IAR36A
It’s All Relative 36A
Author: hawkbehere (hawkbehere2@yahoo.com)
Rated: R-17
Happy birthday, R. I've never had a better friend.
***
Miranda’s voice was low and cool. “So. It’s come to this.”
Andy glanced at Miranda, who was sitting in the bed beside her wearing light blue pajamas, studiously staring at but not reading her book. Andy typed on her cell phone as she answered, “What? My t-shirt and sweatpants?”
“While I vaguely understand your outfit might be considered perfectly suitable nightwear or even business attire for some of the lesbians one might encounter in the wild, I’m actually referring to your using your phone in our bed.”
Andy chuckled but continued to type, “Ouch, Miranda. Give our lesbian sisters a break.”
“I will not. I have no siblings. I sprang fully formed from the head of Zeus. Who are you texting?”
“You know exactly who I’m chatting with so stow that attitude. All of this is your fault.”
Miranda placed her book on the bed and looked over her reading glasses at Andy, “I’m sure I couldn’t have heard what you just said correctly.”
“Really? Somehow I’m sure you not only could but did.”
“Andrea Sachs.”
”Miranda Priestly.”
“Put that phone down.”
“Sure. Just a sec.” Andy typed furiously for another thirty seconds, waited a few moments, read the reply, snorted and slapped the phone down on the bed. Turning toward Miranda, she saw that the eerily placid facial expression, which often belied a thunderous mood, instead belied amusement. Which made her smile. “There, sweetheart. I’m completely yours.”
Miranda raised an eyebrow, “In that outfit? Hardly.”
“Fine. Whose bright idea was it to go without sex for a month before getting married?”
“Mine.”
“Right. And who decided to make Emily run the best man-wedding planner gauntlet through me?”
“I did.”
“Right again.” Andy gestured at her clothing, “Hence the lustkiller PJs.” She held up her phone. “Hence the heated and epic chat relationship that will probably end in homicide.”
“Hyperbole.”
“Quoted for truth,” Andy said as she picked up the phone, scrolled, and handed it to Miranda. “Our lovefest from this morning. Read what thou hast wrought, Athena.”
Emily Charlton: I can’t believe I even have to type this question
Andy Sachs: We could actually talk, you know. It’s a new feature phones have
Emily Charlton: I prefer to keep a measure of plausible deniability about my interaction with you
Andy Sachs: Question?
Emily Charlton: About the hen do
Andy Sachs: Got it. It’s spelled Hindu
Emily Charlton: …
Andy Sachs: Sorry. I know. Hen party, stag party
Andy Sachs: We call them bachelor and bachelorette parties
Emily Charlton: Yes. Thank you, miss. Can you see my problem?
Andy Sachs: Probably. Wondering who the hen is?
Emily Charlton: No. Anyone can see you’re the hen. But finishing the implied syllogism isn’t exactly on even if true, is it?
Andy Sachs: You ever notice you become excessively formal when you’re nervous about M? Because I do. Also, your intelligence is showing and that’s sort of hot, Em
Emily Charlton: Just when I thought I couldn’t hate you more
Andy Sachs: Please. You don’t hate me
Emily Charlton: Au contraire, mon ennemi. As in employ a food taster now
Andy Sachs: Nice. Re question. One party. We have too few guests to have two
Emily Charlton: Will she go for it?
Andy Sachs: Sure. I’m the bride. What I say goes
Emily Charlton: Is that implying Miranda’s the groom?
Andy Sachs: So? You called her a stag
Emily Charlton: Are you ten years old?
Andy Sachs: No. That would make Miranda twenty
Emily Charlton: …
Emily Charlton: I believe the word I’m searching for is wow
Andy Sachs: Indeed. One party, Emily. That’s all
Emily Charlton: Oh no. I’m suddenly enjoying this
Andy Sachs: Shut up
Emily Charlton: And they pay you to write. Any suggestions for the one party?
Andy Sachs: Knock yourself out
Emily Charlton: With three children in the room?
Andy Sachs: Good catch. Cancel the strippers
Emily Charlton: …
Andy Sachs: Tough room. Let’s just have a low-key thing that’s only a party in the sense it has a gathering of people with music, food and drink
Emily Charlton: If you say so but you’re taking the bullet if she’s bored rigid. Oh wait. Who am I talking to? Of course you’re not
Andy Sachs: And speaking of wow
Andy Sachs: Hard to believe you went there
Emily Charlton: I shouldn’t have. That was completely uncalled for
Andy Sachs: Uh huh
Emily Charlton: I apologize
Andy Sachs: Good. You’re forgiven
Emily Charlton: You’re too easy
Andy Sachs: It’s called being an adult
Emily Charlton: Debatable
Andy Sachs: When speaking with you? Granted. That all?
Emily Charlton: For now
Andy Sachs: Later then
Emily Charlton: Yes. Thank you Andy
Andy Sachs: Welcome
Emily Charlton: I’d been shuddering to think what I’d do if I had to divide guests into the two parties
Andy Sachs: IKR? Not to mention guessing what Miranda would find appropriate for her boy’s night out, or in as the case may be
Andy Sachs: You shouldn’t have worried. I’d never do that to you
Emily Charlton: I’d do it to you, laughing
Andy Sachs: Oh, I know that. Later. XO, Em
Emily Charlton: Stop that
Andy Sachs: Spoil sport. Oh wait. Question. Who’s the hen when you two get married?
Emily Charlton: Who?
Andy Sachs: Picture my big doe eyes rolling. You and Brazil
Emily Charlton: We’re not engaged
Andy Sachs: Matter of time. Indulge me
Emily Charlton: Why create a precedent?
Andy Sachs: WTFE. You’re the hen
Emily Charlton: F you
Andy Sachs: Thanks but no. You won’t even X me so you don’t get to F me. That and I AM engaged
Emily Charlton: That neatly explains the immense sulphurous cannon ball with Andy’s Wedding engraved and chained around one ankle
Andy Sachs: Aw, Em. I know it’s a pain in the ass but at least we’re in it together
Emily Charlton: You say these things to torment me, don’t you?
Andy Sachs: Uh huh
Emily Charlton: Well done. Remember I can’t miss you if you won’t go away
Andy Sachs: Watch it. That almost sounded friendly
Emily Charlton: (crickets)
Andy Sachs: Later, tomater
Emily Charlton: You do know that doesn’t rhyme in my accent? It doesn’t even rhyme in yours
Andy Sachs: It’s a near rhyme
Emily Charlton: It’s not a near rhyme if you have to add an R
Andy Sachs: I used poetic license for that part
Emily Charlton: Three words: Food taster. Goodbye
Andy Sachs: After a while, crocodile
Emily Charlton: THAT’S a near rhyme
Andy Sachs: Thank you miss
Emily Charlton: Goodbye. Stop typing
Andy Sachs: You stop answering me
Emily Charlton: OMG
Andy Sachs: hahahaha…last word!
Emily Charlton: (s)!
Andy Sachs: Bitch
Emily Charlton: Miss Bitch to you
Miranda handed Andy’s phone back to her, “It reads like tweens navigating a crush they don’t know they have. But exactly.”
