It's All Relative 22
Author: hawkbehere (hawkbehere2@yahoo.com)
Rated PG
Summary: The typical bore and snore.
A/N: Rosemary would kick me for calling her a beta but I love and thank her for about 10 million reasons that are so manifestly obvious that the least of them is giving this the once-over twice. All mistakes are mine. Apologies for the massive delay. If you knew my life, you’d understand why and probably better than I do, frankly.
***
Dinner was relatively pleasant. The presence of the children was, of course, the critical factor in its success. Andy was aware that no one knew this better than Caroline and Cassidy. Having been raised to eat during the beginning or even during the middle of pitched battles between people who were acting ferociously polite, they kept their impeccable game faces. They were hyper-talkative and hyper-interested in their guests, which made Andy’s heart ache.
Being so well versed in this sort of thing wasn’t fair to them and although she knew there would be no real hostility, the children couldn’t know that. Her parents were also a bit brittle and a little too accommodating because they were nervous. All in all, not the best digestive. The only truly happy thing for her was that all of the beets had stayed on plates or in mouths. She was the only one who’d had a close call, which was the closest Miranda came to a real laugh during the evening.
Andy couldn’t really blame her parents. She was pretty sure they hadn’t really counted on Miranda being so very Miranda and she knew even Martha’s laughter had done little to assuage their anxiety. They’d probably imagined a meeting with some version of a paper dragon and had, instead, found a real dragon-a person it was reasonable to fear.
When the girls and Andy had cleared the table, the Sachs thanked the girls for the meal.
“We’re glad you liked it-but you’ll like the barbecue tomorrow even better.”
Cassidy nudged Caroline, who continued, “Yeah, Maggie cooks lots better than we do.”
Richard smiled and said, “I can’t imagine that’s true,” then to Andy, “We’ve heard you mention a party. A barbecue, huh?”
“Yep. Really low-key so we can just hang out. Doug and Lily are coming and-“
Audrey interjected, “Oh, that’s wonderful! I’ve missed them so much.”
“Oh yeah. They can’t wait to see you either. The Castillos are also coming. They’re family friends and you’ll like them. They have a son our girls’ age. And I think Serena and Em and Nigel are coming, aren’t they, Miranda?”
“They’ve confirmed, although honestly Andrea? I don’t know what you were thinking. It’s been giving Emily a slow onset heart attack all week.”
Audrey’s eyes widened, “Emily? Real Emily? The Emily?”
“Yes, Audrey. My only actual Emily-and if you repeat that to her, children, heads will roll.”
Caroline and Cassidy snickered as they hugged their mother and Andy. Cassidy surprised Andy by putting her hand on her cheek and saying, “We love you and we’re sorry we were brats today.”
Andy pulled her into a hug and said, “No problem. I’m a brat from hell half the time I’m awake.”
“Yeah, we know. And language, Andy”
Andy sighed-the kid was never going to leave it alone. “Thank you Caroline.”
After they’d said polite goodnights, the adults were left alone.
Audrey took up the thread. “For some reason, I can’t believe I’ll get to meet the real Emily. She seems almost-”
“Mythical.” Andy finished for her as she took a sip of wine. “She sort of is-just like her boss.”
“Please, Andrea. If you’re going to be hyperbolic, use better subjects.”
Sam snorted and said, “Better than you? Where? Who?”
Miranda answered with a smile and, “More wine, Samuel?”
“Please.” As she poured more for the family, Sam said, “Please tell me more about Emily and Serena.”
Andy laughed, “Sorry, baby boy-they’re both knockouts but they’re knocked out together.”
Sam slapped his forehead, “Damn it! What are they putting in the water at Runway?”
“I know, right?” Andy giggled and Miranda decided not to pour her love another glass of wine.
As she placed the bottle on the table, she smiled at the Sachs family and said, “Well. Shall we get down to business?”
“What do you mean, Miranda?”
Andy’s pleasant buzz vaporized at her mother’s cool tone.
“Nothing unpleasant, Audrey, I assure you. I know your appearance in our home means you have questions to ask and I know that you’ve found the answers to some of them with Andrea. I’m saying I’m willing to answer the questions you have for me.” She looked at four stunned faces, “Am I wrong? You have no questions for the 50 year old woman living with your 25 year old daughter?”
Andy felt a chill in her stomach. “Miranda. Please don’t-“
“Andrea? Stop.” Miranda looked at her and ran a thumb over her cheek. “Do you trust me?”
Andy hesitated, then nodded.
“Then stop. This is their turn to speak-not yours. I promise I’ll play nicely. Alright?” She took Andy’s hand as the young woman nodded again.
She turned back to the family. “What do you want to ask me?”
There was a long silence and Miranda finally offered, “I see. An impasse. Alright. Let me do this. Perhaps, as any sane family would, you’ll want to know my intentions toward your daughter?”
Richard chuckled and then admitted nervously, “You know what? You’re good.”
“I know I am. Are my intentions something you want to hear?”
“Absolutely,” Audrey said.
“Very well. Here they are. I intend to live with Andrea and raise our children together and help them all live happy, productive lives for the rest of my life. Obviously not theirs.”
Andy tried to drag her hand away from Miranda’s. “I hate it when you say things like that.”
Miranda pulled Andy’s hand back into her lap, “I apologize. Andrea doesn’t like being reminded of our age difference in regard to the probability of my pre-deceasing her, which would be entirely natural and I profoundly hope will be the case. I can’t ignore it, as she’d prefer to, because I have minor children and a much younger partner. We’ve taken care of all of it legally. When she says this is our home, she means it. It legally belongs to both of us. Should I die before she does, my estate is equally split between her and our children and she and John and Cecelia will share custody of the twins.”
She took a sip of wine and continued, “However, should she leave me, for whatever reason, I will make a lump sum payment of a quite substantial amount to assist her in starting whatever new life she chooses to make. That’s something we argued about and she most certainly didn’t want but it was non-negotiable for me. She will never be held in a velvet cage. She’ll stay with me because she wants to and she’ll have a platinum parachute if she doesn’t. The upshot? I want to make a life with her and support her in every goal she has, whatever it is, whether it involves her career or even more children. What she wants in life she will have if it’s in my power to give or assist her in getting for herself.”
Sam exhaled a quiet, “Holy shit.” He looked around and said, “Sorry but that was cool.”
Richard took a deep breath, glanced at his wife and said, “That’s enough for me.”
Audrey smiled. Finally, Andy saw a real smile from her mom, “You’re really in love with my baby, aren’t you?”
“Mother to mother? Yes. She’s completely safe with me. And always will be. Can we close on that note? I’d like to look over the book so that I have the rest of our weekend free.”
She stood and ran a hand over Andy’s hair, “I look forward to our time together and I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.”
