FIC: The Beat That Her Heart Skipped 2a/2
The Beat That Her Heart Skipped 2a/2
By: bargara-b
Fandom: The Devil Wears Prada (film)
Pairing: Miranda Priestly/Andrea Sachs
Rating: M
Status: Complete (part 2b will be up later today or tomorrow)
Disclaimers: I own none of it.
Finally finished for Secret Santa Giftee: kyanited . My most fervent apologies for the delay.
A/N: Please see my notes in part one. Nothing has changed since then as I still don’t have a clue and it’s just fanfiction.
Thanks always to shesgottaread for the beta and the endless patience.
Summary: During a trip to London Miranda and Andy finally realize what they really mean to each other but only hours before a devastating event pulls them apart.
The Beat That Her Heart Skipped
Part One found here:
http://bargara-b.livejournal.com/2822.html#cutid1
The Beat that her Heart Skipped Part 2a/2
The landscape had changed. Once smooth and sculpted it was now rough and uneven. Unrecognizable ridges ran beyond her line of vision -- though she guessed one could define them as indentations instead of ridges if one wished. Miranda Priestly gave a humorless snort. Definitions aside, they started an inch and a half above her left ear and ran three inches toward the back of her head. Tracing the outline with three fingers on her left hand she marveled yet again that a section of her skull had been removed, her brain exposed, probed, cauterized then the section replaced like one would a puzzle piece.
Leaning closer to the mirror Miranda watched as she slowly scraped a fingernail across her scalp. Feeling nothing, she pressed her nail hard into the skin as if to puncture it; they'd said the numbness should decrease with time. Miranda’s brow furrowed further as she rubbed softly over the mark left from her fingernail. She then ran her fingers lightly through the newly grown hair, grateful the feel of stubble was finally gone. Visible under the hair, scars were still an angry red marred further by the measured puncture marks left by staples.
The doctors insisted she not work at all for the first month and now, half-way through the second month, she was being set free for a few hours each day. Luckily, her famous coif allowed for an adequate ‘comb-over’. Dear god, a comb-over? Miranda shuddered. With a grimace she put the finishing touches on hair placement and reinforced it once more with hair spray. It would take a gale force wind to budge even a single hair out of place. She was surprised and pleased that Andrea’d had the wherewithal to ask the doctors to shave only where needed.
Miranda scrutinized her reflection. Even with her practiced eye she couldn’t tell that there was a large rectangular patch where her hair was barely three-quarters of an inch long. Satisfied, Miranda turned her scrutiny to her face. Though easily fatigued, she looked fairly well rested if not a bit paler, giving her skin the illusion of translucent porcelain. Her blue-gray eyes appeared slightly deeper-set, yet still shimmered in unadulterated anticipation. For six weeks Miranda hadn't stepped foot into the Elias Clark building. Even after the twins were born she was crossing the threshold of her office before the week was out -- granted it was only for a few hours here and there, but she had still gone to work each day. This time she had been incapable of doing even that.
In her entire life Miranda had never had so much time in which to do, in her mind, next to nothing. Fortunately, a week after she’d been cleared to return from London she had successfully convinced Andrea to start bringing her the Book, but she had a sneaking suspicion that Andrea had cleared it with the doctors first. Miranda didn't care, quite frankly, how Andrea managed it as long as she was able to physically touch the Book; just knowing that the Book was coming to her each day made her hopeful -- happy even. She wasn't stupid, however, and knew full-well that Nigel, with very little of her own input, had been having the final say at Runway.
The doctors had finally released her to go to work four hours a day which was to include her travel to and from the office. Miranda scowled to herself. That meant barely three and a half hours at her desk, traffic pending of course. She snorted at that thought and wondered, albeit briefly, if she should even bother. She continued her brood while she waited for Roy to arrive with Andrea to escort her to the office. Although Miranda was certain she could navigate her way across the sidewalk, plaza and lobby she had grown dependent on Andrea for almost everything.
It was Andrea's face she had seen first when she came to. It was Andrea who held the kidney-shaped bowl and rubbed her back while Miranda vomited, her body rejecting the anesthesia. It was Andrea who sat awake for hours at Miranda’s bedside and sat vigilant on the flight back to New York keeping watch over Miranda. It had been Andrea for just about everything. Miranda's heart gave a small inexplicable leap. From the moment Miranda had regained consciousness Andrea had been especially attentive and, oddly, somewhat expectant.