“I know it does. I thought we were bad at Runway but now we’ve completely devolved.”Andy leaned forward and kissed Miranda’s cheek, “Just remember something. Emily would walk through a field of lava to make you happy and that means she’s having to make me happy. That’s not the most enviable position to be in for her so don’t even entertain the thought of doing anything mean to her for being a bitch with me.”
“You wound me by even entertaining the thought I would.”
Andy raised an eyebrow and Miranda tilted her head to consider the effect, “You’re getting better at that, darling.”
“I’m nowhere near the master.”
“You could be. Come here.” Miranda beckoned with a lifted arm, Andy scooted over, positioned herself and they both relaxed into the full body hug, “There. Isn’t that better?”
“It is,” Andy sighed.
Miranda threaded her fingers through the girl’s dark hair as she asked, “Is this wedding planning becoming too stressful? Can I help with anything?”
“To be honest, yes it’s too stressful. On one hand, it’s not remotely the hell of Paris Fashion Week but on the other, it is our wedding and a one-time deal I really want to be nice for us and I…guess to answer your other question, thanks but no thanks. Getting you into the mix would make this feel even more like I’m the second assistant in Dante’s Inferno than I already do.”
“How charmingly you remember your employment with me. Nevertheless, one hopes we can forgo the excitement of Emily’s being hit by a car or your doing a Paris phone dump in Vermont.”
“God forbid the former and as far as the latter is concerned, Emily would hunt me down and murder me if I didn’t show.”
Miranda kissed the top of Andy’s head. “Should I be worried that you’re more concerned about Emily than rushing to shore up my insecurity about whether you’ll show for the wedding?”
“You have to be kidding me. Please.” Andy pulled gently away from Miranda just enough to prop her head on her hand and look into the woman’s eyes. “I couldn’t just toss my phone and walk. That inn’s so damned secluded I’d have to drive out and it’s not like you guys wouldn’t notice I was gone in time to stop me. Anyway, it’s too late for planning escape contingencies because Em and I are way past the ceremony part. We’re in the middle of catering and if I’m going through the water torture of planning the reception food with the most pernickety person I’ve ever known excepting you, you’d better believe nothing on Earth’s keeping me from eating it.”
Miranda looked at Andy for a long moment, “To paraphrase the children-if that was reassurance, you’re doing it wrong.”
Andy exhaled loudly before replying. “I know I am, sweetie. Ignore me. I really can’t wait to marry you but planning it’s getting on my last nerve. And there’s nothing you can do for my nerves,” she said as she patted the duvet covering Miranda’s stomach, “now that you’ve taken sex off the menu.”
“Well, that was certainly a segue. Is that in actuality what’s making you so surly tonight-our sexual abstinence?”
“In actuality, Miranda, I’m not being surly at all. Are you sure you’re not feeling surly for some reason you’re projecting onto me?”
Miranda pursed her lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Andy smiled, sat up and crossed her legs facing the woman. “I’ll pretend I believe you. That said, I don’t mind going on record-thirty days is a ridiculous amount of time to go without when it’s fairly capriciously symbolic.”
“You could have said no.”
“No I couldn’t. It seemed important to you when you suggested it.”
“It was.”
“That past tense has been noted.”
“There’s no need for impertinence.”
“Oh, I need it alright. Impertinence is my chain mail with you, lady.”
Miranda’s lips twitched but she didn’t smile, “I know you’re using that in the armoury sense of the word, but I’m taking it in the annoyingly excessive epistolary sense.”
“Of course you are,” Andy said, thinking that Miranda looked annoyingly and excessively smug. But she also looked so pretty and comfortable and peaceful in the midst of their faux-bickering that Andy’s stomach suddenly flipped. She leaned forward and cupped the woman’s cheek. “I adore you.”
“It’s mutual.”
Andy grinned, “Then we can just adore each other really hard for the next eleven days. Think that’ll suffice?”
“No, but we’ll live. I didn’t have sex with John for three months after the twins were born. It can be done.”
Andy rolled her eyes, “You know what? Because I love John, I won’t even go where you would go if I mentioned sex with my most significant ex-partner in our bed. But back to your point. You had a Caesarean-was it that awful?”
“Not really. I held out for months just for the principle of the thing.” She almost smiled, “I’m sure you’ll find this difficult to believe but at that point in my life I was not only petty enough but vain enough to resent John for the scar.”
Andy’s nod was almost imperceptible. The amusement in her eyes wasn’t.
Miranda sniffed, “Yes. Had I known it would be the first and best of my surgical scars, I would have slept with him in two weeks.”
Andy smiled. “See? Are you seeing this? You’ve just mentioned sex you actually had with a man twice in our bed in the last ten minutes and I haven’t increased my froideur one iota.” She sniffed. “Just showing you how it’s done.”
Miranda’s lips twitched. “Your far greater maturity is noted.”
Andy scowled at her but then lowered her head and her voice, “I know we never talk about your scars and I promise I’m not really trying to talk about them now but you brought it up so I’ll just say I understand. Obviously, I never saw your body without your first two scars, so they’re sort of just you to me. But I do resent the hell out of the one on your arm-because…well, you know why. There’s a lot of why for that one.”
Miranda took Andy’s hand and squeezed it softly, her voice soft and warm, “Look at me.” Andy raised her head. “Don’t, Andrea. It’s done and it’s not worth even thinking about, let alone wasting the time it takes to label your feelings of anger and guilt as resentment. And don’t cavil with me about my saying that because we both know it’s true.”
Andy shifted uncomfortably, “I’m sorry I brought it up.”
“I’m not.”
Miranda lifted an eyebrow and Andy could see from the expression on her face that a swift change in attitude was in order.
“Right. Sorry. Wrong tone. You were saying?”
“Thank you. If you truly need to talk about this again, I’ll always be willing to accommodate you but if not, let this be an end to discussing my scars. I have three physical scars. The first was planned and a visually nominal indication of the least nominal fact of my life-my children. The second is, visually, an untidy reminder that the way I am in the world can reap painful consequences in other people’s lives and in my own. I shouldn’t have been surprised by it but I was. I was profoundly shocked. The third was by far the most painful and it’s enormous and jagged and ugly. It didn’t surprise me in the least that protecting someone I love would hurt but I feel proud and, indeed, grateful, that I was who I’d always hoped I’d be if tested with my life.”
Andy ran one hand over Miranda’s arm and bit her lower lip before saying, “I wasn’t.”
“I couldn’t let you be, Andrea. I’m an editor. I made the choice. You save my life every day. I’ve only saved yours once.”
***
Eleven Days Later
***
Honestly, Emily thought, as she frowned out at the dawn, if she’d wanted bucolic settings and flippant weather, she’d have stayed in England. Snow in April. She’d never longed for New York more than after spending one night in an admittedly fabulous room in a fabulous inn whose sole occupants were the wedding party, if you counted every person attending the wedding as members of the party, which she’d had to since she’d made the bloody reservations for them.
