Miranda (29 page)

It was 6:45 in the morning and Eliezer was no longer keeping me company. I was confined in a dwelling of mattresses, cushions, cold soups, juices that were past their expiration date, rest, and solitude. Before eight, I received Alex’s daily call whose purpose was nothing more than following Margaret’s required protocols and essentially verifying whether I was still alive.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Today’s answer is no. I’m still not dead.”

“And if you were dead, dear, you’d be shocked right now, running around terrified.”

I didn’t allow him to continue. My mind felt very cloudy and distant to enjoy his silly jokes.

“Alex, I’m not up for this today.”

“Sorry. I’m only trying to cheer you up a little and convince you to, finally, tell me the truth.”

“The truth about what?”

“Don’t play with me, Miranda. What’s going on with you? Is it so serious that you don’t want to share it with The Great Alex? Your best friend?”

I doubted my resolve for a few moments. Beautiful words don’t always convince me.

Except when they come from Eliezer, and even then, not every time.

I rediscovered the rudeness strategy.

“You haven’t sent me the report on the correspondence and actions taken with regards to the bidding in El Salvador.”

I listened to the silence that surrounded the other end of the line and the distant murmuring of those who deal in insults and rudeness.

“Fine. If you want to change topics, message received.”

I insisted, but not because I was impatient.

“Where’s the report on El Salvador?”

He sighed.

“Forget about El Salvador.”

“What do you mean? How can I forget?”

He sighed again.

“Clausell’s son ordered us to pull out of the negotiations.”

I abandoned my fetal position. I got out of bed and stood up.

“You better give me the whys and wherefores, Alex”

I imagined how, just then, he was looking up at the ceiling, something he does when he doesn’t want to follow an order.

“It’s been a couple of days since Eliezer said so. I wanted to tell you, but your state of mind and health haven’t given me the opportunity to do it.”

“Don’t give me that story. The son of a bitch threatened you? He told you not to tell me, right?”

That was Eliezer’s modus operandi, and the only valid reason for Alex to hide something so important from me.

“It’s not easy here, Miranda. The strangest things have been happening. Decisions have been made that make no sense.”

I didn’t want to know any more details.

“We’ll speak later, Alex.”

I was on the verge of pressing the red button on the screen of the phone. The shout that came out of the speaker stopped me.

“Don’t hang up yet, Miranda!”

“Just imagine. It’s time for someone to put the imbecile we have for a boss in his place.”

***

I didn’t have a script in my mind, only determination and a question. Why would he want to do me harm?

I arrived with my face washed, sporting a long casual dress, high heel sandals, and a long lightweight coat. Margaret told me that Eliezer was in the boardroom. The pleading in her eyes–that I abandon whatever mission I was on–was fruitless. I couldn’t even hear whom he was with. I took long quick strides and abruptly opened the door. My eyes found Eliezer and Isabel, both looking astonished.

I laughed wryly.
That’s what I’d been missing.

“Clausell, I need a few minutes.”

The man gave his mother a greasy look.

“Wise. Can’t you see that I’m in the middle of a meeting?”

I walked toward him. I raised my hand a little and spoke with a deliberate mannerism and a raised index finger.

“I need a few minutes. Now.”

Despite the implicit threat and the strictness in my tone, Eliezer managed a mild, but nearly invisible smile, the kind that he likes to keep secret when he gets excited. Right away, the anxiety was reflected in his face. Isabel rose.

“Good morning, Miranda.” I responded to the greeting sarcastically with a look of contempt. She responded with the first shot to begin the battle. “You can say whatever it is in my presence. I am the wife of the founder, mother of the CEO and, of course, your superior.

I walked toward her and put my hand on her shoulder.

“I prefer to speak alone with my immediate boss. It’s my right,” I responded with a smile on my lips. I withdrew my hand and Eliezer began to speak.

“Isabel is right, Miss Wise. Moreover, she’s a shareholder in the company. We shouldn’t exclude her from Medika affairs.”