Choosing not to dwell, Miranda still grasped for pieces of clarity and tried, yet again, to recall the days leading up to the … incident. Miranda was loathe to define it, even to herself, or look at it too closely as it forced her to stare her mortality in the face. But that didn’t change the fact that there were vast gaps in her memory which, she was informed by the doctors, she may or may not recover. It wasn’t altogether uncommon they’d told her, but it bothered Miranda a great deal. She was accustomed to being nothing short of brilliant. Now she felt … less than.
Miranda chose to sit in one of the never used decorative chairs in the entry of her townhouse. While the chair was aesthetically pleasing it was perhaps the single most uncomfortable chair she’d ever sat in. Regardless, she didn’t stand. Instead, she cast her gaze around her. She probably hadn’t given this much attention to the entry hall since she redecorated several years before. In fact, sitting there, she was fairly certain she’d barely afforded the area more than a cursory glance in years. A key turned in the lock and Miranda stood and started toward the door as Andrea opened it and stepped inside. A smile stretched across Andrea’s face.
“Why do I get the feeling you’ve been ready for hours,” Andrea teased.
Miranda’s response was the haughty glare of a golden-age movie star.
Andrea’s smile lessened but didn’t disappear. “And how’re you feeling today?”
Miranda felt fine ... well, almost.
========
Elbowing a random clacker out of the way Andy squeezed into the full elevator. An apologetic smile and a little wave were the last things the clacker saw as the doors closed. Two coffees sat perched in the cardboard cup holder in one hand while Andy scrolled through her calendar and to do lists with the other. Shit. Miranda was due to be out of the meeting in ten minutes. Andy glanced up at the floor numbers willing them to light faster.
The first load exited the elevator. Andy started to fidget in the now half-full lift.
“Hey, Andy.” Andy was startled out of her impatience.
She turned to her left and saw Tina from accounting looking at her.
“Oh, hey, Tina.” Andy smiled. Tina had shyly introduced herself to Andy months before as, not only a fellow Cincinnatian, but one who just happened to attend Andy’s high school a year behind Andy. They’d developed a vague friendship while chatting from time to time in line at the cafeteria.
“How are things?” Tina asked then looked over her shoulder before lowering her voice just for Andy’s ears and continued, “How’s Miranda?” Few people would have the audacity to ask Andy anything about Miranda, but Tina, strengthened by the hometown bond, was blissfully unaware of her faux pas.
Andy thought to give her rote answer, but desperate to share her burden with someone, said, “She’s getting there. I mean she’s really doing fantastic … considering.” Andy slipped her phone into her pocket and adjusted the placement of the coffees on the tray. “I mean, I doubt there’s another soul on earth who could kick this the way she has.” The clackers behind them were engrossed in a lengthy debate over the most recent liquid diet making the rounds so Andy added, “But it’s been hard.” Surprisingly, Andy started to tear up.
Tina put her hand on Andy’s arm. “Why don’t we meet for a drink after work? I can do it anytime after six o’clock.”
Andy looked into compassionate eyes. “Yeah, that’d be great. Um, I probably can’t make it until six-thirty. Is that too late for you?”
They agreed that Andy would text Tina when leaving her desk.
=========
Miranda’s first morning back at work had been nerve wracking for Andy. She’d been losing sleep over Miranda’s return not because she’d worried about Miranda’s physical condition (she had), but more because she’d worried about how Miranda would feel about what she had lost in the weeks away. Andy had known Miranda was not back at the top of her game. She’d known that Miranda still suffered deficits though she pretended she didn’t. Miranda was quite convincing that she didn’t have any, but Andy had known of Miranda’s memory loss and how much it bothered Miranda. Andy had also known that most of the lost memory was from the few days leading up to Miranda’s … incident.
Andy was still reluctant to look at what had happened in the eye. She’d been too terrified of what might have happened to acknowledge it fully. Even now, she’d wake in a cold sweat from her dreams where she relived those first hours. The dreams were fraught with dread, filled with the images of Miranda’s face contorted in pain and the sounds from the equipment around Miranda’s hospital bed magnified and multiplied to a cacophonous dissonance in Andy’s subconscious until it ripped her from fitful sleep. Often she’d dreamed of kissing Miranda and it was lovely and light when her head would be violently jerked away from Miranda’s and then she’d be falling backwards into darkness so thick and oppressive as to suffocate her. Almost beyond her view Andy would glimpse Miranda’s face growing more faint and distant as she plummeted deeper into the endless black. It took seconds and lasted forever to never hit bottom.
