Chapter 26 Micah
Micah
Sunday evening, reunion weekend
Micah is exhausted.
The horrible knowledge that Audrey is dying, the tornado of emotions around seeing the Core Four, not to mention all the logistics and troubleshooting of the reunion, have taken their toll.
Also, the boiling fear that her son hates her, the knowledge that, at any moment, he may tell James about his DNA results.
If that isn’t enough, Mom insists on a family dinner in her apartment since Logan and Eve are in town. Her son helps Mom in the kitchen, enjoys Eve’s endless travelogues and photos, sits next to James and ignores Micah.
She has to get up at 4:30 a.m., as usual. Lola’s is open seven days a week, after all. She covers a yawn as they eat.
“Tired?” Eve says, always one to smell weakness. “Not sleeping well? You look exhausted.”
Has Logan said something to her? She looks at her son, but he won’t meet her eyes. The truth is, she hasn’t slept well since Logan’s first enraged call and doesn’t think she’ll ever sleep well again. “It was a busy weekend, that’s all,” she says.
“No one could’ve pulled it off except you, babe,” James says, putting his arm around her and kissing her temple. “Everyone had such a great time. My phone’s still blowing up with compliments.”
“Who’d have guessed you’d be Little Miss Stafford?” Eve asks, offering a fake smile. “Head of every committee, beloved of every townie, baker of goodies. You were so different in high school. Did a lot of people bring that up?”
“No one but you, Eve.”
“But you wanted to travel, see the world, have adventures. Did the reunion make you wish you’d done things differently? I mean, have you ever even left New England?”
She’s been to New York City twice and Washington, DC, once, on the eighth-grade field trip.
“Not that often,” she says. “Guess I have everything I need right here.” She wants to retaliate in kind: Yeah, it’s ironic, you were the one who wanted to settle down with a nice local guy and have kids, but you never met someone who’d have you.
But to do so would be to stoop to Eve’s level, and she’s always tried not to.
“You should take Micah on a trip, Evie!” Mom says, oblivious as always. “You must have the miles, and don’t you get all those fancy hotel rooms for free? You girls would have such a good time!”
“If I go on vacation, Mom, it will be with James,” Micah says, opting not to mention the fact that her mother freaks out if Micah takes half a day off. Imagine a week.
“Yeah, we need to make time for that, don’t we?” James says.
“I can certainly recommend some places,” Eve says.
“Ho Chi Minh City, Auckland, Sydney, of course, even if it’s crawling with tourists.
La Paz, Tanzania. Oh! You should go to Palau!
The Four Seasons has a yacht with only ten or eleven rooms, and the snorkeling is breathtaking.
Eco-tourism, too. They visit UNESCO sites and work with the Indigenous peoples there. ”
“Sounds gorgeous,” James says, squeezing Micah’s leg as he reads her mind. They could never afford any of those places, and Eve knows it.
“I have to hit the road,” Logan says. “Gran, thanks for dinner. It was excellent. Auntie Eve, talk to you soon. Mom. Dad. Take care.” He hugs everyone, though when he gets to Micah, he barely makes contact.
“I’ve got to head out, too,” Eve says, glancing at her watch. “I’ve got a plane to catch.” Convenient. She won’t be staying to help clean up, in other words.
“Eve, you live such an exciting life,” says Mom. “Where are you off to next, sweetie?”
“Sussex, then Uganda,” Eve says. “I’ll be stateside for the holidays, so I’ll see you then. By the way, Logan and I were thinking you could come to Boston this year. Change it up a bit.”
Eve bought a condo in Boston when Logan moved there last year. Micah has yet to see it. Before that, her sister lived in San Francisco, Maui and Miami. Never once asked her to come visit.
As for having Christmas at Eve’s and not their house . . . Micah swallows the lump in her throat. She and James always cook a big dinner on Christmas Eve. Logan gamely lets them tuck him in and agrees not to get out of bed if he hears Santa. Of course Eve wants to take that, too.
But Micah has bigger problems. She tells Mom to go put her feet up, and she and James clean up the kitchen. When they’re finished, they walk the three blocks home.
Her house looks different tonight. After spending the weekend at Bitter Creek Farm in all its graceful, quiet splendor, and hearing about Beck’s place on the Upper West Side and Jasmine’s sprawling mansion in Greenwich, it’s hard not to compare.
Their house has character, but it’s careworn.
It’s felt a little sad without Logan these past five years, at least to Micah’s mind.
It’s probably time to spruce it up . . .
if James doesn’t divorce her, that is. She kicks off her shoes and practically falls on the couch.
