New fic: Keeping Christmas, PG-13, Miranda/Andy, Part V
Title: Keeping Christmas
Author: chilly_flame
Rating: PG-13 for the occasional curse
Pairing: Miranda/Andy
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything related to the Devil or Prada, alas. I don’t own “A Christmas Carol” either, which is even sadder.
Notes: Many thanks to politic_x for the firm nudge in the direction of this prompt, although it took about ten days longer to finish than I’d hoped. Also, huge thanks to Xander, who guided me through a journey that was far more challenging than I anticipated.
The Christmas Cracker ficathon prompt: Miranda/Andy - A Christmas Carol take off, girlie_girl_23. Hope it’s something you like!
Part V.
When Miranda sits up and looks around, the first thing she notices is the light. It’s pale and gentle coming from the windows all around her. It’s dawn, perhaps, but what day is it? She scrambles to find her phone, buried somewhere in papers on her desk. As she leans over, she realizes her back is stiff and her shoulders are sore, as though she slept all night in her chair. There is crust at the corner of her eyes. She wipes it away, and finally discovers the phone. Clicking it on, she reads,
Fri, Dec 25. 6:42am.
“Ah!” she exclaims, her hand covering her mouth as if to contain her joy. She looks around, searching for changes, but everything is exactly as she left it the night before. “My god, please let this be real.” She rushes out of her office to Andrea’s desk-its surface is utterly pristine, but when she pulls the top drawer open, it’s filled with papers and knickknacks, and a photo of Andrea with two people who are likely her parents. She picks up the framed image, and carefully sets it on the desk, positioning it next to the computer monitor. Andrea shouldn’t have to keep a photo of her family inside her desk; what a silly rule.
Looking around the office, she feels her chest opening up, as if expanding to fit more inside-more air, more happiness, more love. This is the day she will change, and whether her experience was real or not, she will take advantage. Because the future she saw is not an option. An empty life, passed down to her children.
But she is wasting time-she has so many things to do now that it’s Christmas Day. She has presents to wrap, and a train to catch.
---
She is smiling when she arrives at the door, though she does not expect to be welcomed with open arms. But her earlier feelings of gratitude and pleasurable relief have not faded at all. In fact, they may even have grown stronger as she wrapped the presents she’d asked Andrea to purchase for her children. She had intended to have them professionally done, but time got away from her. This morning, spending a solid hour lovingly wrapping the gifts had calmed her, and gave her the time to plan her day. The Book is at home on her desk, untouched, where it will stay for the next three days. She has other things to accomplish at the moment.
The door opens, and Jeremy is so surprised to see her that it’s comical. “Um, Miranda?”
“Jeremy, I just want fifteen minutes with them,” she begins, cutting off whatever he might say. “I’m sorry for showing up unannounced, but I’ve made some mistakes recently and I only want to see them and leave their gifts. I won’t cause trouble and I swear, I’ll be perfectly civil. All right?”
“Uh,” he says, his brow creasing in confusion, until Angela appears behind him.
“Miranda!” Angela says, smiling. “We weren’t expecting you. Come in!”
“Thank you,” she replies, pushing past Jeremy, who does not move even after Miranda has gotten all the way into the house. “I’m sorry I didn’t call ahead, but I was certain Jeremy would say no. I just want to see my girls-“
And then Cassidy and Caroline, each still miraculously aged 12, rush into the hallway.
“Mom!” Caroline cries, and the delight on her face makes all the effort to get here this morning worth it. “You’re here!”
“Yes, Bobbsey,” Miranda says, dropping her bags on the floor and kneeling as her beautiful and very much alive daughter rushes into her arms. “I’m here,” she whispers, and can’t help the tears that come to her eyes. She holds Caroline close, smelling her skin, her hair, the sleepy scent of her nightgown. “Merry Christmas, Caroline.”
Cassidy stays back, watching with suspicion. Miranda understands this hesitation better now than she ever has. Keeping Caroline in her arms, she holds out a hand, beckoning her near. “I’m sorry for everything, my darling.” She takes a shaky breath. “Can you forgive me?”
Cassidy looks down at the floor and shrugs. “I guess.”