It had been three months since Miranda’s return to work and she had yet to acknowledge to Andy any recollection of their … moment in London. In fact, Miranda had yet to resume her usual visual assessments of Andy. Although she did give Andy certain looks which usually just involved Miranda looking directly into Andy’s eyes and, while saying nothing out loud, it was as if she was questioning something.
Now Andy sat across from Tina nursing a glass of wine. She’d related much of the nuts and bolts of what had happened leaving out the kissing part and her true feelings for Miranda.
“Gee, Andy, I had no idea,” Tina said. “That’s a lot of pressure and responsibility for one person.”
Andy said nothing, but continued to rub the stem of her wine glass between her forefinger and thumb. She gazed into the light amber liquid and tried to get the lump in her throat under control. “Yeah, I guess it has been. I just hadn’t really had time to notice just how intense it’s been.”
“But now it should be better, right? I mean, Miranda’s back to normal so your job must be back to normal, too.”
Andy reflected on just what ‘normal’ meant and found she didn’t think she could continue with this ‘normal’ much longer. She felt she was hanging in limbo waiting for Miranda to show any memory of that night. But there hadn’t been even a flicker of memory, not even a flash in her eyes when she looked at Andy, and Andy was starting to wonder how much longer she could wait without her heart being ground to dust.
Andy looked up at Tina with a somewhat forced yet bright smile. “You know what? You’re right; things are pretty much back to normal and how great is that? I mean how many people actually kick this kind of thing?” Andy took a deep breath. “Only Miranda Priestly could beat those odds.” With that she raised her glass to Tina and Andy made her decision. “So, to Miranda, huh?”
Tina tapped her glass to Andy’s, but Andy could not meet her eyes.
==============
Whoever coined the phrase ‘butterflies in stomach’ had it totally wrong. Butterflies implied something light and fluttery. What Andy was feeling in her stomach was more akin to a large herd of elephants … churning in water. Taking a deep breath, she mounted the steps to the townhouse.
“Andrea.” Miranda was in the study.
Andy finished hanging the cleaning and with the Book in hand, she walked down the hallway. “Um, hi,” Andy said as she held the Book out to Miranda.
Miranda looked up from some proofs she’d been perusing. “Oh good, you’re here.” She took the Book from Andy’s outstretched hand. “I need you to reschedule my afternoon tomorrow.”
“Okay. Anything else?” Andy asked.
“Hmm? Oh, no, nothing for now.” Miranda’s attention was already deep into the Book. “That’s all.”
“Uh, Miranda? I do have something I wanted …” Andy sputtered off when Miranda looked sharply at her, but then continued on. “Well, I wanted to give you this.” Andy reached inside her coat pocket and pulled out a white envelope.
Confused, Miranda looked at the envelope then back at Andy. Her eyes not leaving Andy’s she took it. Andy’s hands were trembling and her insides were churning (elephants) even more. “Um, I didn’t want to give it to you at the office.”
Only once Miranda opened the envelope and slid the paper out did she break eye contact. Andy was terrified. One sentence in, Miranda froze and a gasp fell from her lips as the paper dropped to the floor. “No, I won’t allow it,” Miranda’s tone was final.
“B-but Miranda,” Andy was shocked. “You’re better now and things are back to normal and I’ve been here over a year so …” Andy tapered off hoping that would be explanation enough. When Miranda said nothing, Andy continued. “Miranda there’s nothing more for me here.”
“What do you mean there’s nothing more for you here. You have --” Miranda abruptly cut off whatever she was going to say. “Fine, I’ll give you a raise. I’ll change your job title.”
Andy stared, speechless.
With a huff Miranda stood and stalked to the only window in the room. It looked out to the courtyard, but it was late and Andy knew Miranda could only see herself reflected back from the dark outside. Miranda was tense, her shoulders were hunched and her arms crossed tightly in front of her. Andy waited. After what felt like hours Miranda broke the silence. “I can’t -- I don’t remember everything,” she said. “I need you for that.” This came out as a vulnerable whisper.
Tears stung Andy’s eyes. “But Miranda you’ve remembered everything you need to. Whatever you haven’t remembered just doesn’t matter … I mean it hasn’t mattered over the past three months, right?” Andy tried to reason.
