FIC: Pyrotechnics - Embers Drive Series
As with many old friends who lose touch, Emily and Andy only seemed to find each other in times of extreme crisis or in moments of celebration. In the interim, they composed emails that were dull, unembellished testimonies to their lives. Long distance phone calls were avoided, not because of the costs, but because what could be said was already written down in an electronic message that was as impersonal as the screen showing it.
Apparently, running out of words wasn’t impossible when small talk had been kept so small that the itinerary reports were more interesting than actual attempts at conversation. Yet still, they insisted on sending out the messages because no matter how mundane, they still offered connection. They became promises of longevity and determination, and were evidence to the fact that neither of them were trying to erase their history but were merely attempting to move past it.
I think it’s time I request an assistant, Emily wrote, or at least find an intern I can properly intimidate. Raymond is insisting I take maternity leave, so I can only hope making an effort to lessen my workload will be a fair enough compromise. He’s being very irritating, but since this is our first child, I do find it in my heart to forgive his coddling. He has already proven to be an excellent parent, and I fear he will always outshine me in that regard.
By the way, she continued, my father has died, and my mother insists on holding the funeral as soon as possible .Your attendance is required. Instead of signing with love, she didn’t sign it at all. She sent the message knowing that since death was a form of crisis she would be seeing Andy very soon.
“I just got off the phone with your mother,” Raymond announced as he shuffled into his wife’s office, their newborn daughter held firmly in his arms.
“You did?” Emily closed her laptop, and then leaned back in her chair, her face giving way to no particular emotion at all.
“She told me about your father.” He said the words plainly enough, but there was still a hint of judgment behind them. He didn’t have to ask why Emily had chosen to run away to her office instead of coming to him when she had first come home. He knew she would have contacted Andy first. “I guess I should get the guestroom ready for Andy. Do you think Miranda will be joining her?”
It was hard for Emily to tell whether Raymond was offering his acceptance or just biting back his bitterness at the fact that he was once again coming in second place to Andrea Sachs. “I honestly don’t know.”
He nodded, and shifted their daughter in his arms, obviously unsure of what else he could say. He would offer his wife the opportunity to cry on his shoulder, but again he knew it was more likely she wouldn’t shed a tear until Andy walked through their front door. “Your father was an interesting guy,” he muttered. “I’ll miss him.” He crossed the distance that was left between them, and unexpectedly held their daughter out for Emily to take.
Automatically, Emily’s arms reached out to take hold of the baby. She pulled her daughter in close to her body, and then looked down into the blue eyes that she knew were mirror images of her own. It was the only physical feature she thought they shared, because in every other way Olivia was exactly like her father. She had his caramel tinted skin, his dark hair, wide smile, and dimpled cheeks.
“I’ll leave you two alone,” Raymond whispered, not wanting to stomp onto the moment of peace that had fallen upon his wife as she held their daughter in her arms. He kissed Emily on the forehead, and as he pulled away reminded his wife that he was there for her if she needed him. He then walked out of the office, making sure to close the door behind him.
Emily watched him leave, part of her wanting to call him back, but she didn’t know how to be vulnerable with him since she had so often sought Andy out for emotional support. “Your father is a good man,” she told her daughter in a broken whisper. “We’re both lucky to have him.” She hadn’t blindly decided to marry him, though more than one person inferred that she had. She knew what she was getting into, and knew Raymond was just the type of man she could spend her life with.
They had met when Emily was still running around New York as Miranda’s first assistant. She had been getting Miranda’s coffee and had been unlucky enough to spill the hot beverage on a complete stranger. He accepted her apologies, replaced the spilt coffee, and had helped her carry her load back to Runway. Emily had found him to be completely boring and borderline insufferable, but he was handsome and persistent. He made a point of hanging out at Starbucks just so he could buy Miranda’s coffee and silently help Emily with the load she was expected to carry on her own.
Eventually, Emily grew accustomed to his presence, and when she had been promoted she gave him her phone number so that he could still be present even though she’d be making no more coffee runs on Miranda’s behalf. He was the complete opposite of what she wanted in a partner. He wasn’t suave or rich. His words often came out jumbled making him sound like a dunce, though he was actually incredibly intelligent. He was patient and, if Emily were completely honest, she’d say he reminded her of Andy when Andy had first walked through the doors of Runway.