“I’ll be up in just a bit, sweetheart.”
Miranda smiled down at her, “Take your time-enjoy your visit.”
“You have 45 minutes, Priestly. Make ‘em count.”
They all said their goodnights but, as Miranda left the room, Audrey whispered, “Is that really necessary? It’s Friday night.”
Andy poured herself a half-glass of wine. “Well, like she said, she wants it off her mind. But yeah-Monday through Thursday usually end at about 12:30. She gets up at 5:30 sharp nearly every working morning.”
“But that’s insane.”
Andy shrugged, “I agree but that’s what it takes to be her.”
***
After more pleasant chat, the Sachs said goodnight and as Andy was climbing the stairs, she was congratulating Miranda and her family on a day well done. No explosions-it had almost been like they were real people. Upon opening the door to their bedroom, however, her heart sank. Miranda was sitting on the chair by their bed wearing a grim, determined expression and what Andy privately called the Robe of Doom, that damned robe Miranda had been wearing in Paris and which she only seemed to pull out when something dire was happening. She’d pointed this out to Miranda numerous times, but the woman had always only said, “Nonsense,” which had been the end of that.
She closed the door and crossed the room quickly, kneeling in front of Miranda, placing her hands on the woman’s knees. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”
Miranda’s expression solidified into the entirely inscrutable. Oh shit. Damage control and, as usual, she first had to solve the mystery of the damage.
She gently stroked Miranda’s knees and smiled up at her kindly, “I thought everything went great today-and the girls were fantastic. Didn’t you think so?”
Miranda glared at her and something changed in her eyes. She looked down and started to gently pick at the fabric in her robe. Okay, Andy thought. One answer. Miranda was nervous.
“Can you tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart? Because I can see something’s wrong.”
Miranda glared at her again and took a deep breath. “I wanted to say something to you…or tell…or ask something and then your family was coming and it would be entirely ludicrous to say anything when they might change everything.” Her voice became scathing, “Why on Earth would I ask something the answer of which might be predicated upon the whim of your parents? Do you think I’m a fool?”
Andy’s eyes widened. She thought for about ten seconds, then translated. “First thing’s first? No-you’re not a fool. But let me try to decode this. You’re telling me that you wanted to say something to me but you thought my parents might change what you’d said in some way, right?”
Miranda gave about the slightest nod of assent she could, which was really saying something, Andy thought.
Andy continued to rub soft circles on Miranda’s legs. “Okay. We’ve got that straightened out. What did you want to say, angel?”
Miranda reached behind her and pulled out a square box. A Cartier box. She handed it to Andy as if she were passing her the salt at the dinner table.
Andy felt her heart run triple-time. Okayokayokayokay.
“What’s this,” she managed to warble out. Wow. Andy had rarely received a more withering look from Miranda, which was again saying something.
Andy held the box in her hand, scarcely believing what it might hold inside, considering the look she was getting from the woman giving it to her. “Is this what I think it is?”
“I have no idea, Andrea. You haven’t opened it. Why not use your investigative journalistic acumen and enlighten me?”
Andy fought a surge of purely pissed off and the urge to roll her eyes and opened the box. Her jaw dropped. Yep. That was an engagement ring, alright.
“Holy sh…excuse me. I’m sorry. That’s…Miranda? You could marry, like, fifteen girls with this ring.”
“Fifteen? Spare me. I can barely keep up with one.”
Andy stared at the ring. God only knew how many carats the middle stone was but any of the diamonds surrounding it would have been larger than any engagement ring she’d ever expected.
“It’s gorgeous.” Andy chuckled anxiously, then smacked her forehead. “Of course it is. It’s from you.”
Miranda thawed nearly imperceptibly but leaned forward, “You’ll notice that the main stone is paved with others, so that it has a nearly perfectly smooth surface. If I’d given you a solitaire you would have stabbed my eye out at some point and picked my clothing every time you touched me.”
Now Andy did roll her eyes, “Leave it to you to be slightly insulting describing my engagement ring.”
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“I believe it’s customary to give some sort of answer at this point, is it not?”
“Yes, darling. But you haven’t asked me anything I can answer, have you?”
And then, despite herself, she began to laugh. She watched Miranda immediately draw farther into herself and Andy hastened to add, “This is perfect! So perfect.”
“If you think this is funny, perhaps we should forget it. It’s obviously becoming farcical to you which is the antithesis of romance-or something like that surely.”
“Nope. Stop it. No take backs. What’s perfect is this. Don’t tell me it isn’t a little funny that your former second assistant is kneeling down asking you whether you’re asking her to marry you. C’mon. Even you can see it. Isn’t it just a little bit funny?”
Miranda almost smiled even as she stared for a long few moments.
She took Andy’s hand. “I don’t care how we do it. We can go to a state that will accept us, a country that will marry us or we can just do it here at home. The ceremony doesn’t matter. The sentiment does. Please marry me, Andy.”
“On one condition.”
Miranda sighed, “I knew it. Here we go.”
“Stop it. You’re impossible.” She reached up and cupped Miranda’s cheek in her hand, “I’m only getting married once. Put this ring on my finger and that’s it. No separations, no divorce. Til death do us part. If that’s what you want, put it on my finger and the answer is yes.”
Miranda slipped it on her finger and smiled. A real smile. Andy climbed into her lap. “Are we the luckiest girls or what?”
“Debatable-because I certainly can’t call myself a girl anymore.”
“You’re my girl.” She kissed her and Miranda pulled away from her.
“I’m serious, Andy. I’m not a girl. I’m a much older woman asking you for what-“
“What I want? Thank God you’re older or it might have taken us years. Because you know it’d have to be you to ask.”
Miranda pulled further away. “You could have asked.”
Andy kissed her on the forehead. “No no. You had to be the one to ask and you know it.”
Before the woman could dispute this, she said “No.” She ran her fingers through Miranda’s white hair. “It was not my place to ask and you know it. If the reasons we both know that seem archaic? Fuck ‘em. Maybe they are but I don’t care. I truly don’t care what people think. You’re offering me more than I could possibly offer you.”
“Only financially.”
Andy laughed but it was sweet. “Let’s see. Finance. Power. Children. A home. Nearly everything. Let’s not pretend it’s not true, okay?”
Miranda’s eyes darkened but she said, “Okay.”
“I am the recipient of your proposal, am I not?”
“Yes.”
“So, despite the obvious inequalities I’ve just stated, I’m not nervous. We’ll still be marrying because we’re equals. We’re equally in love, aren’t we?”
“We are.”
“There you go.”
“So we’re engaged?”
“Not ‘til you take me to bed. You have to make me yours. I’m old-fashioned that way.”