“There are gaps!” Miranda whirled back from the window. In the low light of the study Miranda looked on the verge of panic. “Don’t you understand? There are gaps where I can’t remember anything at all.”
“Miranda, the doctors said --”
“I don’t give a damn what the doctors said, Andrea.”
Andy tried again this time speaking in a softer voice. “Miranda, if something were really important it would have come up already.”
Miranda was fuming, her eyes blazing orbs. “How can you possibly know what I would consider important? Do you know what it’s been like? Do you have any idea what it’s like to know you’re missing vast moments of your life and there’s nothing you can do about it, but wait and hope --”
It was as if all the heartache and yearning Andy had suffered over the past months, all of the weeks Andy waited for any flicker of remembrance from Miranda, exploded to the surface.
“Fine.” Andy snapped then barreled ahead. “All right, Miranda, you want to know what you’ve forgotten? Do you really want to know ‘cause I’m not so sure you’re going to like it.” Andy was shaking with anger and trembling with heartbreak when she found herself invading Miranda’s personal space. Tears sprang from her eyes and Miranda looked at her in slack-jawed shock. Andy had been nothing but kind and accommodating these past months. She had been there for everything since the moment Miranda had opened her eyes in the hospital. She had been there for the doctors appointments, for the physical therapy appointments, the speech and occupational therapy appointments. She had even been Miranda for Miranda, for god’s sake, especially in those first few weeks back at the office. She’d been gentle and patient and understanding without seeming obvious or worse, cloying.
Now as Andy approached her Miranda actually recoiled. Seeing this Andy folded in on herself and stepped back out of Miranda’s space. What the hell was she doing? What was she thinking? Was she going to profess undying love to a woman who had no recollection of what had transpired between them? For all Andy knew the kiss was a side effect of the bleed. Maybe it had never even crossed Miranda’s mind to kiss her assistant. Really, did Andy really think Miranda wanted it? More likely that it was an aberration than anything else.
Horrified with her outburst, Andy turned and stumbled back to the door.
“I - I,” what Andy, you what? She looked brokenly back at Miranda who still stood by the window looking stunned. “I’m sorry,” Andy whispered then slipped out.
Andy almost made it to the front door.
“Stop!” Miranda shouted.
Andy spun around to see Miranda storming toward her.
“How dare you walk out on me like that.” Fury exuded from every pore though she no longer shouted. “How -- how dare you,” Miranda paused as if looking for a word suitable enough, “taunt me with that knowledge then walk away.” Andy retreated to the door which was now firmly at her back. There was no way she could open it to flee without stepping into Miranda’s space who was now not even two feet from Andy. “And here I thought, obviously mistakenly, that you really cared about my welfare, Andrea. That you were invested in my recovery for whatever purpose.” Miranda stepped a foot back from Andrea and let her eyes rake up and down Andy’s form then scathingly whispered, “Imagine my disappointment, Andrea, that you are no more loyal or caring than any of those other silly girls I hire.” Neither woman said a word more until Miranda gave her one more long considering stare then breathed a “that’s all,” as she turned to walk away from Andy.
Reacting on instinct alone because it certainly wasn’t on intelligence, Andy lunged forward grabbing Miranda’s shoulder. Spinning her around Andy immediately started in. “Okay, Miranda, you win. Here’s what you’ve forgotten.” Andy’s voice shook with the all memories and emotions of the last months. “We used to look at each other, Miranda, do you remember that? Huh?” Miranda looked startled and confused. “No? You don’t? Well, we did. We looked and we watched each other every day for months,” Andy all but yelped. “In fact, Miranda, we couldn’t keep our eyes off each other.” Hot tears coursed down Andy’s cheeks. She swiped at them with the back of her hand. “Do you remember any of that, Miranda, do you? Because I do and I have to watch you every day not remember and -- and not look at me that way.”
Mortified, Andy looked away then down at her hands which were wringing each other. “You talk about waiting and hoping, Miranda; well, I’ve been waiting and hoping, too.” Andy hesitated a fraction then looked back up at Miranda. “That you’d remember that night.” Andy reached her hand up and placed it on the side of Miranda’s face. Miranda didn’t move. “That you’d remember this.” Andy ran her hand around the back of Miranda’s neck and gently pulled her forward then kissed her just briefly and softly. Dropping her hand, Andy regarded Miranda quietly. “Yeah, that’s what you forgot, Miranda.” Andy then turned, opened the door and stepped out into the night.