Of course, there were noticeable differences. Raymond was a songwriter whose ambition was only to find a life he could be content with, while Andy’s ambition forced her to work incredibly long hours in an attempt to accumulate enough power to affect change. Raymond’s idea of changing the world came in the form of hanging out in coffee houses and performing spoken word poetry to a small group of people that he hoped would listen to his messages. He was okay with Emily making more money than him, and was even happy to stay at home with Olivia while Emily was out furthering her career.
And Andy, well she wouldn’t have been okay with staying at home to care for a child while the big wide world was out there ready to be explored and discovered. Emily suspected that was the real reason why Miranda and Andy had never followed through with their plans to have a child. Neither of them was selfless enough to put aside their own agendas to focus on expanding their family. They had never been able to find the right time.
Emily ran the back of her hand down her daughter’s cheek, realizing that she and Raymond hadn’t really found the right time either. They hadn’t talked about children and weren’t focused on making a family. It had snuck up on them, and Emily hadn’t wanted to turn her back on it. She doubted she would make a great mother, but she was certain that Raymond would make a great father and wouldn’t deny him the opportunity to prove it.
Olivia had been conceived shortly after the week Emily had spent with Andy in London. Emily often laughed at the fact that if she had been carrying on an affair with a man, then she most likely wouldn’t have known who Olivia’s father was. Though, she could only imagine what it would be like if Olivia was in fact Andy’s. She tried to imagine how they would have gotten through the pregnancy, hoping that Andy would have been as patient with her as Raymond had been. She would have hoped that Andy would have been there for the birth, as Raymond had been refusing to leave her side.
“It’s all pointless, you know,” she told her daughter. “I can’t really compare the two of them.”
Olivia’s eyes focused on her mother’s, completely captivated by the sound of Emily’s voice though there was no connection to the words.
“But is it really so wrong of me to want her arms around me instead of your father’s? Is it wrong that I want her voice to be the one to tell me that everything is going to be alright?”
Olivia yawned, but offered no other answers, not that Emily had expected any. “When she comes,” Emily continued her one sided conversation, “it’ll be the first time you’ll meet. She’s seen pictures, of course, but she couldn’t come to see you right after you were born. It’s difficult for us to be a part of each other’s lives, but she’ll be here for the funeral.”
Her cell phone rang then, and she maneuvered the baby so that she could answer the phone. She had hardly been able to say hello before Andy’s voice was telling her that tickets for the next flight out had already been purchased. She’d be on the plane in fifteen minutes.
“And Miranda?” Emily asked.
“She’s coming with me, of course.”
Of course? Emily snorted. Miranda would come, ‘of course’. She had seen more of Miranda over the last year than she had seen of Andy. Miranda was technically no longer her boss, but they did frequent the same big fashion events of the year. They could have pretended like they didn’t know each other, but neither of them had chosen to do that. They talked as if they were old friends, and would even meet up for dinner if time permitted.
“Then, I look forward to seeing you both.” She hung up the phone, knowing that her only lifeline would be her daughter resting in her arms. She leaned down, placed a soft kiss on her daughter’s forehead, and then when she sat back up, she once again began confessing to her daughter things she could confess to no one else. She told her daughter how she and Andy had met. She told her about how they didn’t even know they were meant for each other until after Andy had been married for over a year. She explained that their friendship had grown into love, and how they were now trying to turn love back into friendship. She kept talking even after Olivia fell asleep in her arms, and only stopped when Olivia awoke hungry and in need of a new diaper.
She saw to Olivia’s needs, and then spent the rest of her night in the nursery looking down at her baby girl resting happily in her arms. The moment had become the longest uninterrupted time she had spent with her daughter alone, and she wondered why she had previously been so afraid of the small child who stared at her with bright innocent blue eyes.
“You look like a natural.” Andy’s voice didn’t startle her; she had been expecting the intrusion. She had noticed the night turning into day, and had known that the only voice that would break through her haze would be Andy’s. “Raymond said you’ve been holding her all night.”
Emily finally took her eyes off of her daughter, but didn’t look over at the woman standing inside the doorway. She instead looked out the nearby window, not quite sure what she was supposed to say or do now that reality was once again standing in front of her. So, she said nothing.
