The Measure(82)

“Okay, well, what about kids?” Amie asked.

“You know we don’t want kids.”

“I know you feel that way now, but you’re only thirty, so you might change your mind. And by the time you’re almost forty and alone . . .”

“That’s life!” Nina shouted. “Before the strings arrived, that was the chance anyone took when they got married, or when they had kids. There was no guarantee. But you still vowed in sickness and in health, not knowing which one you’d get, and you still promised till death do us part, with no idea when that parting would occur.” Nina paused. “But now that we have the strings, suddenly the risk that every couple used to accept has become so unimaginable?”

Nina was right, Amie knew it. And she knew she was making a mess of things, but she couldn’t stand down now. She had fallen too deep into the pit of her own uncertainty, convinced that her sister needed her. “I’m just trying to protect you!” she insisted.

“Well, you don’t have to do that,” Nina said sternly. “I never asked you to.”

“Come on, Nina! You’re not the only one who gets to worry about people and want to protect them. You’ve always been that way with me, and god knows you’ve been that way with Maura, and sometimes we get to feel that way, too!” Amie was nearly out of breath.

“This is different,” Nina said, staring harshly at her sister through glassy eyes. “And you know what? I don’t even think this is about me. This is about Ben, and you being a fucking hypocrite. You spend months writing all these secret love letters to him, and then you actually start falling for him in real life, and now you won’t even give him a chance! All because you’re afraid of his string.”

“That’s not fair,” Amie said softly. Nina was wrong, she thought. It wasn’t about Ben. It couldn’t be.

“I just don’t want to watch you suffer,” Amie said. “You’re my sister!”

But Nina was done discussing. She hastily stood up from her seat, the legs of the chair screeching against the floor.

“Just because you’re a coward who would rather protect herself than take a chance on someone, that doesn’t mean I have to make the same selfish choice,” Nina said bitterly. “I’ve made my decision.”

Amie knew that the argument was over now. Nina was shutting down. Her voice was brusque, her face stony and grim.

“And if my marriage is so upsetting to you,” Nina said, “then you don’t have to be there.”

She slammed the door behind her as she left.

Amie remained frozen for a minute, staring at the closed door, wondering if she should run after Nina. But she couldn’t run. She could barely move. Her legs grew weak beneath her, and she sat down heavily in the chair that her sister had just left empty.

Then she finally started to cry.





Winter





Jack




Jack was picking at a platter of crudités in the corner of a corporate hotel suite, surrounded by various shades of beige furnishings, trying to prepare himself.

His suit hung a little looser on his frame; he had lost a surprising amount of muscle mass in the months since he stopped training for combat. Through the window, he could see the swarm of protesters gathered outside the hotel, holding signs that read “Support Short-Stringers!” and “Stop Rollins!”

In a few minutes, Jack would be standing onstage, under the arch of red and blue balloons, while his uncle made a speech about the future of the nation and his aunt waved to the crowds that seemed to grow larger and louder at every stop. Tonight’s event, the biggest to date, was being broadcast on national television.

Jack looked over at his father, who was reading in a nearby armchair, and smiled weakly at him.

“You better sharpen that grin before you’re on camera,” his father said, flipping to the next page in the newspaper. “And maybe you should just sit down and relax until we’re needed. Stop hovering over the food.”

When Jack’s father first heard about Jack and Javier’s switch, he was relieved and grateful, of course, to know that his child had a long life ahead. But he was also horrified by the boys’ actions. He had railed against Jack for hours, shocked that his son would jeopardize the Hunter legacy and live in such deception. Until Jack reminded his father about Grandpa Cal’s stories from his time in the army. The most important part was always the brotherhood, the loyalty among comrades in uniform. Jack told his father that the switch was what Javier wanted more than anything, and that’s why he agreed to it. His dad could never know the full truth.

But Jack knew that his father still had nightmares about the lie being exposed, putting the integrity of the whole family at risk.

“Only three people in the world know about this,” Jack assured him, over and over. “Just me, you, and Javi. That’s it. And none of us are going to tell.”

Yet the spotlight kept shining brighter on Katherine and Anthony, so it was hard for Jack’s father not to feel anxious. And he dreaded the day, in the not-so-distant future, when the truth would inevitably come out.

But Jack finally saw a purpose in his lonesome upbringing. He had been raised to take care of himself. So, when that day came, Jack would find a way to handle it.