Miranda’s face immediately darkened again, “Yes…well. I’m sorry about that. About last night.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m not. I’m exactly as sore today as you intended for me to be. I couldn’t think of anything but you every time I moved today. Tonight, though? Gentle and slow wins the race. Can you do that?”
“You know I can. Happily,” Miranda said as she hugged her. As she pulled away, she was suddenly beaming, “You realize this robe I’m wearing is now our engagement robe and we can’t throw it away.”
Andy snorted and beamed back at her, “And this sweatshirt is now our engagement sweatshirt!”
Miranda allowed herself a rare profanity, “Motherfucker!” She composed herself. “Fine. We’ll put the robe and your sweatshirt in your closet of shame.”
“See? We’re going to be so happy together.”
“Why? Because we can put clothing in your personal nuclear landfill?”
“Oh, shut up. Look at my ring-isn’t it pretty?”
Andy felt a completely joyful feeling, Miranda finally, finally relaxing. The woman shrugged, took her hand and looked at the ring. “It’s pretty enough but it’s prettier on you.” She buried her forehead in Andy’s shoulder and whispered, “Everything is.”
***
The next morning Andy bounced down into the kitchen and found the girls and Sam munching cereal. She slapped her left hand down on the table and said, “Read ‘em and weep, kiddos!”
Sam nearly snorted cereal through his nose, then leapt up and hugged her, saying, “Dude-you could marry a billion girls with that.”
“I know, right? Just what I said.”
They both looked at the girls, who were completely nonplussed.
“About time,” Cassidy said.
“Yeah.”
“You guys knew?”
Caroline sighed, “Mom told us she was gonna ask but we knew even before that-a long time before that. You guys are so slow on the uptake.”
Cassidy assented, “Yeah. It’s like watching a movie you’ve already seen, only at at half-speed.”
Andy’s high spirits were suddenly crushed and she didn’t care if it wasn’t quite appropriate to ask. “You mean because I’m like your mom was with Stephen?”
The girls both sighed but Cassidy said, “No. You’re not Stephen. You’re just so obvious, Andy.”
Andy’s heart felt sort of pulpy hearing this and her brother tightened his grip on her shoulder.
“Obviously right,” Caroline added.
“Yeah.” Cassidy grinned up at her. “You’re right. For her. Even for us, we think.”
Caroline glared at Andy and waved her spoon at her like a teacher’s ruler, “That’s enough of the mushy stuff and don’t even think about crying. It’s boring and I’m hungry.” She dipped into her cereal and ignored Andy.
***
When Andy’s parents came down to breakfast, they were just about as startled as she’d thought they’d be. The ring itself was a showstopper and the meaning behind it wasn’t all that far behind it in her ‘oh my God, I hope this goes okay’ category.
Her father had goggled at it and said, “Good God!” as he hugged her. But Andy watched various emotions flicker through her mother’s eyes and identified some of them as pain and concern before the woman said, “Congratulations, sweetie. It’s beautiful.” The weight of ten thousand worlds fell off Andy’s shoulders as she smiled and was embarrassed to hear herself giggling before she said, “Of course it is-it’s Miranda’s.”
Miranda, who had a preternatural ability to make a timely entrance said, “What’s mine, Andrea?”
Andy looked at her shyly. Even after living with her and watching her like a hawk, she still had no idea what alchemy made Miranda, when she chose to, look like a million bucks and as if she’d been up for hours when everyone around her was pajama-clad and frowzy with sleep.
“Hi, sweetheart. I was just saying the ring is yours. I’m yours.”
“Ridiculous. The ring is yours, as am I. Your acceptance of our betrothal is an honor you’ve bestowed upon me. That’s what it means.” She glanced at the Sachs, “I hope you slept well.”
Although they were reeling from the topic change, they assured her they had as Miranda interrupted and said, “Andrea? Is a cup of coffee completely out of the question now that you’re my fiancée?”
Andy snorted and kissed Miranda on the cheek, “Not at all. On it, boss.”
***
“So? What would you like to do today? We have a limited amount of time because we have the party that’s starting at four. Regardless? New York is yours for the taking. I’m sorry to be so gauche as to say I mean that literally.”
Andy patted Miranda on the hand and was surprised to hear Caroline pipe up first. “I want to go to the Met-they have that retrospective of the great photography of the 20th century. We haven’t had time to see it yet.”
Sam said, “Dude, that sounds cool. Let’s do it. You up for it, Cass?”
Cassidy looked at her sister for a few seconds and said, “Yes. She wants to see it so I’ll tag.”
“Dad? Wanna go? That’s perfect! You love photography.” In truth, Audrey was a lousy photographer. Richard adored photography. He was, however, perhaps the worst photographer on the planet but, like all unrequited lovers, the flame never died. His eyes brightened considerably. “Sounds fantastic. Let’s do it. How about you ladies?”
Audrey took a deep breath and said, “Actually, if Miranda and Andy wouldn’t mind, I’d like to see Runway.”
That stopped them all cold. Miranda took a sip of her coffee, “You realize you’ll only see nearly empty halls.”
Audrey nodded and met Miranda’s eyes without flinching, “My daughter’s agreed to marry you-and that means marrying Runway, does it not? Why wouldn’t I want to meet her other suitor?”
Miranda tilted her head and almost smiled. “Why not indeed. We ladies can go to Runway and everyone else can go to the Met. Acceptable?”
Acceptable.
***
Andy had known, and was not disappointed, when she saw that Miranda had chosen not fashion forward but fashion ferocious for the visit. Andy had chosen something a little less daunting so as not to make her mother feel badly. Her mother looked perfectly lovely but she was not Runway and she wanted to sort of smack Miranda for making that point.
But that was the woman she was engaged to and she really couldn’t expect anything less. The security guard raised himself to his full height as Miranda passed and she completely disregarded him. Andy thought, for about the 10,000th time what that felt like or looked like to another person, a person like her mother. She remembered what it had once looked like to her. Callous, cold, a complete dismissal of another human being. Which was what Miranda did. What she was. And still she loved her. She looked at the ring on her hand, a tether to what only a few people were privileged to see. It was a connection to what was true about Miranda. As they moved up in the elevator, an elevator that should have been Miranda’s alone, she knew both things were true. Miranda was what she was at Runway. And she was what she was with her. Andy had to accept both of them. She had. She lifted her head with pride and stepped into Runway, a mistress her future wife had created for herself. One she’d always have to embrace.
She had.
***
At that same moment, Roy picked up Mary Washington, as he’d been instructed. He hadn’t been told much more than the fact that she’d be going to the opening of a new Boys and Girls club room in her son’s honor. He remembered the story of her and her son’s death, because he always followed Andy’s stories. He counted on it being a rather long trip for both of them.
He hadn’t counted on her being so very beautiful and stoic in the back of his car. She was anxious, he could tell, looking back at her through his rear-view mirror.
“Mr. Roy?”