Andy closed the open door, and then moved so that she could take a seat on the floor at Emily’s feet. Emily looked down at her then, taking note of the wrinkled clothes, the unkempt hair, makeup-less face, and bloodshot eyes. Andy looked like hell, but Emily knew that if she looked in a mirror she would discover that she looked no better.
Andy reached up and rested her right hand on Emily’s thigh. Emily looked down at it, immediately noticing that the ring she had given Andy was no longer being worn.
“It’s here,” Andy said as her free hand reached into her shirt to pull out the ring she wore on a chain around her neck. Emily ran her eyes across Andy’s skin, impressed with how perfectly the platinum chain matched the ring. She had had the same jeweler who made the ring, make the necklace, and then sent it off to Andy as a belated Christmas present. As much as she wanted Andy to continue to wear her ring, she knew Miranda wouldn’t remain forever silent about her wife wearing another woman’s ring. So, the necklace was an exceedingly expensive compromise. Though, she knew Miranda was probably no happier about the necklace than she had been about the ring, but she wasn’t truly concerned about making Miranda happy.
She then looked back down at the warm hand resting on her thigh, and instantly decided that she liked the ring better when it was on Andy’s finger. Rings weren’t meant to be hidden away underneath clothing, and, like any other selfish lover, Emily wanted to be able to look at Andy and instantly see the ring that let everyone know a part of Andy actually did belong to her.
She suddenly had the urge to look down at her own hands, where she knew there would be no rings. Raymond hadn’t been conventional enough to give her a ring at their wedding. Instead, he had kept to his own Native traditions and brought an ornate basket filled with blue corn mush to their ceremony. She had known what she was getting into, especially since he had explained when he asked her to marry him that an expensive ring would not make her his wife. She had been able to keep the basket, though, and his mother had given them a hand woven white blanket that Raymond insisted they hang in the nursery.
She looked over at the blanket now, knowing that it was all Raymond needed to represent their union. As long as it remained whole, then their marriage would last. Unlike the ring, it was simple. It couldn’t be tucked away and hidden underneath clothing. It didn’t mean anything more when placed on one finger rather than another. The blanket should have been enough for her, but it wasn’t, because she had willingly chosen the complications entwined with the ring now hanging around Andy’s neck.
Emily stood up and moved towards her daughter’s crib, finally ready to put Olivia down. Andy moved with her, and placed a brave arm around Emily’s waist. They both looked down at the infant who looked confused as why she was no longer in her mother’s arms. Emily wanted to pick her child back up, but her arms were fatigued and there was no way she could hold onto her baby girl forever.
“She’s beautiful,” Andy said as she pulled Emily’s body closer to her own. “She looks just like you.”
Emily turned so that she was facing the woman holding her. Since London, they had kept a necessary physical distance. Hardly seeing each other helped with that, but when they were in each other’s presence they kept everything bizarrely friendly. They didn’t invade each other’s personal space and did their best to hug without actually touching. They tried so hard to keep apart so that no unintentional fireworks would be set off through the casual touch of their skin.
Emily knew she had told Andy to come, and they both understood she was not asking for her friend to make an appearance. She was asking for her lover, and in the few minutes that they had shared each other’s presence, she knew Andy was willing to be all that Emily wanted. Andy would hold her and love her, and help her move past these beginning moments of grief. They were giving each other permission to break down all physical barriers and were willing to put on a show of pyrotechnics neither had experienced since London.
She cupped Andy’s face in her hands, and then slowly leaned forward until her lips were pressing softly against Andy’s. She stayed there for too short a moment before she pulled back, dropped her hands away from Andy’s face, and then stepped out of Andy’s hold. “Thank you for coming,” she whispered. “I’ll love you forever for it.” Then, she walked away and left Andy alone with Olivia.
She passed Miranda in the hallway, but said nothing. Instead, she sought out her husband who was sitting on their bed in their bedroom. She closed the bedroom door, and then joined him. She wrapped his arms around her body, buried her face into his shoulder and cried. She was not interested in complications or sharing her grief with a person she only saw when times were either really good or really bad. She wanted to share it with the person who was always there, not caring that this time she would be missing out on the fancy display of pyrotechnics. Fireworks, she reasoned, were too often overrated.