She didn’t look back.
To be concluded in part 2b
By: bargara-b
Fandom: The Devil Wears Prada (film)
Pairing: Miranda Priestly/Andrea Sachs
Rating: M
Status: Complete (part 2b will be up later today or tomorrow)
Disclaimers: I own none of it.
Finally finished for Secret Santa Giftee: kyanited . My most fervent apologies for the delay.
A/N: Please see my notes in part one. Nothing has changed since then as I still don’t have a clue and it’s just fanfiction.
Thanks always to shesgottaread for the beta and the endless patience.
Summary: During a trip to London Miranda and Andy finally realize what they really mean to each other but only hours before a devastating event pulls them apart.
The Beat That Her Heart Skipped
Part One found here:
http://bargara-b.livejournal.com/2822.html#cutid1
The Beat that her Heart Skipped Part 2a/2
The landscape had changed. Once smooth and sculpted it was now rough and uneven. Unrecognizable ridges ran beyond her line of vision -- though she guessed one could define them as indentations instead of ridges if one wished. Miranda Priestly gave a humorless snort. Definitions aside, they started an inch and a half above her left ear and ran three inches toward the back of her head. Tracing the outline with three fingers on her left hand she marveled yet again that a section of her skull had been removed, her brain exposed, probed, cauterized then the section replaced like one would a puzzle piece.
Leaning closer to the mirror Miranda watched as she slowly scraped a fingernail across her scalp. Feeling nothing, she pressed her nail hard into the skin as if to puncture it; they'd said the numbness should decrease with time. Miranda’s brow furrowed further as she rubbed softly over the mark left from her fingernail. She then ran her fingers lightly through the newly grown hair, grateful the feel of stubble was finally gone. Visible under the hair, scars were still an angry red marred further by the measured puncture marks left by staples.
The doctors insisted she not work at all for the first month and now, half-way through the second month, she was being set free for a few hours each day. Luckily, her famous coif allowed for an adequate ‘comb-over’. Dear god, a comb-over? Miranda shuddered. With a grimace she put the finishing touches on hair placement and reinforced it once more with hair spray. It would take a gale force wind to budge even a single hair out of place. She was surprised and pleased that Andrea’d had the wherewithal to ask the doctors to shave only where needed.
Miranda scrutinized her reflection. Even with her practiced eye she couldn’t tell that there was a large rectangular patch where her hair was barely three-quarters of an inch long. Satisfied, Miranda turned her scrutiny to her face. Though easily fatigued, she looked fairly well rested if not a bit paler, giving her skin the illusion of translucent porcelain. Her blue-gray eyes appeared slightly deeper-set, yet still shimmered in unadulterated anticipation. For six weeks Miranda hadn't stepped foot into the Elias Clark building. Even after the twins were born she was crossing the threshold of her office before the week was out -- granted it was only for a few hours here and there, but she had still gone to work each day. This time she had been incapable of doing even that.
In her entire life Miranda had never had so much time in which to do, in her mind, next to nothing. Fortunately, a week after she’d been cleared to return from London she had successfully convinced Andrea to start bringing her the Book, but she had a sneaking suspicion that Andrea had cleared it with the doctors first. Miranda didn't care, quite frankly, how Andrea managed it as long as she was able to physically touch the Book; just knowing that the Book was coming to her each day made her hopeful -- happy even. She wasn't stupid, however, and knew full-well that Nigel, with very little of her own input, had been having the final say at Runway.
The doctors had finally released her to go to work four hours a day which was to include her travel to and from the office. Miranda scowled to herself. That meant barely three and a half hours at her desk, traffic pending of course. She snorted at that thought and wondered, albeit briefly, if she should even bother. She continued her brood while she waited for Roy to arrive with Andrea to escort her to the office. Although Miranda was certain she could navigate her way across the sidewalk, plaza and lobby she had grown dependent on Andrea for almost everything.
It was Andrea's face she had seen first when she came to. It was Andrea who held the kidney-shaped bowl and rubbed her back while Miranda vomited, her body rejecting the anesthesia. It was Andrea who sat awake for hours at Miranda’s bedside and sat vigilant on the flight back to New York keeping watch over Miranda. It had been Andrea for just about everything. Miranda's heart gave a small inexplicable leap. From the moment Miranda had regained consciousness Andrea had been especially attentive and, oddly, somewhat expectant.