“No more empty promises,” Miranda assures her. “I love you, and you won’t have any trouble knowing that from now on,” she finishes. That seems to convince Cassidy, who comes toward her with the beginnings of a smile on her face.
It shouldn’t be this easy, but it is. Cassidy falls into her arms, and Miranda is trembling as tears stream down her cheeks. “Merry Christmas, my girls.”
The minutes are long as she kneels and holds them--long enough for her position to become painful, but she ignores the ache. Only the feeling of a small hand tugging at her cream skirt causes her to look down. Anjelica is smiling up at the three of them, and she wants to be included. Caroline laughs and leans down, picking the baby up. Anjelica waves her hands toward Miranda’s face and immediately throws her upper body toward her; Miranda takes the child before she can fall. Her hands pat Miranda’s face a little harder than comfortable, but Miranda doesn’t mind, enjoying the feel of her tiny, wriggling body. Cassidy and Caroline hover around her making goofy faces until Jeremy finally interrupts them.
“Miranda, do you want to come in?” he says uncertainly.
“Yeah, Mom, come in! We were going to eat, because we just finished the presents,” Caroline says. “Are you hungry? I don’t have my presents here for you, they’re at home. Maybe we can have another Christmas when we get back. Okay?”
Miranda says, “I was only going to stay for a few minutes-“
“You’re staying,” Angela shouts from the other room. “Breakfast is on the table, come on in before it gets cold.”
Miranda meets Jeremy’s eyes, silently asking permission. To her relief, he nods, and sighs. Miranda grins, and stands rather ungracefully with Cassidy’s help. The baby clings to her as they make their way to the dining room, where Angela has already added another place setting. Miranda goes into the kitchen, ready to help, but Angela shoos her out with the directive, “The baby’s taken a shine to you, so your new job is keeping her out of my hair. Enjoy.”
Miranda thinks this is not a fair trade, but she returns to the table and keeps the baby on her lap as the girls sit on either side of her. “Mom, why did you come?” Cassidy asks.
Miranda looks over at her daughter, and holds out a hand. “I missed you. I love you more than anyone in the world, and I couldn’t bear to spend a single Christmas without you. So, here I am.”
“But we thought you were busy at work,” Caroline says. “You said-“
“Work is overrated,” Miranda replies, turning back to Anjelica and making a face. “Who’s a good girl?” she coos at the baby. “Who’s a very good girl?”
Out of the corner of her eye, Miranda sees Caroline and Cassidy share a look of confusion, but she ignores it.
To her surprise, the baby is content to spend the entire breakfast on her lap, and she still gets to enjoy the meal. Cassidy and Caroline seem to immediately forgive her for her long-standing neglect; they soak up her attention like sponges. Angela remains far nicer than Miranda deserves, and Jeremy just watches in disbelief as she interacts with his family as though she belongs here.
After a delicious meal of eggs, bacon, toast and fruit, all of which Miranda inhales as though she hasn’t eaten for a year, she drags her bags of gifts into the room. Jeremy insists that everyone else stay seated as he carries the dirty dishes into the kitchen, so Miranda takes the time to pass out the presents.
Earlier, she was at a loss as to what to bring for Angela and Jeremy, until she realized there was an entire stash of unopened gifts from work in her closet. It took her fifteen minutes to go through them all, but she did find a few things that would suit even as regifts. She included that information on the tags-she wouldn’t want them to feel badly for giving her nothing in return. But it’s a reasonable gesture considering she’d shown up unannounced.
Angela is shocked at the dozen Hermes scarves she receives; some are plain, while others are printed with beautiful designs. Miranda chose those she would have kept for herself, because she has hundreds already. Jeremy is speechless at the Cartier watch Miranda has no use for, since both men’s and women’s versions were dropped off on Monday this week. She enjoys their surprise as much as she does the squeals and cheers as the girls open their own presents. Andrea shopped extremely well for both of them. She’ll have to thank her for that. She was able to carry a portion of the gifts with her on the train, but the rest are at the townhouse under the tree. They’ll keep.