“Want a glass of wine, Mike?” James asks from the kitchen.
“Oh my God, yes.”
He comes into the living room and hands her a generous glass of red, then sits on the other end of the couch, scooping her feet into his lap. They spend most evenings this way, his warm hands on her perpetually cold feet. It’s embarrassing how often she falls asleep just like this.
“Logan seemed a little . . . tense,” James says. “Maybe work is harder than he thought. Did he say anything to you?”
Micah shakes her head, then takes a gulp of wine.
“I thought it was weird that he came up, knowing we had the reunion. But he got to see Eve, so that was nice.”
“You know she just came to make sure everyone in our class knew she’s the one who travels and has such a fabulous life,” Micah says. “To rub it in my face.”
James is quiet a minute. “Do you wish you could trade places with her?”
“No!” she says, sitting up, nearly sloshing her wine. “No, I love our life, James.”
“Do you?”
Her heart throbs. “Yes. Don’t you believe me?”
He tips his head to the left. Logan does the same thing when he’s thinking.
“I do, sure. But seeing you with your friends again . . . you looked so happy. I can’t help wondering if Eve had a point.
That being back with them reminded you of what you wanted before you got pregnant.
Maybe you feel a little . . . disappointed? ”
“I was happy to have us four all together again. You know how tough that breakup was for me.”
“Sure, I knew. Even if you never really talk about it.”
She never has. It’s always felt too horrible to open up and admit her guilt.
The wind rattles the window, howling a little, and she automatically wonders/hopes/prays that Logan is driving safely and that the assholes on the road will stay away from him. Then she looks at James, his hair shot through with silver, his hands so masculine and strong on her feet.
The love of her life.
“I love our life, James. I love you.” The tears flood her eyes, surprising her. “I have to tell you some things, though. Things about this weekend and . . . other things, too. Hard things.”
“Sure. Go ahead.” He looks at her, concern in his denim-blue eyes. “Whatever it is, I’m here for you, Mike.”
Don’t make promises you can’t keep, warns a glum voice in her head. She sets her glass down on the coffee table, pulling her feet away from him. “This first thing is something you can’t tell anyone. Anyone. Not Logan, not your parents, not anyone.”
“I promise.”
“Audrey has early-onset dementia. She’s . . . she’s going to die soon.”
His mouth falls open. “No!” he says. “Oh God, babe. No, that’s not fair.”
“It’s not fair at all,” she says. “Her daughter doesn’t know, but Clay and Stephen do. And now Jasmine, Beck, you and me.”
He shakes his head. “God, poor Audrey. Now that you mention it, I have noticed her being a little off a few times . . . I ran into her this summer, and yeah. I don’t think she remembered who I was.
But man, she’s only forty-three! She can’t have dementia, can she?
” He leans over and wipes a tear from her cheek.
“She can. Stephen thinks Dr. Kate had it, too. He said . . . he said she was pretty agitated the night of the accident and drove off like a bat out of hell. He also said that maybe . . . maybe we weren’t the ones at fault that night.
Maybe Dr. Kate caused the accident.” Her voice ends in a whisper.
How she had loved Audrey’s mother. How they all had.
James leans his head against the back of the couch and gives a low whistle. “Wow. That puts a whole new spin on things, doesn’t it? Maybe you can forgive yourself now. Not that it was your fault, Mike, but I know you thought it was.”
It’s so like him to summarize things like that—accurate and succinct.
All her churning thoughts, all the blame and self-flagellation, all those years of trying to be the town’s perfect citizen to make up for her role in the accident .
. . Can she let go of those now? Is it possible that the self-hatred baked into her bones can evaporate?
But of course, there’s one more thing she has to say, something much bigger and scarier. She wants to tell James now, tonight, before Logan does. He deserves that. Jasmine was right.
“There’s another thing, James, not related to Audrey. It’s . . . it’s about Logan.”
“What? Is he sick?”
“No, no, not that.” She swallows and forces herself to look at him, taking both his hands in hers. “Honey . . . remember the idea that my family has Abenaki roots?”
“Sure. Eve was talking about it at Christmas, wasn’t she?”
She nods. Her heart is thudding so hard she can feel the pulse behind her eyes, in her knees, her throat. “Well, Logan was curious, so he . . . he, um . . . he took a DNA test.”
James freezes. “Oh.”
This is it. The last moment he will love her. The boy who declared his love when he was fifteen and has never looked at another girl. Who was thrilled to learn she was pregnant. Who asked her to marry him for six years before she said yes.
“So he knows about the teacher, then,” he says. “Shit.”