Unable to ignore Emily’s loud sighing any longer, Serena propped herself up on one elbow in their bed and watched Emily watching the snow. They were trapped until at least 8AM. Upon their arrival the night before and as a measure meant to suggest the trip was a holiday of sorts, Miranda had suggested that it would be fine if anyone wanted to sleep in. Emily had forced herself not to roll her eyes because this was, naturally, akin to issuing a papal bull stating the necessity of everyone’s sleeping in. Andy had pulled Serena aside to talk about this:
“Just stay in your room and order room service tomorrow morning. Miranda thinks it’s a good idea now but when she’s looking out the window and pacing for two hours before she can come down and pretend she’s slept in, she’ll realize differently.”
As employer, so employee.
“What are you thinking, English?”
Emily looked back at Serena, who looked predictably perfect despite the hour, “I was thinking I could have just stayed in England if I wanted this and that breakfast can’t come fast enough.”
“Ah. Yes. However, if anything could verify you’re not in England, it would be scrambled egg whites with one piece of dry wheat toast.”
“It’s the perfect breakfast.”
“It perfectly struggles not to disappear on the plate and since this event is casual and you don’t have to fit into anything cruel today, your breakfast begs a question I already know the answer to. You’re eating paper because you imagine that Andy and Miranda will be but I can assure you there’s no need for solidarity. Apparently they find final fittings to be an aperitif-Nigel and I thought they both ate like wolves after.”
Emily shook her head, “Wait. Are you saying they saw each other’s dresses?”
“No no. They never. Two different days of course but if you’d seen how ravenous they-“
“Hold please.”
Serena stopped speaking immediately because she realized she’d stepped right on a sore point. Emily hadn’t seen anything at all except, apparently, the penny she’d just let drop. Emily’s voice cooled as she narrowed her eyes, “I can not believe this. You know what they’re wearing, don’t you?”
Serena hesitated and offered a tentative, “No?”
“Really.” Emily crossed her arms and quietly tapped one foot on the floor. “Is that your final answer?”
“Alright. I do know. Acra and Herrera.”
“Andy in Acra.”
“Naturally.”
Serena watched Emily toy with the idea of holding onto resentment as a side item for breakfast with her egg whites and toast. She knew Emily imagined herself inscrutable but in reality her emotions were as obvious as sky-writing.
Emily worked through her emotions and came out with, “They’ll be perfect?”
Serena smiled what Emily considered the woman’s very laziest and sexiest smile, “Miranda Priestly. And Nigel dressing Andy for Miranda Priestly. What do you think?”
“I think I hate you for seeing what they’re wearing when I haven’t.”
“Hate me if you like to but it was Miranda. She would know you would try to accent yourself somehow for her and Miranda has asked you to stand as yourself. She does not want a token person in a dress coordinated for her as you might think she might want in a Runway way. This is a personal honor she extends to you, Emily. So she does not ask or show you anything. She doesn’t want you to look or be anything except yourself or anywhere except standing beside her today. She’s asked you the privilege of that. Grow with her. She is learning, English. You need to, as well.”
Emily looked from Serena to the snow falling, and back again. “If you’re going to be continually reasonable and right, Serena, it’s going to be a very long, long-weekend.”
Serena smiled, “Get back in bed with me, little one. Breakfast soon. I ordered a true English breakfast twice for me. You get half. Calories do not count in Vermont. I read this on the Internet.”
Emily smiled and pounced back into the bed.
**
“What’s up?” Cassidy mumbled as she opened her eyes and saw her sister changing clothes and moving through their darkened room.
“Sorry. Me. Not you. Go back to sleep-it’s snowing. I’m taking pictures.”
“Did you finish your speech?”
“Our speech-and yeah. All done.”
“It’s yours if you’re giving it, doofus.”
“Me. You. Same difference, right?”
Cassidy smiled a very sad, gentle smile. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Language, Cassidy, and looking for something,” Caroline whispered as she scrounged through her camera bag and finally held up two items Cassidy couldn’t really see. “Ta da!”
“Do I need to know what the ta da is?”
“Nope-go back to sleep.”
“Like that’s happening. I’ll read your speech when you get back.”
“You don’t have to-I made it nice.”
“Fine but you do know Maggie’s going to catch you sneaking out, don’t you?”
“It’s not exactly sneaking out if I’m just walking out, right? And it’s no biggie. I’m shooting establishing shots for the wedding.”
Cassidy sighed. They’d had this discussion before. “Mom would totally let you shoot the whole thing but you’re in the wedding party. You can’t take the pictures and not be in the pictures.”
“A camera’s part of my outfit almost every day. So what? I’ll smile for the camera with a camera around my neck.”
Cassidy exhaled sharply. “What was the ta da?”
“Another lens and a thingy you don’t need to know the name of that’ll keep the snow off it.”
“Okay.”
Caroline felt the weight in the air. “Cassidy-I’m just taking pictures.”
“You’re really nervous.”
“No I’m not.”
“Yes you are. You go behind your camera when you’re nervous.”
Caroline packed her gear and said, “That would mean I’m almost always nervous.”
“Yeah. It sorta does. I’m really sorry about that, Car.”
Caroline smiled at Cassidy in the darkened room and knew her twin would almost hear it even if she couldn’t see it. “It’s just how I am but yeah, okay. Photography’s better than drugs, right?”
Cassidy sighed but said, “You bet.”
“So I’ll see you soon, genetically identical.”
Cassidy chuckled. “Jayce and I’ll wait for breakfast with you, okay? I really, really want to have breakfast with you today, genetically identical.”
Caroline’s eyes welled with tears but she said, “Pancakes?”
“Carbs when Mom can’t say anything about them? Is that even a question?”
Things were truly changing and Caroline was frightened and Cassidy knew it. Pancakes were a deflection of what they were feeling but it was a perfect answer.
**
Magdelena did indeed hear Caroline as she snuck downstairs. She was watching the snow from the kitchen window and looked so sad that Caroline paused before she took a picture of her. The little girl didn’t know she’d been heard until Magdalena said very quietly without turning around, “Good morning, Caroline. Snowing. Vermont. A good day for pictures, no?”
Caroline smiled. She loved their Maggie. She knew how to be sad just like she was. “It’s cold and boring but why don’t you put some real clothes and a coat on? Let’s take some together.”
Magdalena rushed to do so and they took pictures outside together. Doing so on such a strange and momentous day with the person she worried most about in their family, a person who was the mysterious daughter of the most mysterious person in her life, was about the happiest relief Magdalena had ever felt.
**
Richard held Audrey in his arms as they watched the morning snowfall. They were both awake and silent for a long, long time before Audrey whispered, “What are you thinking?”
He whispered, “Our little girl’s getting married today.”
“To a woman.”
He sighed and said with the heaviest of sadness in his voice, “Audrey. Please.”
She reached back and patted his hip gently and said lightly. “No no, Rich. I’m not angry or sad. It’s my baby’s wedding day but it’s not what I expected. That’s all.”
“I know that, sweetheart. Andy knows that, too.”
Audrey shook her head as she watched the white snow fall. “I wanted a white knight for our girl.”
A few moments passed before he stroked her hair and said, “She got the white hair part, Aud.”