When all the gifts are open, and the wrapping paper is spread out on the floor, Miranda hands Angela a small gift for Anjelica. “It’s just something small,” she says, and Angela pulls the baby into her lap so she can help open it. Inside is a tiny silver rattle, along with a cashmere baby blanket that’s been gathering dust in her attic for a decade. “I didn’t want to come without anything for her.”
“They’re beautiful, Miranda,” Angela says as Anjelica shakes the rattle with glee. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” She holds out a hand and Anjelica takes one finger. “She is such a sweet girl.”
Cassidy comes to stand next to Miranda, who wraps an arm around her. Caroline joins them, cuddling in on her other side, so Miranda pulls away from the baby’s strong grip to hold her too. Caroline’s warm head lands on Miranda’s shoulder, and for a moment, she flashes back to the moment she learned of her death. She squeezes her daughter tightly, and kisses her cheek.
Miranda stays for another hour, listening to the girls tell stories of their vacation, and the weeks leading up to it. Only when Miranda checks her phone does she realize that in order to make her second stop, she ought to head out.
She says her goodbyes with Jeremy and Angela, and Anjelica too. Jeremy is serious as he tells her, “I don’t know what happened to you, Miranda, and I can’t say I was happy to see you, but I’m glad you came. The girls have-they’ve missed you.”
She touches his arm sadly. “I know. I’ve been-well, suffice it to say I’ve ignored them for far too long. You’ve been there for them, taking care of things when I haven’t.” Although it feels awkward, she leans forward and hugs him. “Thank you.”
There’s a long moment; she can feel him catching his breath. “You’re welcome.”
“And you too, Angela. I can’t thank you enough for treating them as if they were your own.”
“It’s easy,” Angela replies. “But you’re welcome. You’ll have to come back and visit Anjelica-I think she’d be broken hearted if you don’t come around once in a while.”
Miranda nudges the baby’s cheek. “I may do that.”
The girls don’t want her to go. Caroline offers to go back to New York with her, and of course Cassidy follows suit. But Miranda assures them that they’ll have another Christmas tomorrow, and she’ll pick them up in person at the train station bright and early.
“You mind your father, and take care of each other,” Miranda tells them firmly. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you both so much.”
“Love you too, Mom,” they echo, hugging her tightly. She fights tears as she walks through the door and out into the frosty air.
---
On the train back to the city, Miranda doesn’t spare a single look for anyone around her. Instead, she focuses only on her phone as she searches for the name that’s been floating in her mind for much of the morning.
Finally, after digging through the alumni website, she finds what she’s looking for. With a deep breath, she dials.
After three rings, someone picks up. “Hello?”
“Hello,” Miranda says, her voice cracking. “I’m looking for Janie Masterson.”
There is a long pause. “Who’s calling?”
Miranda takes a breath and gets the guts up to say it. “This is Miranda Priestly. I just-I’m trying to touch base with Janie. Or Jane, perhaps.”
“Miranda,” the voice on the other line exhales, and Miranda knows right away that this is Janie, the girl who loved her, and maybe the girl she loved too. “Miranda? Is this really you?”
Miranda swallows and presses a hand to the cool window, watching the snowy landscape rush by. “Yes. I know this is ridiculous, calling on Christmas, but you-something happened to me yesterday, and I thought of you.” She is convinced that she sounds like a crazy person, but she barrels forward. “Thirty years ago, I made a mistake. I can’t undo it, but I just… wanted to tell you I’m sorry. And that I regret the way I treated you. I always have.”
Just getting the words out and off her chest makes her feel lighter. It might be crazy, and ridiculous, but it’s the right thing.
“My god, Miranda, I-I’m stunned. I hardly know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. You don’t owe me a thing. You can go back to your family-I won’t keep you-“
“Wait a second!” Janie exclaims, laughing. “Give me a minute to catch up. I might not know what to say, but I can tell that this is important to you, and to me too. God,” she says, and moments pass in silence.
There’s a noise in the background, and Janie says in a low voice, “I won’t be long, it’s okay,” before returning to Miranda. “My family’s here, two of my brothers, and my wife, and our kids. But I want so much to know what happened that brought all this up.” She laughs again. “Think you can give me the short version?”