I focused my eyes on the man.
Great! Two against one!

I gave him the opportunity to redeem himself.

“Let’s talk about El Salvador.”

Eliezer leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs.

“Apparently, your team’s loyalty is more powerful than my orders.”

“Why did you do it?” I asked, when in reality I wanted to say, “Why are you doing this to me?”

Eliezer looked at his mother, who took advantage of the silence to sit down again, cross her legs, and smile from ear to ear. Then he looked at me very seriously for a few seconds and spoke: checkmate.

“I don’t have to give explanations to my subordinates, much less share with them why I make decisions that are for the good of this company.”

I noticed contempt in his words–that same contempt that he had for me the first day that he arrived. I didn’t have to look at Isabel to notice how satisfied she was with her son’s response. The atmosphere reeked with her malice.

If Eliezer and I were alone, the story would be different. We would have ended the conflict with strong words, insults, and a session of incomprehensible lust. Of course, that wasn’t the case. Eliezer Clausell only made me feel anxiety, sadness, and anger. I had nothing more to say, nothing more to do. I turned halfway and abandoned Medika with my heels clacking.

After going out the door, I found the answer to my problem. I made a difficult decision. I leaned against the wastepaper bin outside the large glass doors of the main entrance. I felt a bit of nausea, but nothing more. That’s what Eliezer Clausell had caused. How disgusting. Living nine months alone, unappreciated, devalued, and hated was not worth it. Much less was it worth giving such a father to an innocent child. You can’t miss what you never had. Suddenly, those words of his reverberated in my mind. They made me reassess many of my ideas.

***

There it was: the most discreet place I could find with no Planned Parenthood sign on the outside. There were two women in the waiting room. The younger one looked relaxed and played with her smart phone. The older one, in her forties, was quiet. She hid her face behind large Christian Dior sunglasses that framed her Vanity Fair pose to perfection. I sat at the back of the room. I didn’t go to the counter. I needed more time. What if I got over the anger and the will to go ahead with the act? In the middle of the turmoil of emotions, I received a text message.

What are you doing?

I looked at the shadowy door. There was no one there. I didn’t respond to the message. Then another one came.

Where are you?

I looked at the door of the clinic again. There was still no one there.

Answer me!

I didn’t look at the door any more. I had to shake the feeling of paranoia.

Get out of there, or I’ll come in to get you.

What the hell?

I looked up. Through the door, there was Norman, camouflaged by the frosted glass that hindered visibility from the inside.

You have five seconds to get out.

But who do you think you are? What authority do you have to speak to me that way?

I began to key in a response. A sixth message appeared on the screen.

This is serious, Miranda. If I go in, tomorrow we’ll be on the front page of the national newspapers. My face is well known. And you are inside there. Get out!

The door began to open. So, I reacted.

Outside, I didn’t have the nerve to look at his face. Churning in my gut was a mix of shame and anger. He walked me up to the vehicle that had driven him. He was wearing dark glasses. He ordered Donovan to get out of the car.

“How did you know where I was? Who told you?”

He spoke serenely.

“That doesn’t matter. What were you doing there?”

“What were
you
doing there, Norman?”

Flustered, he threw up his hands.

“I intend to ask the right questions to avoid reaching the wrong conclusions.”

I threw myself against the door on the other side and tried to open it. It was impossible, as was taking off my seatbelt. I gave Norman an angry look and then sighed in frustration. The old man smiled.

“Childproof, remember?”

“Norman, I am not a girl. I can do what I please without accounting to anyone. Much less, asking permission.”

He looked at me carefully, a tender look, a look filled with a father’s love. He knocked down the fragile wall that I had built to defend my privacy. My eyes, in a rescue attempt, tried to hide my shame. Still, as adult as I thought I was, I reverted to being a girl every time I tried to outthink him. In that moment, I became a stupid adolescent, again, the kind who gets impregnated by the first idiot who spreads her legs.