Audrey laughed and it was a real laugh. “That she did.” She pulled him closer to her. “Don’t think I’m not happy, Richard. Or won’t be. I’m just bewildered. In the sense I’m lost but that doesn’t mean I’m not happy.”
She clasped one of his large hands in hers. “Even in mythology, being lost means you might be moving toward your fate. You’ll be walking Andy toward her fate today. I’m her mother, Richard. You can be her father all day long but I’m her mother. I want to know what will happen before it happens and I know I can’t. That’s all I mean. You’re watching your daughter get married. You made her with me but I held her and created her within me and I don’t know what to do about giving her to someone else. I’m frightened because I don’t know the end of the story.”
He pulled her to him and kissed her. “I think the end of story is that Andy will be happily married. And we can’t change fate, Aud. Let go and let’s enjoy a happy day.”
There was a long moment before she said, “You’re being tiresome and reasonable, Richard. We should order breakfast.”
He smiled down at her. “Breakfast is overrated, Audrey.”
She smiled up him. “And can be ordered late. We’re sleeping in.”
“No we’re not.”
He rolled on top of her and kissed her. She laughed and said “Breakfast is so overrated.”
**
Wanda was up with the birds. “Papi? I don’t know what la jefa thinks to sleep so long.”
Carlo scrubbed his face with his hands. He wasn’t used to luxury. He wanted to enjoy it but his wife was awake so talk he must. “She is trying to be nice. She wants us to sleep.”
They were native Spanish speakers but always spoke English with each other to keep their skills good enough for their Juan Carlo.
Wanda shrugged and scowled at the snow. “Si-yes. There I see Caroline and Magdalena taking the pictures in the snow. What should we be doing?”
“Sleeping?”
“It is like you to say so but what can we do?”
“About what?”
“Today.”
“We dress and go to the wedding.”
“Everyone is awake. I can feel it, papi.”
“Breakfast?”
“It is too early, I think.”
“It is. Come back to bed and sleep with me one hour. Por favor. We will get the reputation as Latin lovers. Por favor, mami. I never get to sleep until real light. Come back to bed and sleep or I will feel bad with you awake.”
Wanda looked at her dearest husband, who had worked double shifts for a solid week to be in this place for their family and friends. She closed the drapes to darken the room more fully. She slipped into bed and wrapped herself around him. “Sleep even two hours, papi. They will call the police to find us maybe.”
He smiled and drifted off immediately. She put her head on his chest and found she might be able to rest after all.
**
John woke up and put on his winter running gear.
Cecelia sighed as she heard him moving around the room. “Seriously, John? Running here?”
“You run where you are, Cece.”
“I sleep where I am.”
“Good for you.” He sat by her prostrate form on the bed, “Thanks for coming.”
Cecelia smiled up hazily at him, “If you think I’d miss Mrs. Priestly getting married again, you’ve got the wrong woman.”
He smiled down at her and kissed her. “I’ve got exactly the right woman.”
“Good answer. Run. Wake me for the whole mutual shower and breakfast thing.”
With the mutual shower mention, John had much more pep in his step as he left the room for his run.
**
Doug and Lily slept in adjacent rooms. Lily knocked on his door and he opened it, bleary-eyed. She held up a pack of UNO cards she’d brought. He smiled, waved her in and they ordered an early room-service breakfast. They agreed to play to 1000.
***
Juan Carlo slipped from his bed. He looked at the snowfall from his window. He felt very much the man with his own room like only Sam and Doug and Nigel had. He saw Caroline and Magdalena taking pictures and smiled. But it meant Cassidy was by herself. She would be awake if Caroline was. It would not be appropriate for a young man to go to a young woman’s bedroom by himself. He knew this so he put on his slippers, walked a short way down the hall to Sam’s room and knocked on the door.
Sam came to the door almost immediately in shorts and a t-shirt and asked, “Wassup, man?”
“I’m sorry to wake or bother you, Sam, but Caroline is taking pictures outside. I know if she is awake, Cassidy is too. Cassidy is alone but I would like to visit her. Will you please escort me so that I can keep her company in a respectful way?”
Sam was sleepily and completely charmed. “Totally, dude. Let me get some jeans on. You go get some clothes on, too. Can’t let the ladies see us in our jammies.”
Juan Carlo suddenly looked alarmed and whispered, “What if she is in sleepwear? Is that appropriate?”
‘What a kid,’ Sam thought as he smiled down at him. “We knock and say we want to visit, dude, and then she goes and changes while we wait. It’s cool.”
Juan Carlo exhaled fiercely, “Thank you, Sam. Manhood is very difficult.”
Sam refused to laugh at the little boy. “No lie, bro. Go get changed. Meetcha in the hall.”
***
Nigel was sleeping like a top.
***
Mary was awake and Roy was awake. They were snuggled together in bed but could feel, if they didn’t hear, people awake all around them.
“I know why Wanda and Carlo are awake but is there any reason all these white folk need to get up so early when they don’t have to?”
“That’s a question for the ages, Mary. But you must know Miranda is awake at about 5AM. She goes to sleep at 12AM usually. She’s the hardest working person I’ve known in my life and I’ve never been anything but a blue collar man.”
“I wasn’t casting aspersions.”
He shifted away from her.
“Never say you weren’t. You were. And I know you’re kind but you don’t know her. Miranda is a multi-millionaire, Mary. I know that. I’m only her driver. You’re only a teacher. But she works harder every day than we ever will. You don’t know what it is to be her. Don’t ever disparage her to me. She is my family.”
“Roy. Please. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I know you’re so kind you don’t mean to say anything that would hurt me and I know you care enough to come to her marriage. I’m saying for anyone to even think anything unkind about Miranda kills me because I know her and I love her and you only half-know her and don’t love her yet.”
He leapt up and rummaged through his luggage and produced a box and knelt at her feet as she lay on the bed. “This might not be a good time to say this because we seem at crossroads but my da always said crossroads mean inroads.” He opened the box and said, “Would you please, please give me the honor of being your husband?”
Mary looked at a truly startling ring, as surprised as she’d ever been in her life. She beamed at him. “Of course I will, Roy.”
Roy sighed, placed the ring on her finger and Mary smiled down at him as she said, “And to surprise you right back? We’re pregnant.”
He gaped. “Pregnant? No we’re not. What are you saying to me?”
“We’re going to have a baby, Roy.”
He tried to put his hands on his fiancée’s stomach but pulled them back in awe. “Never in this lifetime. I’m not good enough for this. Jesus, Mary and Joseph.” He pointed at her stomach. “Are you saying our baby’s in there?”
“Yes. Our child is inside me.”
He seemed to deflate and Mary watched him as he looked vaguely around her stomach. “A child. Our child. You’re saying we’ll have a child?”
She smiled down at him. “Yes, God willing. A boy or a girl. We can’t know which yet.”
“Who could care which? A girl I hope! Or maybe a boy!” He put his head on her stomach and began to cry.
Mary ran her fingers through his hair, supremely happy to know he’d wanted to marry her even without her big news.