“Roy, ma’am. My name is Roy Connolly, but please call me Roy.”
“Irish, are you?”
Roy smiled and answered, “Yes, ma’am. At least my da was-and I have no proof otherwise.”
She smiled and said, “Call me Mary.”
He smiled into the mirror, “Thank you. I will.”
“Can you tell me whose car I’m in, Roy?”
“Miranda Priestly’s, Mary.”
Mary took this in for a few moments and smiled. “I’m not blind-I see the tabloids about Andy and Miranda. I assume it’s true?”
Roy replied guardedly but firmly, “They are who they are. I have to tell you I won’t take nay-saying about either of them from my passengers because I’m quite fond of both of them. Say what you will about them but, if it’s negative, I’ll be the silent driver from then on. You might like that better, to tell the truth.”
He watched as Mary took this in. “I have nothing negative to say about Andy. And it’s Miranda who’s underwritten my son’s legacy, isn’t it?”
Roy hesitated before saying, “Yes. She’s more sensitive than people think. And please never quote me on that.”
Mary grinned, “I won’t. I promise. And if Andy sees something in her, there must be something to see.”
“I can only say there’s never a dull day. She’s a…mercurial woman but I’d do anything for her. Including drive.” He grinned back at her, then asked, “What do you do for a living, Mary?”
“I’m a high school English teacher.”
“Really? Isn’t that lovely? My favorite subject in school.”
“Was it?”
“You’d better believe it! But my da wanted me outside playing stickball or starting fights, you know? He was an old-school gent himself and thought a boy’s job was to be out in the streets and it was the Bronx. He didn’t like seeing me with my nose in a book.”
“What was your favorite book when you were a child?”
“Dickens! David Copperfield.”
“A wonderful choice.”
“I think so, too. It was always another world for me, if you get my point and I must say I sometimes needed one. I still keep it by my bedside and dip into it now and again-just to refresh myself.”
He saw her smile in the mirror. “I still dip into it, as well. How’d you get into driving, Roy? Do you enjoy it?”
Roy’s flushed in embarrassment. “My da told me no use going to university because all I was good for was…well, you see. Not much. I’m a driver.”
“I mean no disrespect but your father was wrong to limit you in that way. And there’s no shame in being a driver, Roy. Never think that.”
As he guided them to the Boys and Girls Club and they’d parked, Mary surprised him by asking, “Would you mind escorting me in?”
He thought for one moment and said, “No. I’d be honored, ma’am.”
Jumping out of the car, he offered his arm to her, which she took with a smile. “What a gentleman.”
He found the courage to wink at her, “It’s my job.”
She patted his arm. “No. It comes naturally to you. I can tell.”
When they entered the building, a giddy young woman came forward, “Ms. Washington?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Sara Ford and I’m the volunteer coordinator for your son’s project.”
After Mary had introduced herself and Roy, Sara led them down a hallway. “Naturally, if you’d wanted it, we would have had a ribbon-cutting or publicity but Emily said you didn’t seem the type to want that.”
“Emily was right.”
“Then it’s good-I’m very glad. You’ll see it in operation. Two days in-and I think you’ll be astonished.”
And she was. Mary quickly made a count-thirty workstations, half Mac, half PC. At each one a child was working-nearly all of them had teens or adults sitting next to them.
“See, we’ve had plenty of adults and teens willing to tutor kids but no money for the computers or to be honest, even a me-someone to coordinate all of it. You wouldn’t believe how amazing the response has been. Once you have the capital expense, people come running in to help.”
Mary nodded but stifled a sob as she saw the fourth wall-which was an enormous canvas of her favorite picture of her son. She hadn’t understood why Emily had asked for it but had scanned and sent it and now there it was, with his name, covering the entire wall.
Mary grasped Roy’s hand as she looked around, “Yes. This is perfect.”
Sara’s smile was genuine. “I am so very, very glad you approve. This can’t change your loss-but look around this room. Your son is changing children’s lives.”
“If you’d known my son, you’d know nothing would have pleased him more. I’ll visit again.”
“And you’ll always be welcome.”
As they walked back to the car, Mary said, “It’s wonderful-but a memorial makes it so real, if you understand me.”
“Of course I do.”
“Sometimes, Roy, I try to imagine he’s just on vacation or something like that. Not something so permanent as dead. But he is dead. He doesn’t exist in this world anymore. And I have to keep remembering that, day after day after day.”
“I know that feeling, Mary. It’s…like that Emily Dickinson poem, right? After great pain, a formal feeling comes?”
“This is the hour of lead,” they said at the same time.
Mary laughed, and looked up at him through tears, “I am so glad you’re driving me today, Roy.”
“Likewise, ma’am, I’m sure.”
***
Roy drove her home and as he parked to let her out he said, “Mary?”
“Yes, Roy?”
“If you have no person who walks with you? Barkis is willin’.”
She laughed out loud. “So I’m Peggoty? I wish I were wearing an apron to throw over my face!”
He beamed. Someone who really knew his favorite book. “Would you maybe like…to go to lunch sometime-next weekend, maybe?”
“Of course, Roy.”
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Thank God! That was easy.”
Mary laughed again. “Finally. A man who admits how hard it is to ask for a date. I’m putting it down in my calendar. Did you know David Copperfield would do it?”
Roy grinned, saying “I thought an orphan lad out on his own for a while had some potential but if it hadn’t worked, I’d have pulled out my twins.”
“Unless you’re not telling me something, I’m assuming you’re talking about Miranda’s twins. Unless they actually are yours.”
Roy’s eyes widened, “Oh no. No no no on the sire side. But yes, I’m talking about Miranda’s girls. It’s just I’ve driven them all their lives. My da was very hard, as I’ve said, but he always told me to treat every child you meet as if he or she is yours. God help me in my case but you see the point. Children are precious.”
“That they are, Roy. I know too well.”
A few moments went by and Roy said, “I’m sorry, Mary. I have no children of my own and I didn’t mean to give you pain.”
“You didn’t, Roy. I can’t avoid talking about children for the rest of my life. And I wouldn’t even if I could, I promise you.”
“Your lad is surely laughing at me from heaven now. We men always laugh when we see each other being boneheads with women.”
“I like thinking of him like that.”
“Like what?”
“A man. I’ll never see him as a man.”
“Oh, of course you can. Men just fill out and get taller after about age 13-no difference beside that. Even emotionally. Just seeing his picture I can well imagine him a man.”
As they pulled up to her building, Mary said, “I don’t believe that, you know-about men.”
“Oh, I promise it’s true-but I suppose you’ll see this weekend, won’t you.”
“I suppose I will. Call me.” She handed him a slip of paper with her phone number on it and left the car.
He took it and carefully put it in his wallet and did, indeed, feel exactly like a 13 year old boy.