Choosing not to dwell, Miranda still grasped for pieces of clarity and tried, yet again, to recall the days leading up to the … incident. Miranda was loathe to define it, even to herself, or look at it too closely as it forced her to stare her mortality in the face. But that didn’t change the fact that there were vast gaps in her memory which, she was informed by the doctors, she may or may not recover. It wasn’t altogether uncommon they’d told her, but it bothered Miranda a great deal. She was accustomed to being nothing short of brilliant. Now she felt … less than.
Miranda chose to sit in one of the never used decorative chairs in the entry of her townhouse. While the chair was aesthetically pleasing it was perhaps the single most uncomfortable chair she’d ever sat in. Regardless, she didn’t stand. Instead, she cast her gaze around her. She probably hadn’t given this much attention to the entry hall since she redecorated several years before. In fact, sitting there, she was fairly certain she’d barely afforded the area more than a cursory glance in years. A key turned in the lock and Miranda stood and started toward the door as Andrea opened it and stepped inside. A smile stretched across Andrea’s face.
“Why do I get the feeling you’ve been ready for hours,” Andrea teased.
Miranda’s response was the haughty glare of a golden-age movie star.
Andrea’s smile lessened but didn’t disappear. “And how’re you feeling today?”
Miranda felt fine ... well, almost.
========
Elbowing a random clacker out of the way Andy squeezed into the full elevator. An apologetic smile and a little wave were the last things the clacker saw as the doors closed. Two coffees sat perched in the cardboard cup holder in one hand while Andy scrolled through her calendar and to do lists with the other. Shit. Miranda was due to be out of the meeting in ten minutes. Andy glanced up at the floor numbers willing them to light faster.
The first load exited the elevator. Andy started to fidget in the now half-full lift.
“Hey, Andy.” Andy was startled out of her impatience.
She turned to her left and saw Tina from accounting looking at her.
“Oh, hey, Tina.” Andy smiled. Tina had shyly introduced herself to Andy months before as, not only a fellow Cincinnatian, but one who just happened to attend Andy’s high school a year behind Andy. They’d developed a vague friendship while chatting from time to time in line at the cafeteria.
“How are things?” Tina asked then looked over her shoulder before lowering her voice just for Andy’s ears and continued, “How’s Miranda?” Few people would have the audacity to ask Andy anything about Miranda, but Tina, strengthened by the hometown bond, was blissfully unaware of her faux pas.
Andy thought to give her rote answer, but desperate to share her burden with someone, said, “She’s getting there. I mean she’s really doing fantastic … considering.” Andy slipped her phone into her pocket and adjusted the placement of the coffees on the tray. “I mean, I doubt there’s another soul on earth who could kick this the way she has.” The clackers behind them were engrossed in a lengthy debate over the most recent liquid diet making the rounds so Andy added, “But it’s been hard.” Surprisingly, Andy started to tear up.
Tina put her hand on Andy’s arm. “Why don’t we meet for a drink after work? I can do it anytime after six o’clock.”
Andy looked into compassionate eyes. “Yeah, that’d be great. Um, I probably can’t make it until six-thirty. Is that too late for you?”
They agreed that Andy would text Tina when leaving her desk.
=========
Miranda’s first morning back at work had been nerve wracking for Andy. She’d been losing sleep over Miranda’s return not because she’d worried about Miranda’s physical condition (she had), but more because she’d worried about how Miranda would feel about what she had lost in the weeks away. Andy had known Miranda was not back at the top of her game. She’d known that Miranda still suffered deficits though she pretended she didn’t. Miranda was quite convincing that she didn’t have any, but Andy had known of Miranda’s memory loss and how much it bothered Miranda. Andy had also known that most of the lost memory was from the few days leading up to Miranda’s … incident.
Andy was still reluctant to look at what had happened in the eye. She’d been too terrified of what might have happened to acknowledge it fully. Even now, she’d wake in a cold sweat from her dreams where she relived those first hours. The dreams were fraught with dread, filled with the images of Miranda’s face contorted in pain and the sounds from the equipment around Miranda’s hospital bed magnified and multiplied to a cacophonous dissonance in Andy’s subconscious until it ripped her from fitful sleep. Often she’d dreamed of kissing Miranda and it was lovely and light when her head would be violently jerked away from Miranda’s and then she’d be falling backwards into darkness so thick and oppressive as to suffocate her. Almost beyond her view Andy would glimpse Miranda’s face growing more faint and distant as she plummeted deeper into the endless black. It took seconds and lasted forever to never hit bottom.