Miranda smiles, and sits back against the seat. Over the next twenty minutes, she talks around the “ghost” thing, but explains how she’s been thinking about her life and her past. She also goes on to say that she might have some… feelings… for a woman in her life, but she neglects to mention her age or particular position. Janie listens, and when Miranda’s done, she tells her own story of the years it took for her to come to terms with being a lesbian, of the relationships that came and went until she met Melissa, her wife. To Miranda’s surprise, they have twin girls as well, almost ten years old.
“You broke my heart, Miranda,” Janie says, “but I got over it.” Miranda chuckles; in her mind’s eye she can see the sly grin on Janie’s face. “Took a while, but I survived. But I gotta tell you, it’s marvelous to hear your voice. You were my best friend, and I hated losing you.”
“You were my best friend too,” Miranda whispers, closing her eyes.
They spend another few minutes on the phone, and Miranda promises to call her in the new year. And when Janie asks if maybe she and Melissa can go on a double date with Miranda and her sweetheart, Miranda demurs, pleading that nothing’s happened yet.
“Oh it will, Miranda. Of all the people I’ve ever met, you’re the one who always gets what she wants. So if you want this woman, you’ll get her. It’s only a matter of time.”
The thought gives Miranda a little thrill. “We’ll see,” she says, hoping.
---
Miranda is more nervous about this particular visit than she’s been about any others today. She actually stands in front of the security buzzers for a full minute, waiting to get the courage up to buzz the one labeled “4F.” When she finally holds up a hand, two people push the door open from the inside, smiling as they glance up at the snow falling from the sky. They barely notice Miranda, who reaches out and grabs the door before it closes.
Slowly she climbs the four flights, pausing to catch her breath twice. She tells herself this is only because she’s carrying so many bags, and not because her heart is pounding in anticipation.
When she finally stands in front of the door, she says to herself, “Don’t be an idiot,” and knocks hard on the wood.
There are noisy footsteps, and the door flies open. “Ring the bell, why don’t… you.” In front of her is Lily, Andrea’s friend. “Holy shit,” she says, staring at Miranda with an open mouth.
“Is it Nigel?” Andrea calls from the kitchen.
“Hello, Lily,” Miranda says, holding out a hand. Without thinking, Lily reaches out and they shake hands. “Is the lady of the house available?” She’s impressed that she sounds completely relaxed.
“Uh, yeah. But she’s… well, shit. Come on in, I guess.” Lily turns around and ignores Miranda as she retreats to the kitchen, so Miranda follows.
“What?” she hears Andrea shout. “Stop fucking around, Lil. Who is it?”
And when Miranda turns the corner, Andrea is standing over an enormous pot at the stove, a potato masher in her hand. When her eyes meet Miranda’s, they both freeze. “Oh,” Andrea says, and it’s almost like a sigh. “Wow. Hi.”
“Merry Christmas,” Miranda says, and her knees feel only a little weak. She holds up her bags, filled with enough wine and champagne to keep them all soused for days. There are also a few gifts that they can distribute amongst themselves, except one that will go to Andrea, when they have a moment alone. “I have no place else to go, Andrea. Will you take me in?”
“Of course, Miranda,” Andrea says, rushing forward with the masher held aloft, her apron covered in stains. “You’re totally welcome.” When Andrea is nearly on top of her, she realizes what she’s doing and stops just in time. Pulling off her bowling ball apron, she passes the kitchen tool to Lily. She reaches out as if to take the bags, but Miranda only sets them down. Instead, she takes Andrea’s hands in her own, and steps forward.
“I knew you’d say that,” Miranda says softly. And then, as their fingers tangle together, the air changes, and Andrea can feel it too. There’s a spark, that thing that’s been stewing between them for so many months. It’s real, as real as anything she’s ever felt. And she won’t let it go, not if people laugh or sneer or try and destroy her for it.
“Uh, I gotta go make a call,” Lily says, and she disappears from the kitchen.
Miranda nods toward the stove. “You’re cooking for a crowd?” Miranda asks.
“Yes, there are seven of us. Or, eight now. I’m so glad you’re here, Miranda. I’ve been worried.”