***
NEXT CHAPTER
Rated PG
Summary: The typical bore and snore.
A/N: Rosemary would kick me for calling her a beta but I love and thank her for about 10 million reasons that are so manifestly obvious that the least of them is giving this the once-over twice. All mistakes are mine. Apologies for the massive delay. If you knew my life, you’d understand why and probably better than I do, frankly.
***
Dinner was relatively pleasant. The presence of the children was, of course, the critical factor in its success. Andy was aware that no one knew this better than Caroline and Cassidy. Having been raised to eat during the beginning or even during the middle of pitched battles between people who were acting ferociously polite, they kept their impeccable game faces. They were hyper-talkative and hyper-interested in their guests, which made Andy’s heart ache.
Being so well versed in this sort of thing wasn’t fair to them and although she knew there would be no real hostility, the children couldn’t know that. Her parents were also a bit brittle and a little too accommodating because they were nervous. All in all, not the best digestive. The only truly happy thing for her was that all of the beets had stayed on plates or in mouths. She was the only one who’d had a close call, which was the closest Miranda came to a real laugh during the evening.
Andy couldn’t really blame her parents. She was pretty sure they hadn’t really counted on Miranda being so very Miranda and she knew even Martha’s laughter had done little to assuage their anxiety. They’d probably imagined a meeting with some version of a paper dragon and had, instead, found a real dragon-a person it was reasonable to fear.
When the girls and Andy had cleared the table, the Sachs thanked the girls for the meal.
“We’re glad you liked it-but you’ll like the barbecue tomorrow even better.”
Cassidy nudged Caroline, who continued, “Yeah, Maggie cooks lots better than we do.”
Richard smiled and said, “I can’t imagine that’s true,” then to Andy, “We’ve heard you mention a party. A barbecue, huh?”
“Yep. Really low-key so we can just hang out. Doug and Lily are coming and-“
Audrey interjected, “Oh, that’s wonderful! I’ve missed them so much.”
“Oh yeah. They can’t wait to see you either. The Castillos are also coming. They’re family friends and you’ll like them. They have a son our girls’ age. And I think Serena and Em and Nigel are coming, aren’t they, Miranda?”
“They’ve confirmed, although honestly Andrea? I don’t know what you were thinking. It’s been giving Emily a slow onset heart attack all week.”
Audrey’s eyes widened, “Emily? Real Emily? The Emily?”
“Yes, Audrey. My only actual Emily-and if you repeat that to her, children, heads will roll.”
Caroline and Cassidy snickered as they hugged their mother and Andy. Cassidy surprised Andy by putting her hand on her cheek and saying, “We love you and we’re sorry we were brats today.”
Andy pulled her into a hug and said, “No problem. I’m a brat from hell half the time I’m awake.”
“Yeah, we know. And language, Andy”
Andy sighed-the kid was never going to leave it alone. “Thank you Caroline.”
After they’d said polite goodnights, the adults were left alone.
Audrey took up the thread. “For some reason, I can’t believe I’ll get to meet the real Emily. She seems almost-”
“Mythical.” Andy finished for her as she took a sip of wine. “She sort of is-just like her boss.”
“Please, Andrea. If you’re going to be hyperbolic, use better subjects.”
Sam snorted and said, “Better than you? Where? Who?”
Miranda answered with a smile and, “More wine, Samuel?”
“Please.” As she poured more for the family, Sam said, “Please tell me more about Emily and Serena.”
Andy laughed, “Sorry, baby boy-they’re both knockouts but they’re knocked out together.”
Sam slapped his forehead, “Damn it! What are they putting in the water at Runway?”
“I know, right?” Andy giggled and Miranda decided not to pour her love another glass of wine.
As she placed the bottle on the table, she smiled at the Sachs family and said, “Well. Shall we get down to business?”
“What do you mean, Miranda?”
Andy’s pleasant buzz vaporized at her mother’s cool tone.
“Nothing unpleasant, Audrey, I assure you. I know your appearance in our home means you have questions to ask and I know that you’ve found the answers to some of them with Andrea. I’m saying I’m willing to answer the questions you have for me.” She looked at four stunned faces, “Am I wrong? You have no questions for the 50 year old woman living with your 25 year old daughter?”
Andy felt a chill in her stomach. “Miranda. Please don’t-“
“Andrea? Stop.” Miranda looked at her and ran a thumb over her cheek. “Do you trust me?”
Andy hesitated, then nodded.
“Then stop. This is their turn to speak-not yours. I promise I’ll play nicely. Alright?” She took Andy’s hand as the young woman nodded again.
She turned back to the family. “What do you want to ask me?”
There was a long silence and Miranda finally offered, “I see. An impasse. Alright. Let me do this. Perhaps, as any sane family would, you’ll want to know my intentions toward your daughter?”
Richard chuckled and then admitted nervously, “You know what? You’re good.”
“I know I am. Are my intentions something you want to hear?”
“Absolutely,” Audrey said.
“Very well. Here they are. I intend to live with Andrea and raise our children together and help them all live happy, productive lives for the rest of my life. Obviously not theirs.”
Andy tried to drag her hand away from Miranda’s. “I hate it when you say things like that.”
Miranda pulled Andy’s hand back into her lap, “I apologize. Andrea doesn’t like being reminded of our age difference in regard to the probability of my pre-deceasing her, which would be entirely natural and I profoundly hope will be the case. I can’t ignore it, as she’d prefer to, because I have minor children and a much younger partner. We’ve taken care of all of it legally. When she says this is our home, she means it. It legally belongs to both of us. Should I die before she does, my estate is equally split between her and our children and she and John and Cecelia will share custody of the twins.”
She took a sip of wine and continued, “However, should she leave me, for whatever reason, I will make a lump sum payment of a quite substantial amount to assist her in starting whatever new life she chooses to make. That’s something we argued about and she most certainly didn’t want but it was non-negotiable for me. She will never be held in a velvet cage. She’ll stay with me because she wants to and she’ll have a platinum parachute if she doesn’t. The upshot? I want to make a life with her and support her in every goal she has, whatever it is, whether it involves her career or even more children. What she wants in life she will have if it’s in my power to give or assist her in getting for herself.”
Sam exhaled a quiet, “Holy shit.” He looked around and said, “Sorry but that was cool.”
Richard took a deep breath, glanced at his wife and said, “That’s enough for me.”
Audrey smiled. Finally, Andy saw a real smile from her mom, “You’re really in love with my baby, aren’t you?”
“Mother to mother? Yes. She’s completely safe with me. And always will be. Can we close on that note? I’d like to look over the book so that I have the rest of our weekend free.”
She stood and ran a hand over Andy’s hair, “I look forward to our time together and I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.”
“I’ll be up in just a bit, sweetheart.”