**
They breakfasted apart and together. And together gathered for a ‘team’ meeting called by Emily at 9:30. She grimaced as she said, “I’m sure you all enjoyed sleeping in this morning.” The wedding party smiled in grumpy unison as she said. “You’re all free until 1500 or 3PM as you Americans choose to call it. At that point, we’ll do a quick rehearsal for the ceremony at 1800 or 6PM as you Americans choose to call it. If you need anything at all, you have my cell number. Text and I’ll text back.”
“Emily?”
Emily glowered at Andy. “Yes, princess?”
“Texting? We’re all in the same building.”
“And I want to sit still for any of you to find me exactly because?”
“Emily.”
“Miranda?”
“Relax.”
Emily just looked at her boss and then exploded in laughter. Andy did, too.
Miranda said, “What?”
Andy patted her fiancée, crossed the floor and hugged Emily as she continued to laugh. She whisper-sang, “Relax. Don’t do it, when you want to go to it...”
Emily whispered to Andy, “That’s vulgar but ta for that.” She lifted her head and voice to everyone. “You have your marching orders. You included, Miranda. I’m the captain on this good ship Marriage. I’ll see you all soon.”
Andy joined Miranda and was flummoxed when the woman said, “Don’t think I didn’t hear that. You actually quoted Frankie Goes to Hollywood lyrics on our wedding day?”
Andy shrugged.
***
Andy and Miranda had no idea that Emily would spring something on them at 2PM. None at all.
Their mutual texts read:
EmilyCharlton: Father Michael is here to discuss the ceremony.
Miranda gaped at it and said, “I can kill her, can’t I?”
Andy smiled. Emily was trying. “Nope. Let’s go see Father Mike.”
Father Michael was older than Miranda and his hair was whiter, if that were possible.
“Hello. I’m Father Michael Sullivan and I will be officiating your wedding. I’d like to speak to you privately before the celebration of your wedding.”
***
Miranda stared at him. “Are you actually an Irish priest? Is Emily attempting to kill me?”
He smiled at her. “My father and mother were Irish, born and bred. I’m merely an old offshoot. I’m here to officiate as a justice of the peace, which I am, but also as a priest, which I am, as well. The priest part will not be official, as you know. But I do this, as children say I believe, on the downlow. Emily, believe me, only found me after much effort. I do not advertise my willingness to bless these unions because it upsets my Bishop. Emily knows you are Catholic, Ms. Priestly, and that you are Episcopalian, Ms. Sachs. She believed having a religious observance of your union would be important and meaningful to you.”
Andy smiled at him. “It’s the best wedding gift we’ll get, Father Michael.”
He smiled at her. “Very well. Let’s go into this room Emily’s provided for us so we can speak for a few minutes.”
Andy held Miranda’s hand. Miranda was never happily shanghaied. They crossed to a small room and all took a seat.
He smiled at them and said, “Since I will be marrying you today, would you mind telling me briefly why it’s come to this?”
Miranda stared at him and Andy quickly said, “Come to what?”
“Marriage. Why are you getting married?”
Andy pulled her chin back. “What do you mean?”
He ran one hand over his white hair. “You see? I mean, I’ve married more than, maybe, 5000 couples over my years as a priest and almost none of them knew why they were getting married. Some, surely, had children they felt they had to legitimize. Some had family pressure. Financial pressure. Some had romantic ideas that were pie in the sky. You two have none of these things. Why are you getting married. It’s a question I should ask, I think, if I’m to marry you.”
Andy glanced at Miranda, who was pursing her lips in a not good way. She looked from Miranda to Father Michael with just enough alarm he could see it.
He smiled. “I’m not being confrontational. I’m being a priest. You didn’t ask for one but you’ve got one. You don’t have to justify yourselves to me and I’ll certainly marry you as a court official. That said, I have found it beneficial to the celebrants to express themselves concerning their reasons for marriage before the event. If they can’t tell me why they’re marrying, no matter the reason, it’s not a marriage. They feel it. I feel it, as well.”
Andy took Miranda’s hand and said, “Thank you for being so thoughtful and mindful of the meaning and the sanctity of marriage. We appreciate your officiating for us. The reasons we’re marrying will be in our vows we’ve written for each other. They’re a surprise for us both but I can assure you, Father Michael, we have more than ample reason to blend our lives forever. I promise you that. I came back into this woman’s life to care for her and love her. I have never left her since and I never will. She-she stood between me and death. Nothing will keep us from each other but death.”
Father Michael smiled at Andy and Miranda was so moved she chose to ignore it as she took a deep breath. “I agree with Andrea and appreciate your officiating, as well. It’s a lovely thing to have a priest for my wedding. Forgive me if sometimes being given the nth degree by a priest rankles after a Catholic upbringing.”
He understood them, barked out a loud, short and happy laugh. “Doesn’t it always! Get going. I’ll say the typical formalities and then you may say your vows. Of course no communion but I will bless you with oil and holy water and pronounce you married, if that’s acceptable to you.”
Miranda smiled at him. “Thank you, Father.”
Andy said, “Stay for the reception, please.”
“Ah, your Emily booked a room for me for three days. I’m going hiking with my dog the whole time. A little sabbatical.”
Miranda blinked her eyes. “If your dog is well-behaved with other dogs and quiet, it can come to the ceremony. Our dog is attending.”
“You have a dog?”
“Patricia. She’s a St. Bernard. She’s nearly somnolent always.”
“Then I will bring St. Roch. He’s an Australian cattle dog but he’s a Christian with other dogs but especially if I wear my robes, which I will be. He will be still and enjoy your marriage.”
Miranda almost smiled at this. “He can enjoy the hospitality of the bedded kennel rooms afterward. They have long runs for each room.”
Andy did smile, “When you see the facilities, you’ll almost want to sleep in them instead of your room.”
Father Michael grinned. “Dog lovers, I see. Why didn’t you say so? I’ll marry you.”
Next Chapter
Author: hawkbehere (hawkbehere2@yahoo.com)
Rated: R-17
Happy birthday, R. I've never had a better friend.
***
Miranda’s voice was low and cool. “So. It’s come to this.”
Andy glanced at Miranda, who was sitting in the bed beside her wearing light blue pajamas, studiously staring at but not reading her book. Andy typed on her cell phone as she answered, “What? My t-shirt and sweatpants?”
“While I vaguely understand your outfit might be considered perfectly suitable nightwear or even business attire for some of the lesbians one might encounter in the wild, I’m actually referring to your using your phone in our bed.”
Andy chuckled but continued to type, “Ouch, Miranda. Give our lesbian sisters a break.”
“I will not. I have no siblings. I sprang fully formed from the head of Zeus. Who are you texting?”
“You know exactly who I’m chatting with so stow that attitude. All of this is your fault.”
Miranda placed her book on the bed and looked over her reading glasses at Andy, “I’m sure I couldn’t have heard what you just said correctly.”
“Really? Somehow I’m sure you not only could but did.”
“Andrea Sachs.”
”Miranda Priestly.”
“Put that phone down.”
“Sure. Just a sec.” Andy typed furiously for another thirty seconds, waited a few moments, read the reply, snorted and slapped the phone down on the bed. Turning toward Miranda, she saw that the eerily placid facial expression, which often belied a thunderous mood, instead belied amusement. Which made her smile. “There, sweetheart. I’m completely yours.”
