost someone very
important to her. When Michael asked her very politely for the
bread, she’d had enough. She walked the bread over to him and
dumped it on his head.

"Miranda!" She ignored Alex and ran upstairs.
She slammed the door and went through everything of hers that
Sophie had given her so she could throw it away, not wanting to be
reminded of yet another of Michael’s victories. Then she collapsed
on her bed and cried herself to sleep.

She woke up in the middle of the night, still
wearing her jeans and tee-shirt. She thought she heard something;
that someone was outside her door. She walked over to the door and
put her hand on the knob. She thought, or maybe she imagined, that
she could feel someone’s heart beating on the other side. It was
Alex. Had he wanted to tell her that everything was going to be
okay, that she didn’t have to worry? But she did have to worry. She
put her hand on the door and started to cry again. She saw feet
under the door; the feet stayed, but they didn’t say anything.
Eventually, she fell asleep, leaning against the door.

Richard was sad the next time she saw him.
Miranda thought that he knew what had happened to Sophie, but she
was too afraid to ask him. "I’m sorry," she whispered.

"It’s not your fault," Richard said softly.
She knew he meant it but it didn’t make her feel any better. She
briefly, just for one moment, hated Alex because he didn’t fix
everything.

Miranda’s suspicion that Michael had violated
Sophie’s person seemed to be confirmed the next summer, when Alex’s
frequent business trips always coincided with Michael’s nearly
complete exile from the Hendrickson-Bartolome residence and
subsequent presence at Alex’s house. So Michael was home quite a
bit, but for the first time in her life, Miranda didn’t have to
worry, too much, about any undue harassment because Michael wasn’t
usually alone. Frequently, Michael had several young female
companions. They would start off in the kitchen, the dining room,
or the living room—invariably, wherever Miranda might have been.
They somehow always managed to evade Alex’s assistant Keith, which
she didn’t think was due solely to luck, and they would scamper up
to Michael’s room for about an hour. Miranda would have been
grateful for the relief, except that Michael and his friends were
usually so loud that she couldn’t think or read or even watch
television. It would be somewhat manageable, except that Michael
was almost always sure to repeat the entire process at least one
more time. And only when Miranda was by herself, never when Richard
or Jessie were over.

After over a week of this, Miranda made sure
to be out of the house whenever Richard and Jessie were otherwise
occupied. She became a frequent visitor of the Museum of Fine Arts,
the Harvard Fogg and the Science Museum. She would frequent cafes
and movie theaters to keep busy. It was then that she developed a
taste for Will Farrell and Adam Sandler movies. A good laugh felt
good, no matter where it came from. Her most frequent stop was the
Boston Public Library because it was so close to home. She would
often smuggle an iced tea or sandwich in and eat lunch in the
courtyard connecting the two buildings. She liked to sit, reading a
book or sometimes just watching the fountain. She didn’t usually
like to be alone, but this was an exception. She felt protected in
a place surrounded by books and history.

Sadly, everything closed eventually, and
Miranda would have to return home. She would be infuriated to
discover that while Michael might have been sleeping in her
absence, he would be on the phone within five minutes of her
arrival and the whole process would start again.

Fine. She called Richard. "You owe me."

"And why is that?"

"Because he’s here, and not over there."

Fortunately for her, Richard and his Solar
Car team had skills. When she told Richard what she wanted him to
do, he balked, but she insisted. "I’ve had it!"

She made sure she remained conspicuously
present the next week, and sure enough, by eleven o’clock in the
morning the next day, the first of Michael’s little friends
arrived. Miranda smiled and put on her classic movie DVD, listening
through her head phones. But just for good measure, she made sure
the Eighties top hits and show tunes which Michael hated were
blasting at the same time.

Miranda knocked on Michael’s door one week
later. "What?" he barked, not looking at her as he threw his
clothes around, looking for his shoes.

"Did I ever tell you about my porn
collection?"

"Your what?" Michael looked up and laughed.
"Oh boy, Miranda, you really need to get some action, don’t you? Or
are you trying to pick up some tips for Alex? Cause, you just let
me know, and I’ll be sure to help you out."

"Oh, but you are helping me out already. And
maybe I didn’t mention—this is sort of like kiddie porn, I
think."

"Wow," Michael said, looking at her from his
bed. "Who knew little Miss Princess was such a deviant?"

"Oh, you have no idea. It’s pretty gross
actually. Here, let me show you." She popped a disk into his DVD
player. It took a minute for Michael to realize what he was
watching. "I don’t know," Miranda said, leaning on his bed post as
he stared. "I’m thinking that girl isn’t more than, what,
fourteen?"

Michael rounded on her furiously. "You little
twit!" He grabbed her wrists tightly, but she laughed, even though
it hurt. "What kind of a pervert are you?"

"Gosh, I don’t know, does that make me a
voyeur? Whereas I think we can just call you a pedophile."

"You’d know, wouldn’t you?"

Miranda didn’t want to waste her breath
telling him that Alex had never touched her. "I think you should
stop using this house as your Motel Six. What do you think?"

He roughly pulled her. "I think I could just
break your arm and then maybe you’d be convinced to mind your own
business."

"And I think," she said, starting to gasp
with pain, "that I’ve got the camera running right now, and if
anything happens to my arm or my leg or any other part of me,
everybody is going to know why."

"So I could just kill you," he whispered,
"and then no one is going to know anything."

"Do you really think," she whispered back,
"that I’m the only one with these disks? I mean, I don’t even have
a DVD-burner in my room."

Michael let go then bustled around looking
for the camera. He found it at last, and smashed it with his shoe.
"Okay, that little game is over."

"But I guess I didn’t tell you how many of
these disks I have. And if I have to, I’ll show them to Alex."