Miranda smiled down at her, “Take your time-enjoy your visit.”
“You have 45 minutes, Priestly. Make ‘em count.”
They all said their goodnights but, as Miranda left the room, Audrey whispered, “Is that really necessary? It’s Friday night.”
Andy poured herself a half-glass of wine. “Well, like she said, she wants it off her mind. But yeah-Monday through Thursday usually end at about 12:30. She gets up at 5:30 sharp nearly every working morning.”
“But that’s insane.”
Andy shrugged, “I agree but that’s what it takes to be her.”
***
After more pleasant chat, the Sachs said goodnight and as Andy was climbing the stairs, she was congratulating Miranda and her family on a day well done. No explosions-it had almost been like they were real people. Upon opening the door to their bedroom, however, her heart sank. Miranda was sitting on the chair by their bed wearing a grim, determined expression and what Andy privately called the Robe of Doom, that damned robe Miranda had been wearing in Paris and which she only seemed to pull out when something dire was happening. She’d pointed this out to Miranda numerous times, but the woman had always only said, “Nonsense,” which had been the end of that.
She closed the door and crossed the room quickly, kneeling in front of Miranda, placing her hands on the woman’s knees. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”
Miranda’s expression solidified into the entirely inscrutable. Oh shit. Damage control and, as usual, she first had to solve the mystery of the damage.
She gently stroked Miranda’s knees and smiled up at her kindly, “I thought everything went great today-and the girls were fantastic. Didn’t you think so?”
Miranda glared at her and something changed in her eyes. She looked down and started to gently pick at the fabric in her robe. Okay, Andy thought. One answer. Miranda was nervous.
“Can you tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart? Because I can see something’s wrong.”
Miranda glared at her again and took a deep breath. “I wanted to say something to you…or tell…or ask something and then your family was coming and it would be entirely ludicrous to say anything when they might change everything.” Her voice became scathing, “Why on Earth would I ask something the answer of which might be predicated upon the whim of your parents? Do you think I’m a fool?”
Andy’s eyes widened. She thought for about ten seconds, then translated. “First thing’s first? No-you’re not a fool. But let me try to decode this. You’re telling me that you wanted to say something to me but you thought my parents might change what you’d said in some way, right?”
Miranda gave about the slightest nod of assent she could, which was really saying something, Andy thought.
Andy continued to rub soft circles on Miranda’s legs. “Okay. We’ve got that straightened out. What did you want to say, angel?”
Miranda reached behind her and pulled out a square box. A Cartier box. She handed it to Andy as if she were passing her the salt at the dinner table.
Andy felt her heart run triple-time. Okayokayokayokay.
“What’s this,” she managed to warble out. Wow. Andy had rarely received a more withering look from Miranda, which was again saying something.
Andy held the box in her hand, scarcely believing what it might hold inside, considering the look she was getting from the woman giving it to her. “Is this what I think it is?”
“I have no idea, Andrea. You haven’t opened it. Why not use your investigative journalistic acumen and enlighten me?”
Andy fought a surge of purely pissed off and the urge to roll her eyes and opened the box. Her jaw dropped. Yep. That was an engagement ring, alright.
“Holy sh…excuse me. I’m sorry. That’s…Miranda? You could marry, like, fifteen girls with this ring.”
“Fifteen? Spare me. I can barely keep up with one.”
Andy stared at the ring. God only knew how many carats the middle stone was but any of the diamonds surrounding it would have been larger than any engagement ring she’d ever expected.
“It’s gorgeous.” Andy chuckled anxiously, then smacked her forehead. “Of course it is. It’s from you.”
Miranda thawed nearly imperceptibly but leaned forward, “You’ll notice that the main stone is paved with others, so that it has a nearly perfectly smooth surface. If I’d given you a solitaire you would have stabbed my eye out at some point and picked my clothing every time you touched me.”
Now Andy did roll her eyes, “Leave it to you to be slightly insulting describing my engagement ring.”
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“I believe it’s customary to give some sort of answer at this point, is it not?”
“Yes, darling. But you haven’t asked me anything I can answer, have you?”
And then, despite herself, she began to laugh. She watched Miranda immediately draw farther into herself and Andy hastened to add, “This is perfect! So perfect.”
“If you think this is funny, perhaps we should forget it. It’s obviously becoming farcical to you which is the antithesis of romance-or something like that surely.”
“Nope. Stop it. No take backs. What’s perfect is this. Don’t tell me it isn’t a little funny that your former second assistant is kneeling down asking you whether you’re asking her to marry you. C’mon. Even you can see it. Isn’t it just a little bit funny?”
Miranda almost smiled even as she stared for a long few moments.
She took Andy’s hand. “I don’t care how we do it. We can go to a state that will accept us, a country that will marry us or we can just do it here at home. The ceremony doesn’t matter. The sentiment does. Please marry me, Andy.”
“On one condition.”
Miranda sighed, “I knew it. Here we go.”
“Stop it. You’re impossible.” She reached up and cupped Miranda’s cheek in her hand, “I’m only getting married once. Put this ring on my finger and that’s it. No separations, no divorce. Til death do us part. If that’s what you want, put it on my finger and the answer is yes.”
Miranda slipped it on her finger and smiled. A real smile. Andy climbed into her lap. “Are we the luckiest girls or what?”
“Debatable-because I certainly can’t call myself a girl anymore.”
“You’re my girl.” She kissed her and Miranda pulled away from her.
“I’m serious, Andy. I’m not a girl. I’m a much older woman asking you for what-“
“What I want? Thank God you’re older or it might have taken us years. Because you know it’d have to be you to ask.”
Miranda pulled further away. “You could have asked.”
Andy kissed her on the forehead. “No no. You had to be the one to ask and you know it.”
Before the woman could dispute this, she said “No.” She ran her fingers through Miranda’s white hair. “It was not my place to ask and you know it. If the reasons we both know that seem archaic? Fuck ‘em. Maybe they are but I don’t care. I truly don’t care what people think. You’re offering me more than I could possibly offer you.”
“Only financially.”
Andy laughed but it was sweet. “Let’s see. Finance. Power. Children. A home. Nearly everything. Let’s not pretend it’s not true, okay?”
Miranda’s eyes darkened but she said, “Okay.”
“I am the recipient of your proposal, am I not?”
“Yes.”
“So, despite the obvious inequalities I’ve just stated, I’m not nervous. We’ll still be marrying because we’re equals. We’re equally in love, aren’t we?”
“We are.”
“There you go.”
“So we’re engaged?”
“Not ‘til you take me to bed. You have to make me yours. I’m old-fashioned that way.”
Miranda’s face immediately darkened again, “Yes…well. I’m sorry about that. About last night.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m not. I’m exactly as sore today as you intended for me to be. I couldn’t think of anything but you every time I moved today. Tonight, though? Gentle and slow wins the race. Can you do that?”
