Page 60 of Man Cuffed
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I can feelMeg’s eyes on me as we drive away. She’s staring. Maybe it’s because I’m driving out of Julie’s neighborhood like zombies are chasing us and the car is on fire.
“So,” she says.
I grunt.
“That woman. Who is she, Mac?”
“Why?”
“Because she looked wary. You didn’t look happy to see her. But her baby freaked out. I can’t make any sense of it.”
“I’ll bet,” I snort. “What if I told you I’d never met that kid before?” And honestly, it’s the only thing about the whole familial standoff that gives me pause. My family’s betrayal cut me deep. And I feel no guilt for cutting them out of my life. But how long is too long? Does anger have an expiration date? Best if used before…
“Who is she, Mac?”
“My ex.”
I hear Meg’s sharp intake of breath. “Maguire. Do you have a child?”
“No!” I laugh. “But I have an identical twin.”
3… 2...1… I can almost hear the cogs of Meg’s mind turning. She’s smart, so “HOLY shit!” explodes out of her mouth awfully fast. “Youridentical twinhas a baby with your ex.”
“Yup,” I sigh. This topic isn’t any fun at all, and I’m tired.
“Just a wild guess here. But is she the reason you need a date for Rosie’s wedding?”
I say nothing. But we both know she’s right.
“Because...” Meg tries. “Because you broke up with her, and she was so heartbroken she took up with the only human on Earth who looks just like you?”
I stop at a traffic light. “That’s a nice version of the story, Meg. But that is not what happened. I asked her to marry me. She said yes. Then I went away to school, and she started sleeping with my brother.”
Meg groans. “And then you killed him?”
“To the best of my knowledge, he still lives.” Although I did have some violent fantasies right after it happened.
“You haven’t seen him either?” she yelps. “In how long?”
“Ten years.” God, that sounds weird when you say it out loud. “We don’t speak.”
“Whoa. Not ever? But I met your parents. They seem normal.”
I give her a look.
“Okay, not exactly normal,” she amends. “There’s the inflatable penises and the collage art to consider. But they’re not monsters.”
“No.” I press the accelerator. “But they never seemed to care that Morris broke us up.”
“Not at all?” she yelps.
“They sort of shrugged when it all went down.”
“What happens on Christmas? Or Thanksgiving? I mean, there is not enough wine in the world for that meal, right?”
“I don’t attend,” I admit.