"Why? Does that turn him on?"

"Do you want to find out?" Michael didn’t say
anything. "I don’t care who or what you do, just don’t do it while
I’m in the house, okay? If you can keep to that little arrangement,
then this can stay our dirty little secret."

"How appropriate," Michael said, then shoved
her out the door. Miranda shuddered, rubbing her wrists. It didn’t
matter. She’d gotten what she wanted.

~~~

Miranda came home after high school was
finished and insisted, over Alex’s objections, that she was going
to the university with Richard. Alex demanded that she at least
consider some of the better schools on the West Coast, but she
hadn’t even applied. He was unmoved by her assertion that it was
his alma mater; in fact, it seemed to annoy him. Jessie had been
already been sent away to boarding school and Miranda knew how to
break her out of school when she thought they needed a quick trip
to New York City. And besides, Richard was still there.

Michael...well, Michael had tried college for
a month and a half before Alex agreed it wasn’t working out. Alex
decided, with some hesitation, to get him a job through one of his
friends. Miranda didn’t understand all of the nuances, but it
sounded as if he basically needed to be clean, sober (something of
a challenge) and well-rehearsed a couple of times a month for
meetings and he was all set. She heard Richard use the term "demo
dolly" a few times.

Work meant that he was around less, but as
when he had been at boarding school, Miranda and Richard could
never depend on him to not show up. They always had to brace
themselves for his sudden arrival. Miranda found more solace in the
Hillel at the university and the events they sponsored than at home
anyway. She regretted not being able to bring those people into her
world, but experience had shown her that avoidance was the best way
to keep them in her life at all.

Overall, she thought that they were safe.
Unfortunately, that illusion was shattered the summer before she
met Emily.

Miranda knew she had nothing to complain
about compared to Richard. He should have graduated two or three
years earlier, but he hadn’t. Richard was one of the smartest
people she’d ever met, a perception only enhanced by his quietness.
He had a double major, but that wasn’t it. Looking after Michael
and now Jessie, who was beginning to develop a much wilder streak
away from home than she had shown when she was younger, was a
full-time job. He could have graduated on time, but he wanted to
graduate well. Miranda admired him for his perfectionism in light
of the less-than-perfect circumstances. And she began to hate Lucy
Bartolome who, for all her money, was no help at all with Michael
and only slightly more with Jessie. At least, Miranda had always
believed, she would protect them in the face of a disaster.

Finally, Richard had only one more year to
go. The June before, Miranda noticed a lightness in Richard’s step
that hadn’t been there before. He told jokes—although not too
well—and Miranda and Jessie laughed with him more and more. He was
even more jovial with Michael. Richard probably was the closest
thing to a friend Michael had, and Miranda thought she saw them
actually getting on like real cousins once or twice.

She couldn’t say the same for relations
between Michael and herself. Michael had graduated from pushing and
bullying to a slower nastiness with her. He would
eavesdrop—sometimes openly—on her conversations with Richard, Alex
or Jessie just long enough to gather enough information to belittle
her. Whether it was her clothing, her classes or her the friends,
she kept away from him. Usually, she ignored him—although unlike
Jessie she at least acknowledged his presence—unless he started in
on an anti-Semitic tangent. Miranda would shout and scream at him,
which only made Michael do it more frequently.

Richard was mortified. "I don’t think he
means it."

"That doesn’t make it any better."

Richard’s father had left him a house on the
Cape. He hadn’t been there that often, but that summer he felt like
it was time to have a party, albeit a small one. Jessie and Miranda
were invited, of course, as were some of his friends, mostly guys
from the solar car team. Miranda rolled her eyes whenever Richard
talked about that project. Bless him, because someone needed to do
these things, but he was so earnestly enthusiastic it almost gave
her hives.

The three of them arrived on a Friday night
and the next morning Miranda was helping Richard in the kitchen. It
was when she was peeling bananas for the fruit salad while he was
humming and setting up the burgers that she realized something.
There weren’t any adults there—there rarely were—but this time it
seemed normal. Because Richard really was the adult, and not just
an overburdened kid who had to babysit. He was a man, having a
get-together and enjoying himself. He’d earned it. Jessie came
bounding in as Richard opened a beer. "Hey, gonna give me some of
that?" she’d said, and they ended up play fighting for the beer.
Richard won and put the beer down as Jessie sighed and put her head
on his chest. Miranda looked at them and for a moment she couldn’t
breathe. She loved them both so much, and now they were all
happy.

About ten people arrived by eleven that
morning. They ran out to the beach, playing volleyball, running
through the water, chatting and eating. Miranda couldn’t remember
when she’d ever been so relaxed, despite Jessie’s continued
attempts to get sand in her food and shoes.

There was a knock on the door. Miranda had
her eyes closed as she worked on her tan and hardly noticed. She
had almost drifted off to sleep when she felt a shadow in her
light. She opened her eyes, and there was Michael standing over her
with a big, leering grin. "Who knew you could fill out a bikini so
well now?"

She leaped up. Before Richard or anyone else
could say a word, she dragged Michael over to the nearby dock.

"Hey, if you wanted some alone time with me,
you just had to ask."

"Dream on and shut up!" she said. "How did
you get here?"

"I drove, dummy."

She moved in closer and sniffed. No stench
yet. "Fine, you somehow managed to stay sober before afternoon
kicked in. See if you can make it to five. Don’t mouth off to
Richard or any of his friends. Don’t try to prove how smart you are
or how geeky, dumb or uninteresting they are. Don’t try to be the
coolest guy here by making everyone else feel like they’re little
and small. Don’t break anything. Don’t say anything asinine about
Jews. Don’t be an ass to Jessie. Don’t make Richard feel like this
is just one more day that he has to endure."