“You know I can. Happily,” Miranda said as she hugged her. As she pulled away, she was suddenly beaming, “You realize this robe I’m wearing is now our engagement robe and we can’t throw it away.”
Andy snorted and beamed back at her, “And this sweatshirt is now our engagement sweatshirt!”
Miranda allowed herself a rare profanity, “Motherfucker!” She composed herself. “Fine. We’ll put the robe and your sweatshirt in your closet of shame.”
“See? We’re going to be so happy together.”
“Why? Because we can put clothing in your personal nuclear landfill?”
“Oh, shut up. Look at my ring-isn’t it pretty?”
Andy felt a completely joyful feeling, Miranda finally, finally relaxing. The woman shrugged, took her hand and looked at the ring. “It’s pretty enough but it’s prettier on you.” She buried her forehead in Andy’s shoulder and whispered, “Everything is.”
***
The next morning Andy bounced down into the kitchen and found the girls and Sam munching cereal. She slapped her left hand down on the table and said, “Read ‘em and weep, kiddos!”
Sam nearly snorted cereal through his nose, then leapt up and hugged her, saying, “Dude-you could marry a billion girls with that.”
“I know, right? Just what I said.”
They both looked at the girls, who were completely nonplussed.
“About time,” Cassidy said.
“Yeah.”
“You guys knew?”
Caroline sighed, “Mom told us she was gonna ask but we knew even before that-a long time before that. You guys are so slow on the uptake.”
Cassidy assented, “Yeah. It’s like watching a movie you’ve already seen, only at at half-speed.”
Andy’s high spirits were suddenly crushed and she didn’t care if it wasn’t quite appropriate to ask. “You mean because I’m like your mom was with Stephen?”
The girls both sighed but Cassidy said, “No. You’re not Stephen. You’re just so obvious, Andy.”
Andy’s heart felt sort of pulpy hearing this and her brother tightened his grip on her shoulder.
“Obviously right,” Caroline added.
“Yeah.” Cassidy grinned up at her. “You’re right. For her. Even for us, we think.”
Caroline glared at Andy and waved her spoon at her like a teacher’s ruler, “That’s enough of the mushy stuff and don’t even think about crying. It’s boring and I’m hungry.” She dipped into her cereal and ignored Andy.
***
When Andy’s parents came down to breakfast, they were just about as startled as she’d thought they’d be. The ring itself was a showstopper and the meaning behind it wasn’t all that far behind it in her ‘oh my God, I hope this goes okay’ category.
Her father had goggled at it and said, “Good God!” as he hugged her. But Andy watched various emotions flicker through her mother’s eyes and identified some of them as pain and concern before the woman said, “Congratulations, sweetie. It’s beautiful.” The weight of ten thousand worlds fell off Andy’s shoulders as she smiled and was embarrassed to hear herself giggling before she said, “Of course it is-it’s Miranda’s.”
Miranda, who had a preternatural ability to make a timely entrance said, “What’s mine, Andrea?”
Andy looked at her shyly. Even after living with her and watching her like a hawk, she still had no idea what alchemy made Miranda, when she chose to, look like a million bucks and as if she’d been up for hours when everyone around her was pajama-clad and frowzy with sleep.
“Hi, sweetheart. I was just saying the ring is yours. I’m yours.”
“Ridiculous. The ring is yours, as am I. Your acceptance of our betrothal is an honor you’ve bestowed upon me. That’s what it means.” She glanced at the Sachs, “I hope you slept well.”
Although they were reeling from the topic change, they assured her they had as Miranda interrupted and said, “Andrea? Is a cup of coffee completely out of the question now that you’re my fiancée?”
Andy snorted and kissed Miranda on the cheek, “Not at all. On it, boss.”
***
“So? What would you like to do today? We have a limited amount of time because we have the party that’s starting at four. Regardless? New York is yours for the taking. I’m sorry to be so gauche as to say I mean that literally.”
Andy patted Miranda on the hand and was surprised to hear Caroline pipe up first. “I want to go to the Met-they have that retrospective of the great photography of the 20th century. We haven’t had time to see it yet.”
Sam said, “Dude, that sounds cool. Let’s do it. You up for it, Cass?”
Cassidy looked at her sister for a few seconds and said, “Yes. She wants to see it so I’ll tag.”
“Dad? Wanna go? That’s perfect! You love photography.” In truth, Audrey was a lousy photographer. Richard adored photography. He was, however, perhaps the worst photographer on the planet but, like all unrequited lovers, the flame never died. His eyes brightened considerably. “Sounds fantastic. Let’s do it. How about you ladies?”
Audrey took a deep breath and said, “Actually, if Miranda and Andy wouldn’t mind, I’d like to see Runway.”
That stopped them all cold. Miranda took a sip of her coffee, “You realize you’ll only see nearly empty halls.”
Audrey nodded and met Miranda’s eyes without flinching, “My daughter’s agreed to marry you-and that means marrying Runway, does it not? Why wouldn’t I want to meet her other suitor?”
Miranda tilted her head and almost smiled. “Why not indeed. We ladies can go to Runway and everyone else can go to the Met. Acceptable?”
Acceptable.
***
Andy had known, and was not disappointed, when she saw that Miranda had chosen not fashion forward but fashion ferocious for the visit. Andy had chosen something a little less daunting so as not to make her mother feel badly. Her mother looked perfectly lovely but she was not Runway and she wanted to sort of smack Miranda for making that point.
But that was the woman she was engaged to and she really couldn’t expect anything less. The security guard raised himself to his full height as Miranda passed and she completely disregarded him. Andy thought, for about the 10,000th time what that felt like or looked like to another person, a person like her mother. She remembered what it had once looked like to her. Callous, cold, a complete dismissal of another human being. Which was what Miranda did. What she was. And still she loved her. She looked at the ring on her hand, a tether to what only a few people were privileged to see. It was a connection to what was true about Miranda. As they moved up in the elevator, an elevator that should have been Miranda’s alone, she knew both things were true. Miranda was what she was at Runway. And she was what she was with her. Andy had to accept both of them. She had. She lifted her head with pride and stepped into Runway, a mistress her future wife had created for herself. One she’d always have to embrace.
She had.
***
At that same moment, Roy picked up Mary Washington, as he’d been instructed. He hadn’t been told much more than the fact that she’d be going to the opening of a new Boys and Girls club room in her son’s honor. He remembered the story of her and her son’s death, because he always followed Andy’s stories. He counted on it being a rather long trip for both of them.
He hadn’t counted on her being so very beautiful and stoic in the back of his car. She was anxious, he could tell, looking back at her through his rear-view mirror.
“Mr. Roy?”