I leaned forward, embraced him closely and cried. I cried and cried. I cried even more when he held me in his arms. When he thought that was enough of an overflow of emotion, he removed his sunglasses and delicately detached my face from his arm. I was lost in his gaze. My soul so desired the company of Eliezer during these moments that I couldn’t avoid…

“Miranda! What are you doing?”

With both hands, Norman held my arms and separated us, tearing my lips from his in another crushing deluge of embarrassment. My body began to shake. I started crying again. Norman only looked at me as though, that way, he could discover the source of my dementia.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry…” I whispered without pausing.

The good father covered me in another embrace, still stronger and warmer than the last.

“Tell me what’s happening to you Miranda. You’ve managed to scare me!”

Norman had never seen me cry like this. He had only seen me shed a few dumb tears when I fell off my bicycle, and when a boy whom I never saw again made fun of me in school for living at an orphanage.

“I need your support, Norman. Don’t ask me questions, just keep me company.”

He placed his hand on my back. That time I was conscious of the fact that I wasn’t with Eliezer, rather his father who was also my father. Norman hugged me. We didn’t keep track of time. I only know that it was becoming dark outside.

***

“Who’s the father?”

I moved away a little. I wanted to avoid surrendering to the temptation to tell him the truth.

“
That’s
what doesn’t matter.”

“Is the situation between you so bad?”

“I said that it doesn’t matter.”

He sighed.

“Does he know?”

“It doesn’t matter, Norman!”

“Don’t be immature, please!” He imitated my tone of voice. “I’m trying to help you.”

“No one asked for your help. Furthermore, I’ve ceased to be your primary concern. I don’t know you, Norman. It hurts me, but I don’t know you. It’s been some time since we’ve ceased to be family.”

Silence. In seconds, he reformulated his approach.

“In a moment of desperation such as this, I don’t want you to do something that you’ll regret your whole life, my daughter.”

More tears came out.

“Let’s leave the sermon for later, Norman.”

“In recognition of everything I’ve done for you, Miranda Wise, I demand that you tell me, at least, who the father is.”

“That’s none of your business–not yours, and not anyone’s! This conversation won’t take us anywhere.” I tried to open the door again. “Please, Norman. I have to go.”

He grabbed me by the arm and a freezing cold coursed through my veins. His touch was similar to that of his son: rough, rude, and irreverent.

“You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what is going on.” He continued holding me by the arm, just as his son was accustomed to doing.

The experience confused and so angered me that I lost control.

“Eliezer! Let me go!”

The pressure on my arm was relieved.

“Eliezer?” His voice came out in a murmur. The question was more of an assertion than an inquiry.

“I am sick of the Clausells thinking that they own my life! To hell with both of you! Consider my debt paid,” I continued, screaming,

“God!”

Norman threw himself on me, he embraced me with such force that I felt like I was going to explode.

“I’m so sorry, Miranda…” he began to say. I pushed and kicked in response. He held my arms and tried to stop my crying with a penetrating stare. “Calm down, please. This isn’t good for you.”

“In these past months, have you given a damn about what was good for me, and what wasn’t? Why has the paternal sentiment suddenly returned? You’ve only had time for, and a desire to tangle yourself up in who knows what with your wife. You’ve thrown our relationship in the trash!”

While his voice rose, I continued fighting my tears.

“I have neglected you, I know. Now I notice that I’ve been inconsiderate. I laid too much responsibility on you. That responsibility was mine and no one else’s.” He took a breath, and let go of me. He leaned back. “Does Eliezer know?”

“Your son is the most fucked up person that I’ve ever known.” That is not the answer he was expecting, but the only one I had for him.

“Does he know?” he repeated with his eyes closed.

I shook my head.

“He has no reason to know.”

“At least give him a chance to find out. I’m not going to judge your decision. I only… I only ask that you not rob him of his right.”

“Things aren’t that simple, Norman. Your son has not earned that right. Your son is a disaster! Did you know? I still haven’t explained how I fell into his clutches. Can you imagine what my life would be like if I had his baby? If, by chance, I remain by Eliezer Clausell’s side?”