“You were right to be,” Miranda says. “I’ve been having a difficult time.” It’s not hard to admit this to Andrea, whose eyes are so kind, so open. “But I’m better now-happier.” Miranda squeezes her hands, and her heart is loud in her ears.
“You do seem… different.” Andrea tilts her head. “And you’re smiling.”
Miranda’s smile grows at that. “I am.”
Andrea’s lip curls into a disbelieving grin. “You don’t smile very often, Miranda, and certainly not at me.”
Miranda blinks slowly. “That… is going to change. Starting today.”
The tension simmering between them rises again, and as Andrea steps close, the door buzzer rings. Andrea jumps, gasping, and chuckles. “That’s probably Nigel. He promised to bring the green beans-I forgot them.”
“You’ve had a great deal to do, if I’m not mistaken. Didn’t you do Christmas Eve dinner as well?”
Andrea’s eyes pop open. “How did you know?”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ve spoken of it at the office. Word gets around.” Miranda hopes this isn’t totally off base.
“Right, right,” Andrea says, her frown vanishing in an instant. “I’ll be back in a second. Um, make yourself at home, okay? Do you need a snack or something?”
“Go, Andrea. I’m fine. We have plenty of time,” she assures her, and the words help Miranda calm down as well. She has plenty of time-days and weeks and years.
Nigel is talking about how crazy it was at the market the night before when he went to get the beans, but he stops short when he spies Miranda opening a bottle of wine.
“Andy,” he says, taking his glasses off and rubbing them on his tie, “is that Miranda in your kitchen?”
“Yes, it is,” Andrea says with a huge smile.
“Will wonders never cease,” he says, and looks up. He watches her, as if considering his next words very carefully. “You here off the clock?” he asks.
“Yes,” Miranda replies. She snags a glass from the table and pours. “We all are.” Just to make it clear.
He takes the glass and hoists it in her direction. “Well done, Miranda.”
She pours another three glasses for the guests, and hands them around. “Is there an apron I can wear? I don’t want you overmashing the potatoes,” she adds.
Andrea’s eyebrows lift, but she takes the masher away from Lily, who’s been carrying it around. “Go for it.”
---
Miranda helps Andrea with everything; she has cooked very few turkeys in her life, but she is adept at reading directions. Lily helps too, and only once is Miranda caught off guard in conversation.
“How’d you know my name?” Lily asks Miranda, as she is chopping celery. When Miranda looks up, Lily continues, “When you came to the door, you knew me right away. But we’ve never met.”
Miranda blinks, and lies smoothly. “Andrea’s spoken of you, of course. I’m sure I’ve seen your picture… Somewhere. Don’t you run a gallery?” Miranda has no idea where she pulls this detail from; she must have picked it up from a conversation between Andrea and Nigel.
Andrea has a strange look on her face as she watches Miranda, but doesn’t say anything. Miranda can almost see her filing away the detail in the back of her mind, and considers how long it will be before she asks about it.
By the time the dinner is ready, everyone has arrived. Emily and Serena are still awkward around Miranda in this social environment, but Nigel’s boyfriend Pierre is charming. He does much to keep the conversation flowing, as does Doug, who Miranda likes a great deal. His knowledge of fashion and finance pique her interest, and they enjoy a long chat about IPOs before Miranda’s phone rings.
When she glances at the display, she inhales in anticipation. “Excuse me, I have to take this. It’s my brother.”
Nigel does nothing to hide his shock; he knows that Miranda almost never speaks to either of her half-siblings. But on the train, after her conversation with Janie, she took a chance and left a message on Max’s voicemail. She isn’t sure if Alec is with him, but perhaps she’ll find out.
“Hello?” Miranda says, biting her lip.
“Miriam!” Max declares, his voice loud and cheerful in her ear. “I can’t believe it you called! Alec and I were just talking about you yesterday, wondering how you were.”
At the sound of the voice she hears so rarely, Miranda is overcome. She leaves the boisterous kitchen in favor of the quieter sitting room, though it offers little privacy. She sits in the overstuffed chair, despite the fact that it needs to be put out on the curb as soon as possible. “I’m fine, Max. I’m glad to hear back from you. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Miri--er, Miranda. Sorry about that.”