“Roy, ma’am. My name is Roy Connolly, but please call me Roy.”
“Irish, are you?”
Roy smiled and answered, “Yes, ma’am. At least my da was-and I have no proof otherwise.”
She smiled and said, “Call me Mary.”
He smiled into the mirror, “Thank you. I will.”
“Can you tell me whose car I’m in, Roy?”
“Miranda Priestly’s, Mary.”
Mary took this in for a few moments and smiled. “I’m not blind-I see the tabloids about Andy and Miranda. I assume it’s true?”
Roy replied guardedly but firmly, “They are who they are. I have to tell you I won’t take nay-saying about either of them from my passengers because I’m quite fond of both of them. Say what you will about them but, if it’s negative, I’ll be the silent driver from then on. You might like that better, to tell the truth.”
He watched as Mary took this in. “I have nothing negative to say about Andy. And it’s Miranda who’s underwritten my son’s legacy, isn’t it?”
Roy hesitated before saying, “Yes. She’s more sensitive than people think. And please never quote me on that.”
Mary grinned, “I won’t. I promise. And if Andy sees something in her, there must be something to see.”
“I can only say there’s never a dull day. She’s a…mercurial woman but I’d do anything for her. Including drive.” He grinned back at her, then asked, “What do you do for a living, Mary?”
“I’m a high school English teacher.”
“Really? Isn’t that lovely? My favorite subject in school.”
“Was it?”
“You’d better believe it! But my da wanted me outside playing stickball or starting fights, you know? He was an old-school gent himself and thought a boy’s job was to be out in the streets and it was the Bronx. He didn’t like seeing me with my nose in a book.”
“What was your favorite book when you were a child?”
“Dickens! David Copperfield.”
“A wonderful choice.”
“I think so, too. It was always another world for me, if you get my point and I must say I sometimes needed one. I still keep it by my bedside and dip into it now and again-just to refresh myself.”
He saw her smile in the mirror. “I still dip into it, as well. How’d you get into driving, Roy? Do you enjoy it?”
Roy’s flushed in embarrassment. “My da told me no use going to university because all I was good for was…well, you see. Not much. I’m a driver.”
“I mean no disrespect but your father was wrong to limit you in that way. And there’s no shame in being a driver, Roy. Never think that.”
As he guided them to the Boys and Girls Club and they’d parked, Mary surprised him by asking, “Would you mind escorting me in?”
He thought for one moment and said, “No. I’d be honored, ma’am.”
Jumping out of the car, he offered his arm to her, which she took with a smile. “What a gentleman.”
He found the courage to wink at her, “It’s my job.”
She patted his arm. “No. It comes naturally to you. I can tell.”
When they entered the building, a giddy young woman came forward, “Ms. Washington?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Sara Ford and I’m the volunteer coordinator for your son’s project.”
After Mary had introduced herself and Roy, Sara led them down a hallway. “Naturally, if you’d wanted it, we would have had a ribbon-cutting or publicity but Emily said you didn’t seem the type to want that.”
“Emily was right.”
“Then it’s good-I’m very glad. You’ll see it in operation. Two days in-and I think you’ll be astonished.”
And she was. Mary quickly made a count-thirty workstations, half Mac, half PC. At each one a child was working-nearly all of them had teens or adults sitting next to them.
“See, we’ve had plenty of adults and teens willing to tutor kids but no money for the computers or to be honest, even a me-someone to coordinate all of it. You wouldn’t believe how amazing the response has been. Once you have the capital expense, people come running in to help.”
Mary nodded but stifled a sob as she saw the fourth wall-which was an enormous canvas of her favorite picture of her son. She hadn’t understood why Emily had asked for it but had scanned and sent it and now there it was, with his name, covering the entire wall.
Mary grasped Roy’s hand as she looked around, “Yes. This is perfect.”
Sara’s smile was genuine. “I am so very, very glad you approve. This can’t change your loss-but look around this room. Your son is changing children’s lives.”
“If you’d known my son, you’d know nothing would have pleased him more. I’ll visit again.”
“And you’ll always be welcome.”
As they walked back to the car, Mary said, “It’s wonderful-but a memorial makes it so real, if you understand me.”
“Of course I do.”
“Sometimes, Roy, I try to imagine he’s just on vacation or something like that. Not something so permanent as dead. But he is dead. He doesn’t exist in this world anymore. And I have to keep remembering that, day after day after day.”
“I know that feeling, Mary. It’s…like that Emily Dickinson poem, right? After great pain, a formal feeling comes?”
“This is the hour of lead,” they said at the same time.
Mary laughed, and looked up at him through tears, “I am so glad you’re driving me today, Roy.”
“Likewise, ma’am, I’m sure.”
***
Roy drove her home and as he parked to let her out he said, “Mary?”
“Yes, Roy?”
“If you have no person who walks with you? Barkis is willin’.”
She laughed out loud. “So I’m Peggoty? I wish I were wearing an apron to throw over my face!”
He beamed. Someone who really knew his favorite book. “Would you maybe like…to go to lunch sometime-next weekend, maybe?”
“Of course, Roy.”
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Thank God! That was easy.”
Mary laughed again. “Finally. A man who admits how hard it is to ask for a date. I’m putting it down in my calendar. Did you know David Copperfield would do it?”
Roy grinned, saying “I thought an orphan lad out on his own for a while had some potential but if it hadn’t worked, I’d have pulled out my twins.”
“Unless you’re not telling me something, I’m assuming you’re talking about Miranda’s twins. Unless they actually are yours.”
Roy’s eyes widened, “Oh no. No no no on the sire side. But yes, I’m talking about Miranda’s girls. It’s just I’ve driven them all their lives. My da was very hard, as I’ve said, but he always told me to treat every child you meet as if he or she is yours. God help me in my case but you see the point. Children are precious.”
“That they are, Roy. I know too well.”
A few moments went by and Roy said, “I’m sorry, Mary. I have no children of my own and I didn’t mean to give you pain.”
“You didn’t, Roy. I can’t avoid talking about children for the rest of my life. And I wouldn’t even if I could, I promise you.”
“Your lad is surely laughing at me from heaven now. We men always laugh when we see each other being boneheads with women.”
“I like thinking of him like that.”
“Like what?”
“A man. I’ll never see him as a man.”
“Oh, of course you can. Men just fill out and get taller after about age 13-no difference beside that. Even emotionally. Just seeing his picture I can well imagine him a man.”
As they pulled up to her building, Mary said, “I don’t believe that, you know-about men.”
“Oh, I promise it’s true-but I suppose you’ll see this weekend, won’t you.”
“I suppose I will. Call me.” She handed him a slip of paper with her phone number on it and left the car.
He took it and carefully put it in his wallet and did, indeed, feel exactly like a 13 year old boy.
***
NEXT CHAPTER