Miranda raised an eyebrow, “In that outfit? Hardly.”
“Fine. Whose bright idea was it to go without sex for a month before getting married?”
“Mine.”
“Right. And who decided to make Emily run the best man-wedding planner gauntlet through me?”
“I did.”
“Right again.” Andy gestured at her clothing, “Hence the lustkiller PJs.” She held up her phone. “Hence the heated and epic chat relationship that will probably end in homicide.”
“Hyperbole.”
“Quoted for truth,” Andy said as she picked up the phone, scrolled, and handed it to Miranda. “Our lovefest from this morning. Read what thou hast wrought, Athena.”
Emily Charlton: I can’t believe I even have to type this question
Andy Sachs: We could actually talk, you know. It’s a new feature phones have
Emily Charlton: I prefer to keep a measure of plausible deniability about my interaction with you
Andy Sachs: Question?
Emily Charlton: About the hen do
Andy Sachs: Got it. It’s spelled Hindu
Emily Charlton: …
Andy Sachs: Sorry. I know. Hen party, stag party
Andy Sachs: We call them bachelor and bachelorette parties
Emily Charlton: Yes. Thank you, miss. Can you see my problem?
Andy Sachs: Probably. Wondering who the hen is?
Emily Charlton: No. Anyone can see you’re the hen. But finishing the implied syllogism isn’t exactly on even if true, is it?
Andy Sachs: You ever notice you become excessively formal when you’re nervous about M? Because I do. Also, your intelligence is showing and that’s sort of hot, Em
Emily Charlton: Just when I thought I couldn’t hate you more
Andy Sachs: Please. You don’t hate me
Emily Charlton: Au contraire, mon ennemi. As in employ a food taster now
Andy Sachs: Nice. Re question. One party. We have too few guests to have two
Emily Charlton: Will she go for it?
Andy Sachs: Sure. I’m the bride. What I say goes
Emily Charlton: Is that implying Miranda’s the groom?
Andy Sachs: So? You called her a stag
Emily Charlton: Are you ten years old?
Andy Sachs: No. That would make Miranda twenty
Emily Charlton: …
Emily Charlton: I believe the word I’m searching for is wow
Andy Sachs: Indeed. One party, Emily. That’s all
Emily Charlton: Oh no. I’m suddenly enjoying this
Andy Sachs: Shut up
Emily Charlton: And they pay you to write. Any suggestions for the one party?
Andy Sachs: Knock yourself out
Emily Charlton: With three children in the room?
Andy Sachs: Good catch. Cancel the strippers
Emily Charlton: …
Andy Sachs: Tough room. Let’s just have a low-key thing that’s only a party in the sense it has a gathering of people with music, food and drink
Emily Charlton: If you say so but you’re taking the bullet if she’s bored rigid. Oh wait. Who am I talking to? Of course you’re not
Andy Sachs: And speaking of wow
Andy Sachs: Hard to believe you went there
Emily Charlton: I shouldn’t have. That was completely uncalled for
Andy Sachs: Uh huh
Emily Charlton: I apologize
Andy Sachs: Good. You’re forgiven
Emily Charlton: You’re too easy
Andy Sachs: It’s called being an adult
Emily Charlton: Debatable
Andy Sachs: When speaking with you? Granted. That all?
Emily Charlton: For now
Andy Sachs: Later then
Emily Charlton: Yes. Thank you Andy
Andy Sachs: Welcome
Emily Charlton: I’d been shuddering to think what I’d do if I had to divide guests into the two parties
Andy Sachs: IKR? Not to mention guessing what Miranda would find appropriate for her boy’s night out, or in as the case may be
Andy Sachs: You shouldn’t have worried. I’d never do that to you
Emily Charlton: I’d do it to you, laughing
Andy Sachs: Oh, I know that. Later. XO, Em
Emily Charlton: Stop that
Andy Sachs: Spoil sport. Oh wait. Question. Who’s the hen when you two get married?
Emily Charlton: Who?
Andy Sachs: Picture my big doe eyes rolling. You and Brazil
Emily Charlton: We’re not engaged
Andy Sachs: Matter of time. Indulge me
Emily Charlton: Why create a precedent?
Andy Sachs: WTFE. You’re the hen
Emily Charlton: F you
Andy Sachs: Thanks but no. You won’t even X me so you don’t get to F me. That and I AM engaged
Emily Charlton: That neatly explains the immense sulphurous cannon ball with Andy’s Wedding engraved and chained around one ankle
Andy Sachs: Aw, Em. I know it’s a pain in the ass but at least we’re in it together
Emily Charlton: You say these things to torment me, don’t you?
Andy Sachs: Uh huh
Emily Charlton: Well done. Remember I can’t miss you if you won’t go away
Andy Sachs: Watch it. That almost sounded friendly
Emily Charlton: (crickets)
Andy Sachs: Later, tomater
Emily Charlton: You do know that doesn’t rhyme in my accent? It doesn’t even rhyme in yours
Andy Sachs: It’s a near rhyme
Emily Charlton: It’s not a near rhyme if you have to add an R
Andy Sachs: I used poetic license for that part
Emily Charlton: Three words: Food taster. Goodbye
Andy Sachs: After a while, crocodile
Emily Charlton: THAT’S a near rhyme
Andy Sachs: Thank you miss
Emily Charlton: Goodbye. Stop typing
Andy Sachs: You stop answering me
Emily Charlton: OMG
Andy Sachs: hahahaha…last word!
Emily Charlton: (s)!
Andy Sachs: Bitch
Emily Charlton: Miss Bitch to you
Miranda handed Andy’s phone back to her, “It reads like tweens navigating a crush they don’t know they have. But exactly.”
“I know it does. I thought we were bad at Runway but now we’ve completely devolved.”Andy leaned forward and kissed Miranda’s cheek, “Just remember something. Emily would walk through a field of lava to make you happy and that means she’s having to make me happy. That’s not the most enviable position to be in for her so don’t even entertain the thought of doing anything mean to her for being a bitch with me.”
“You wound me by even entertaining the thought I would.”
Andy raised an eyebrow and Miranda tilted her head to consider the effect, “You’re getting better at that, darling.”
“I’m nowhere near the master.”
“You could be. Come here.” Miranda beckoned with a lifted arm, Andy scooted over, positioned herself and they both relaxed into the full body hug, “There. Isn’t that better?”
“It is,” Andy sighed.
Miranda threaded her fingers through the girl’s dark hair as she asked, “Is this wedding planning becoming too stressful? Can I help with anything?”
“To be honest, yes it’s too stressful. On one hand, it’s not remotely the hell of Paris Fashion Week but on the other, it is our wedding and a one-time deal I really want to be nice for us and I…guess to answer your other question, thanks but no thanks. Getting you into the mix would make this feel even more like I’m the second assistant in Dante’s Inferno than I already do.”
“How charmingly you remember your employment with me. Nevertheless, one hopes we can forgo the excitement of Emily’s being hit by a car or your doing a Paris phone dump in Vermont.”
“God forbid the former and as far as the latter is concerned, Emily would hunt me down and murder me if I didn’t show.”
