October, 1989

Michael watched Tracey absentmindedly twisting the ring on her finger, thinking about how surreal it felt to be curled up on his bed with his pregnant fiancée, looking through a brochure for family housing together. His eyes traveled up to her stomach, already noticeably rounder, to her newly full breasts. He wondered hopefully if she would spend the night here with him.

"So it looks like the West Village Apartments are cheaper," Tracey said, snapping him out of his trance. He returned his attention to the brochure with difficulty.

"Yeah, let's do those," he agreed. "Okay, two bed, one bath, that's eight hundred thirty-five a month." Tracey sucked in a breath. "It's okay, my parents are going to help us pay for it," Michael reminded her.

"Yeah… Are you sure it's okay to be taking so much from them?"

"Yeah, don't worry," he said. "My mom offered, I didn't even ask her. And we'll pay them back as soon as we can."

"Okay," she said, though she didn't look entirely reassured.

The truth was that he was also a little embarrassed about asking for so much. With much difficulty his mother had persuaded his father to pay for the apartment, but George Sr. was furious at Michael for not consulting with him before proposing. He was also vehemently against the marriage and Michael's commitment to helping raise the baby, as he was worried it would interfere with his education and career. But Michael didn't want Tracey to worry so he was trying to hide his own qualms.

"Let's look at the pictures," he said in an effort to change the subject. "Let's see, West Village…here they are."

"Oh, those look nice!" Tracey said.

"Yeah," Michael agreed, though they didn't look particularly special to him.

"Oh, look at this, they have a child care program." She took the brochure from him and read. "I can't tell if it's free or not… Oh, it looks like we get a subsidy since we're both in school… With the subsidy it ranges from zero to ten dollars a day, depending on family size and income. It goes from 7:45 to 5:30. That would be great."

"Yeah," Michael said. "We should try not use that too much, though, we can arrange our class schedules so at least one of us is home most of the time."

"Yeah…" Tracey said, though she didn't seem to be listening, still reading the brochure. "It says they need to be at least three months old. Well, that's perfect, 'cause the baby's going to be born in June, so we can take the summer off and then do the child care when Fall term starts."

"Yeah. We shouldn't do the whole day, though," he said. He'd promised himself that his child wouldn't be raised by nannies like he and his siblings had been.

"It's not the whole day, it's 7:45 to 5:30."

"That's still a long time."

"This program looks really good. And even if we're home, we'll be busy studying, so this would probably be better."

"Yeah…" Michael said uneasily. "Well, we can figure this out later, we've got almost a year until then."

"Okay," Tracey said. She glanced at the clock on the desk. "Oh no, it's 11:30 already," she said, sitting up. "I'd better go."

"Wait, stay a little longer," Michael said. It was a Friday night and all they'd done was look at brochures, and she was looking especially lovely tonight.

She smiled. "Sorry, I have work in the morning. I need to get some sleep while I can."

"Sleep here," he said, running his hand down her arm.

"Mm, I'd love to," she sighed. "Your roommate will probably be back soon, though."

Michael groaned. "Ugh. Okay, good night."

"Don't worry. In two months we'll be living together and this won't be a problem."

Michael smiled. "Can't wait."

"Me neither," she said, and kissed him. "Good night."

"Good night."

She slid off the bed, picked her backpack up from the floor, and slung it onto her back. "Do you want to meet me after work tomorrow?" she asked.

"Yeah, sure."

"Great! See you then."

"Yeah, see you."

He watched her leave as the door swung shut behind her, then lay back on the bed and sighed in disappointment. Tracey's ability to handle her packed schedule was one of the things he loved about her, but it could be a little frustrating at times.

The phone rang on his desk. He got up and slid off the bed and picked it up, wondering who was calling him so late.

"Hello?" he said.

"Hey, it's Lindsay."

"Oh, Lindsay, hi," he said, surprised. They hadn't spoken since he'd told her he was getting married a month ago. "How are you?" he asked, a little apprehensively.

"Great," she said with unnerving enthusiasm. "I have some news to tell you."

"What is it?"

"I'm getting married."

Michael blinked. "What?" he said.

"I'm getting married! His name's Tobias, he's a med student at UCLA."

"Wait, what are you—is this a joke?" Michael stammered.

"Nope, not a joke."

"But—I didn't even know you were dating anyone!" he said. This had to be a joke, it didn't make any sense.

"Well, I never told you about it, but we've been dating for a while."

"You're actually serious about this, you're really getting married."

"Yes, how much clearer can I be?"

"Why?"

"Uh, because we want to?" she laughed.

"You want to—You're twenty years old, why would you get married right now?" he choked.

She laughed viciously. "This coming from you?"

"That's different, she's pregnant." His heart skipped a beat. "You aren't pregnant, are you?"

"Oh, no," Lindsay said, sounding caught off guard.

"Then why are you doing this?" he said, though he was simultaneously breathing an inner sigh of relief.

"Because I love him, I don't need any other reason!"

"Wha—Who the hell even is this guy?"

"Well, like I said, he's a med student at UCLA, he's training to be a therapist slash analyst. He's really smart, ambitious, socially conscious. He's amazing, I think you'll really like him."

Michael was speechless for a second. This was insane, she couldn't get married, this was Lindsay. "Well—Jesus, how long have you even known him?" he stammered.

"Since July."

"July?"

"Well, how long have you known Tracey?"

"Longer than that! This is crazy, why are you rushing into this?"

"Because we love each other, there's no point in waiting!"

"No point in waiting? Lindsay, just think about this!"

"There's nothing to think about!"

"This is insane!"

"Honestly, Michael, you're starting to sound a little jealous."

Michael stopped, stunned. "Is that what this is about?" he said, his voice shaking with anger. "You're trying to make me jealous?"

"No, I'm just saying that's what it sounds like—"

"That is sick, Lindsay, that is fucked up."

"How self-centered are you? You think I would marry someone just to—"

"Damn it, Lindsay, why can't you let this go?! I'm your brother for god's sake!"

"That's not what this is about!"

"One month after I tell you?! It's LSU all over again! I tell you I'm dating someone and you move across the country, I tell you I'm getting married and you call me a month later and tell me you're getting married too! Am I supposed to be alone for the rest of my life because you've got some weird crush on me?!"

The silence hung in the air for a moment.

"Fuck you," she said.

Michael blinked, taken aback by the hatred in her voice. He sighed, realizing he'd gone too far. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that," he said. She didn't say anything. "Lindsay? Lindsay, are you there?" he said, but there was still no response. "Shit!" he said, slamming the receiver down.