It had been three months since Miranda’s return to work and she had yet to acknowledge to Andy any recollection of their … moment in London. In fact, Miranda had yet to resume her usual visual assessments of Andy. Although she did give Andy certain looks which usually just involved Miranda looking directly into Andy’s eyes and, while saying nothing out loud, it was as if she was questioning something.
Now Andy sat across from Tina nursing a glass of wine. She’d related much of the nuts and bolts of what had happened leaving out the kissing part and her true feelings for Miranda.
“Gee, Andy, I had no idea,” Tina said. “That’s a lot of pressure and responsibility for one person.”
Andy said nothing, but continued to rub the stem of her wine glass between her forefinger and thumb. She gazed into the light amber liquid and tried to get the lump in her throat under control. “Yeah, I guess it has been. I just hadn’t really had time to notice just how intense it’s been.”
“But now it should be better, right? I mean, Miranda’s back to normal so your job must be back to normal, too.”
Andy reflected on just what ‘normal’ meant and found she didn’t think she could continue with this ‘normal’ much longer. She felt she was hanging in limbo waiting for Miranda to show any memory of that night. But there hadn’t been even a flicker of memory, not even a flash in her eyes when she looked at Andy, and Andy was starting to wonder how much longer she could wait without her heart being ground to dust.
Andy looked up at Tina with a somewhat forced yet bright smile. “You know what? You’re right; things are pretty much back to normal and how great is that? I mean how many people actually kick this kind of thing?” Andy took a deep breath. “Only Miranda Priestly could beat those odds.” With that she raised her glass to Tina and Andy made her decision. “So, to Miranda, huh?”
Tina tapped her glass to Andy’s, but Andy could not meet her eyes.
==============
Whoever coined the phrase ‘butterflies in stomach’ had it totally wrong. Butterflies implied something light and fluttery. What Andy was feeling in her stomach was more akin to a large herd of elephants … churning in water. Taking a deep breath, she mounted the steps to the townhouse.
“Andrea.” Miranda was in the study.
Andy finished hanging the cleaning and with the Book in hand, she walked down the hallway. “Um, hi,” Andy said as she held the Book out to Miranda.
Miranda looked up from some proofs she’d been perusing. “Oh good, you’re here.” She took the Book from Andy’s outstretched hand. “I need you to reschedule my afternoon tomorrow.”
“Okay. Anything else?” Andy asked.
“Hmm? Oh, no, nothing for now.” Miranda’s attention was already deep into the Book. “That’s all.”
“Uh, Miranda? I do have something I wanted …” Andy sputtered off when Miranda looked sharply at her, but then continued on. “Well, I wanted to give you this.” Andy reached inside her coat pocket and pulled out a white envelope.
Confused, Miranda looked at the envelope then back at Andy. Her eyes not leaving Andy’s she took it. Andy’s hands were trembling and her insides were churning (elephants) even more. “Um, I didn’t want to give it to you at the office.”
Only once Miranda opened the envelope and slid the paper out did she break eye contact. Andy was terrified. One sentence in, Miranda froze and a gasp fell from her lips as the paper dropped to the floor. “No, I won’t allow it,” Miranda’s tone was final.
“B-but Miranda,” Andy was shocked. “You’re better now and things are back to normal and I’ve been here over a year so …” Andy tapered off hoping that would be explanation enough. When Miranda said nothing, Andy continued. “Miranda there’s nothing more for me here.”
“What do you mean there’s nothing more for you here. You have --” Miranda abruptly cut off whatever she was going to say. “Fine, I’ll give you a raise. I’ll change your job title.”
Andy stared, speechless.
With a huff Miranda stood and stalked to the only window in the room. It looked out to the courtyard, but it was late and Andy knew Miranda could only see herself reflected back from the dark outside. Miranda was tense, her shoulders were hunched and her arms crossed tightly in front of her. Andy waited. After what felt like hours Miranda broke the silence. “I can’t -- I don’t remember everything,” she said. “I need you for that.” This came out as a vulnerable whisper.
Tears stung Andy’s eyes. “But Miranda you’ve remembered everything you need to. Whatever you haven’t remembered just doesn’t matter … I mean it hasn’t mattered over the past three months, right?” Andy tried to reason.
“There are gaps!” Miranda whirled back from the window. In the low light of the study Miranda looked on the verge of panic. “Don’t you understand? There are gaps where I can’t remember anything at all.”