Miranda kissed the top of Andy’s head. “Should I be worried that you’re more concerned about Emily than rushing to shore up my insecurity about whether you’ll show for the wedding?”
“You have to be kidding me. Please.” Andy pulled gently away from Miranda just enough to prop her head on her hand and look into the woman’s eyes. “I couldn’t just toss my phone and walk. That inn’s so damned secluded I’d have to drive out and it’s not like you guys wouldn’t notice I was gone in time to stop me. Anyway, it’s too late for planning escape contingencies because Em and I are way past the ceremony part. We’re in the middle of catering and if I’m going through the water torture of planning the reception food with the most pernickety person I’ve ever known excepting you, you’d better believe nothing on Earth’s keeping me from eating it.”
Miranda looked at Andy for a long moment, “To paraphrase the children-if that was reassurance, you’re doing it wrong.”
Andy exhaled loudly before replying. “I know I am, sweetie. Ignore me. I really can’t wait to marry you but planning it’s getting on my last nerve. And there’s nothing you can do for my nerves,” she said as she patted the duvet covering Miranda’s stomach, “now that you’ve taken sex off the menu.”
“Well, that was certainly a segue. Is that in actuality what’s making you so surly tonight-our sexual abstinence?”
“In actuality, Miranda, I’m not being surly at all. Are you sure you’re not feeling surly for some reason you’re projecting onto me?”
Miranda pursed her lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Andy smiled, sat up and crossed her legs facing the woman. “I’ll pretend I believe you. That said, I don’t mind going on record-thirty days is a ridiculous amount of time to go without when it’s fairly capriciously symbolic.”
“You could have said no.”
“No I couldn’t. It seemed important to you when you suggested it.”
“It was.”
“That past tense has been noted.”
“There’s no need for impertinence.”
“Oh, I need it alright. Impertinence is my chain mail with you, lady.”
Miranda’s lips twitched but she didn’t smile, “I know you’re using that in the armoury sense of the word, but I’m taking it in the annoyingly excessive epistolary sense.”
“Of course you are,” Andy said, thinking that Miranda looked annoyingly and excessively smug. But she also looked so pretty and comfortable and peaceful in the midst of their faux-bickering that Andy’s stomach suddenly flipped. She leaned forward and cupped the woman’s cheek. “I adore you.”
“It’s mutual.”
Andy grinned, “Then we can just adore each other really hard for the next eleven days. Think that’ll suffice?”
“No, but we’ll live. I didn’t have sex with John for three months after the twins were born. It can be done.”
Andy rolled her eyes, “You know what? Because I love John, I won’t even go where you would go if I mentioned sex with my most significant ex-partner in our bed. But back to your point. You had a Caesarean-was it that awful?”
“Not really. I held out for months just for the principle of the thing.” She almost smiled, “I’m sure you’ll find this difficult to believe but at that point in my life I was not only petty enough but vain enough to resent John for the scar.”
Andy’s nod was almost imperceptible. The amusement in her eyes wasn’t.
Miranda sniffed, “Yes. Had I known it would be the first and best of my surgical scars, I would have slept with him in two weeks.”
Andy smiled. “See? Are you seeing this? You’ve just mentioned sex you actually had with a man twice in our bed in the last ten minutes and I haven’t increased my froideur one iota.” She sniffed. “Just showing you how it’s done.”
Miranda’s lips twitched. “Your far greater maturity is noted.”
Andy scowled at her but then lowered her head and her voice, “I know we never talk about your scars and I promise I’m not really trying to talk about them now but you brought it up so I’ll just say I understand. Obviously, I never saw your body without your first two scars, so they’re sort of just you to me. But I do resent the hell out of the one on your arm-because…well, you know why. There’s a lot of why for that one.”
Miranda took Andy’s hand and squeezed it softly, her voice soft and warm, “Look at me.” Andy raised her head. “Don’t, Andrea. It’s done and it’s not worth even thinking about, let alone wasting the time it takes to label your feelings of anger and guilt as resentment. And don’t cavil with me about my saying that because we both know it’s true.”
Andy shifted uncomfortably, “I’m sorry I brought it up.”
“I’m not.”
Miranda lifted an eyebrow and Andy could see from the expression on her face that a swift change in attitude was in order.
“Right. Sorry. Wrong tone. You were saying?”
“Thank you. If you truly need to talk about this again, I’ll always be willing to accommodate you but if not, let this be an end to discussing my scars. I have three physical scars. The first was planned and a visually nominal indication of the least nominal fact of my life-my children. The second is, visually, an untidy reminder that the way I am in the world can reap painful consequences in other people’s lives and in my own. I shouldn’t have been surprised by it but I was. I was profoundly shocked. The third was by far the most painful and it’s enormous and jagged and ugly. It didn’t surprise me in the least that protecting someone I love would hurt but I feel proud and, indeed, grateful, that I was who I’d always hoped I’d be if tested with my life.”
Andy ran one hand over Miranda’s arm and bit her lower lip before saying, “I wasn’t.”
“I couldn’t let you be, Andrea. I’m an editor. I made the choice. You save my life every day. I’ve only saved yours once.”
***
Eleven Days Later
***
Honestly, Emily thought, as she frowned out at the dawn, if she’d wanted bucolic settings and flippant weather, she’d have stayed in England. Snow in April. She’d never longed for New York more than after spending one night in an admittedly fabulous room in a fabulous inn whose sole occupants were the wedding party, if you counted every person attending the wedding as members of the party, which she’d had to since she’d made the bloody reservations for them.
Unable to ignore Emily’s loud sighing any longer, Serena propped herself up on one elbow in their bed and watched Emily watching the snow. They were trapped until at least 8AM. Upon their arrival the night before and as a measure meant to suggest the trip was a holiday of sorts, Miranda had suggested that it would be fine if anyone wanted to sleep in. Emily had forced herself not to roll her eyes because this was, naturally, akin to issuing a papal bull stating the necessity of everyone’s sleeping in. Andy had pulled Serena aside to talk about this:
“Just stay in your room and order room service tomorrow morning. Miranda thinks it’s a good idea now but when she’s looking out the window and pacing for two hours before she can come down and pretend she’s slept in, she’ll realize differently.”
As employer, so employee.
“What are you thinking, English?”
Emily looked back at Serena, who looked predictably perfect despite the hour, “I was thinking I could have just stayed in England if I wanted this and that breakfast can’t come fast enough.”
“Ah. Yes. However, if anything could verify you’re not in England, it would be scrambled egg whites with one piece of dry wheat toast.”
“It’s the perfect breakfast.”
“It perfectly struggles not to disappear on the plate and since this event is casual and you don’t have to fit into anything cruel today, your breakfast begs a question I already know the answer to. You’re eating paper because you imagine that Andy and Miranda will be but I can assure you there’s no need for solidarity. Apparently they find final fittings to be an aperitif-Nigel and I thought they both ate like wolves after.”
Emily shook her head, “Wait. Are you saying they saw each other’s dresses?”
“No no. They never. Two different days of course but if you’d seen how ravenous they-“
“Hold please.”