“It’s all right, I don’t mind,” Miranda says, and for once in her life, it’s true. Max, and Alec, and Miriam are a part of her past, part of what makes her who she is today. And that’s enough. “Is Alec with you?”
“Yes, he and the kids came in from Colorado yesterday, so I have a full house.” There’s a short pause. “I’m sorry I didn’t invite you.”
She chokes out a laugh. “Max, I have been the most absent sister in the history of the world. I wouldn’t have expected a Christmas card, much less a phone call. But I-I’ve been thinking of you both a bit. Wondering if it’s too late, you know?”
She hears Max sigh. “No, Miranda. It’s not too late.” There’s a shuffling sound over the line before she hears, “Al, get on the phone and talk to your sister,” he says.
A matching voice joins Max, and Miranda smiles. “Miranda? We were just talking about you yesterday!” Alec repeats.
“So I heard,” she replies, and relaxes back into the seat.
They don’t talk long-maybe ten minutes. It’s a nice conversation, and maybe the beginning of something familial after so many years of silence. When Miranda hangs up, she remains in the chair that has turned out to be absurdly comfortable. No wonder Andrea hasn’t thrown it out. It feels good to sit here, alone, drifting in thought. So much activity and socializing and opening herself up has taken a toll, but it’s a pleasant kind of fatigue.
“Miranda?” Andrea says softly, startling her. She kneels at Miranda’s feet. “Everything okay?”
“Yes,” Miranda says, swallowing thickly when Andrea reaches up to brush a tear from the corner of her eye. “Really. I’m fine.”
“It’s hard to believe you-you seem so…”
“…Not myself?” Miranda answers for her.
Andrea shrugs. “I’m not sure. I only know a tiny part of you, I think, so it’s not for me to say.”
Miranda takes Andrea’s hand in hers once more. “You know me better than that.” Looking into Andrea’s dark eyes, Miranda feels better than she has in ages. It’s time to show her cards. “You know what’s in my heart.”
The words seem to steal Andrea’s breath. Her eyelashes flutter as she bites her lower lip. “I do?”
Miranda nods. “You are,” she finally says, and leans forward. Andrea meets her halfway, and their mouths touch in a tender kiss. When they part, Miranda is trembling, and Andrea is too; she can see the racing of the pulse in her throat. Once more, she moves in, and this kiss is softer, more pliant, but just as sweet as the first. Andrea pulls Miranda’s hand to her chest, cradling it gently.
“Andy?” someone calls from the kitchen. “I don’t want the potatoes to dry out. Do we need to add some milk?”
Slowly, Andrea’s lips leave Miranda’s, though neither of them is in much of a hurry. “That’s a good way to start,” Andrea says, her face filled with pleasure. She is transformed, and Miranda once again wonders what took her so long to embrace the joy of life.
“Very good,” Miranda agrees, and they both stand and return to the kitchen. Nigel eyes them both with a curious uncertainty, and Miranda just shakes her head and looks away. He’ll draw the news out of her easily enough, but not tonight.
“We should say some sort of thing before we start, shouldn’t we?” Emily asks, the wine finally having loosened her up. “Grace or something?” She leans against Serena, who looks very satisfied with the attention.
“No time,” Doug says, slicing the turkey with enthusiasm, if not skill. “I like my holiday dinner piping hot!”
“Oh, there’s time for a little toast,” Andrea corrects him, pulling Miranda’s chair out for her before they sit next to one another. “I’ll just say that Christmas is a time for friends and family, and I’m grateful to have you all around my table. I’m especially glad to have some new faces here,” at this she glances at Miranda, “to make the day more wonderful. So before I get too long-winded, I’ll wrap up with a line from one of my favorite stories-“
“Scrooged!” Lily and Doug bellow in unison.
“Stop it!” Andrea laughs, trying not to spill her wine. “No, it’s from A Christmas Carol.” She clears her throat. “A Merry Christmas to us all, my dears. God bless us.” Beneath the table, Miranda finds Andrea’s fingers. With their hands tightly clasped, Miranda closes her eyes and waits for the words she’s known were coming all along.
“God bless us, every one.”
~the end