“Miranda, the doctors said --”
“I don’t give a damn what the doctors said, Andrea.”
Andy tried again this time speaking in a softer voice. “Miranda, if something were really important it would have come up already.”
Miranda was fuming, her eyes blazing orbs. “How can you possibly know what I would consider important? Do you know what it’s been like? Do you have any idea what it’s like to know you’re missing vast moments of your life and there’s nothing you can do about it, but wait and hope --”
It was as if all the heartache and yearning Andy had suffered over the past months, all of the weeks Andy waited for any flicker of remembrance from Miranda, exploded to the surface.
“Fine.” Andy snapped then barreled ahead. “All right, Miranda, you want to know what you’ve forgotten? Do you really want to know ‘cause I’m not so sure you’re going to like it.” Andy was shaking with anger and trembling with heartbreak when she found herself invading Miranda’s personal space. Tears sprang from her eyes and Miranda looked at her in slack-jawed shock. Andy had been nothing but kind and accommodating these past months. She had been there for everything since the moment Miranda had opened her eyes in the hospital. She had been there for the doctors appointments, for the physical therapy appointments, the speech and occupational therapy appointments. She had even been Miranda for Miranda, for god’s sake, especially in those first few weeks back at the office. She’d been gentle and patient and understanding without seeming obvious or worse, cloying.
Now as Andy approached her Miranda actually recoiled. Seeing this Andy folded in on herself and stepped back out of Miranda’s space. What the hell was she doing? What was she thinking? Was she going to profess undying love to a woman who had no recollection of what had transpired between them? For all Andy knew the kiss was a side effect of the bleed. Maybe it had never even crossed Miranda’s mind to kiss her assistant. Really, did Andy really think Miranda wanted it? More likely that it was an aberration than anything else.
Horrified with her outburst, Andy turned and stumbled back to the door.
“I - I,” what Andy, you what? She looked brokenly back at Miranda who still stood by the window looking stunned. “I’m sorry,” Andy whispered then slipped out.
Andy almost made it to the front door.
“Stop!” Miranda shouted.
Andy spun around to see Miranda storming toward her.
“How dare you walk out on me like that.” Fury exuded from every pore though she no longer shouted. “How -- how dare you,” Miranda paused as if looking for a word suitable enough, “taunt me with that knowledge then walk away.” Andy retreated to the door which was now firmly at her back. There was no way she could open it to flee without stepping into Miranda’s space who was now not even two feet from Andy. “And here I thought, obviously mistakenly, that you really cared about my welfare, Andrea. That you were invested in my recovery for whatever purpose.” Miranda stepped a foot back from Andrea and let her eyes rake up and down Andy’s form then scathingly whispered, “Imagine my disappointment, Andrea, that you are no more loyal or caring than any of those other silly girls I hire.” Neither woman said a word more until Miranda gave her one more long considering stare then breathed a “that’s all,” as she turned to walk away from Andy.
Reacting on instinct alone because it certainly wasn’t on intelligence, Andy lunged forward grabbing Miranda’s shoulder. Spinning her around Andy immediately started in. “Okay, Miranda, you win. Here’s what you’ve forgotten.” Andy’s voice shook with the all memories and emotions of the last months. “We used to look at each other, Miranda, do you remember that? Huh?” Miranda looked startled and confused. “No? You don’t? Well, we did. We looked and we watched each other every day for months,” Andy all but yelped. “In fact, Miranda, we couldn’t keep our eyes off each other.” Hot tears coursed down Andy’s cheeks. She swiped at them with the back of her hand. “Do you remember any of that, Miranda, do you? Because I do and I have to watch you every day not remember and -- and not look at me that way.”
Mortified, Andy looked away then down at her hands which were wringing each other. “You talk about waiting and hoping, Miranda; well, I’ve been waiting and hoping, too.” Andy hesitated a fraction then looked back up at Miranda. “That you’d remember that night.” Andy reached her hand up and placed it on the side of Miranda’s face. Miranda didn’t move. “That you’d remember this.” Andy ran her hand around the back of Miranda’s neck and gently pulled her forward then kissed her just briefly and softly. Dropping her hand, Andy regarded Miranda quietly. “Yeah, that’s what you forgot, Miranda.” Andy then turned, opened the door and stepped out into the night.
She didn’t look back.
To be concluded in part 2b