Serena stopped speaking immediately because she realized she’d stepped right on a sore point. Emily hadn’t seen anything at all except, apparently, the penny she’d just let drop. Emily’s voice cooled as she narrowed her eyes, “I can not believe this. You know what they’re wearing, don’t you?”
Serena hesitated and offered a tentative, “No?”
“Really.” Emily crossed her arms and quietly tapped one foot on the floor. “Is that your final answer?”
“Alright. I do know. Acra and Herrera.”
“Andy in Acra.”
“Naturally.”
Serena watched Emily toy with the idea of holding onto resentment as a side item for breakfast with her egg whites and toast. She knew Emily imagined herself inscrutable but in reality her emotions were as obvious as sky-writing.
Emily worked through her emotions and came out with, “They’ll be perfect?”
Serena smiled what Emily considered the woman’s very laziest and sexiest smile, “Miranda Priestly. And Nigel dressing Andy for Miranda Priestly. What do you think?”
“I think I hate you for seeing what they’re wearing when I haven’t.”
“Hate me if you like to but it was Miranda. She would know you would try to accent yourself somehow for her and Miranda has asked you to stand as yourself. She does not want a token person in a dress coordinated for her as you might think she might want in a Runway way. This is a personal honor she extends to you, Emily. So she does not ask or show you anything. She doesn’t want you to look or be anything except yourself or anywhere except standing beside her today. She’s asked you the privilege of that. Grow with her. She is learning, English. You need to, as well.”
Emily looked from Serena to the snow falling, and back again. “If you’re going to be continually reasonable and right, Serena, it’s going to be a very long, long-weekend.”
Serena smiled, “Get back in bed with me, little one. Breakfast soon. I ordered a true English breakfast twice for me. You get half. Calories do not count in Vermont. I read this on the Internet.”
Emily smiled and pounced back into the bed.
**
“What’s up?” Cassidy mumbled as she opened her eyes and saw her sister changing clothes and moving through their darkened room.
“Sorry. Me. Not you. Go back to sleep-it’s snowing. I’m taking pictures.”
“Did you finish your speech?”
“Our speech-and yeah. All done.”
“It’s yours if you’re giving it, doofus.”
“Me. You. Same difference, right?”
Cassidy smiled a very sad, gentle smile. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Language, Cassidy, and looking for something,” Caroline whispered as she scrounged through her camera bag and finally held up two items Cassidy couldn’t really see. “Ta da!”
“Do I need to know what the ta da is?”
“Nope-go back to sleep.”
“Like that’s happening. I’ll read your speech when you get back.”
“You don’t have to-I made it nice.”
“Fine but you do know Maggie’s going to catch you sneaking out, don’t you?”
“It’s not exactly sneaking out if I’m just walking out, right? And it’s no biggie. I’m shooting establishing shots for the wedding.”
Cassidy sighed. They’d had this discussion before. “Mom would totally let you shoot the whole thing but you’re in the wedding party. You can’t take the pictures and not be in the pictures.”
“A camera’s part of my outfit almost every day. So what? I’ll smile for the camera with a camera around my neck.”
Cassidy exhaled sharply. “What was the ta da?”
“Another lens and a thingy you don’t need to know the name of that’ll keep the snow off it.”
“Okay.”
Caroline felt the weight in the air. “Cassidy-I’m just taking pictures.”
“You’re really nervous.”
“No I’m not.”
“Yes you are. You go behind your camera when you’re nervous.”
Caroline packed her gear and said, “That would mean I’m almost always nervous.”
“Yeah. It sorta does. I’m really sorry about that, Car.”
Caroline smiled at Cassidy in the darkened room and knew her twin would almost hear it even if she couldn’t see it. “It’s just how I am but yeah, okay. Photography’s better than drugs, right?”
Cassidy sighed but said, “You bet.”
“So I’ll see you soon, genetically identical.”
Cassidy chuckled. “Jayce and I’ll wait for breakfast with you, okay? I really, really want to have breakfast with you today, genetically identical.”
Caroline’s eyes welled with tears but she said, “Pancakes?”
“Carbs when Mom can’t say anything about them? Is that even a question?”
Things were truly changing and Caroline was frightened and Cassidy knew it. Pancakes were a deflection of what they were feeling but it was a perfect answer.
**
Magdelena did indeed hear Caroline as she snuck downstairs. She was watching the snow from the kitchen window and looked so sad that Caroline paused before she took a picture of her. The little girl didn’t know she’d been heard until Magdalena said very quietly without turning around, “Good morning, Caroline. Snowing. Vermont. A good day for pictures, no?”
Caroline smiled. She loved their Maggie. She knew how to be sad just like she was. “It’s cold and boring but why don’t you put some real clothes and a coat on? Let’s take some together.”
Magdalena rushed to do so and they took pictures outside together. Doing so on such a strange and momentous day with the person she worried most about in their family, a person who was the mysterious daughter of the most mysterious person in her life, was about the happiest relief Magdalena had ever felt.
**
Richard held Audrey in his arms as they watched the morning snowfall. They were both awake and silent for a long, long time before Audrey whispered, “What are you thinking?”
He whispered, “Our little girl’s getting married today.”
“To a woman.”
He sighed and said with the heaviest of sadness in his voice, “Audrey. Please.”
She reached back and patted his hip gently and said lightly. “No no, Rich. I’m not angry or sad. It’s my baby’s wedding day but it’s not what I expected. That’s all.”
“I know that, sweetheart. Andy knows that, too.”
Audrey shook her head as she watched the white snow fall. “I wanted a white knight for our girl.”
A few moments passed before he stroked her hair and said, “She got the white hair part, Aud.”
Audrey laughed and it was a real laugh. “That she did.” She pulled him closer to her. “Don’t think I’m not happy, Richard. Or won’t be. I’m just bewildered. In the sense I’m lost but that doesn’t mean I’m not happy.”
She clasped one of his large hands in hers. “Even in mythology, being lost means you might be moving toward your fate. You’ll be walking Andy toward her fate today. I’m her mother, Richard. You can be her father all day long but I’m her mother. I want to know what will happen before it happens and I know I can’t. That’s all I mean. You’re watching your daughter get married. You made her with me but I held her and created her within me and I don’t know what to do about giving her to someone else. I’m frightened because I don’t know the end of the story.”
He pulled her to him and kissed her. “I think the end of story is that Andy will be happily married. And we can’t change fate, Aud. Let go and let’s enjoy a happy day.”
There was a long moment before she said, “You’re being tiresome and reasonable, Richard. We should order breakfast.”
He smiled down at her. “Breakfast is overrated, Audrey.”
She smiled up him. “And can be ordered late. We’re sleeping in.”
“No we’re not.”
He rolled on top of her and kissed her. She laughed and said “Breakfast is so overrated.”
**
Wanda was up with the birds. “Papi? I don’t know what la jefa thinks to sleep so long.”
Carlo scrubbed his face with his hands. He wasn’t used to luxury. He wanted to enjoy it but his wife was awake so talk he must. “She is trying to be nice. She wants us to sleep.”
They were native Spanish speakers but always spoke English with each other to keep their skills good enough for their Juan Carlo.
Wanda shrugged and scowled at the snow. “Si-yes. There I see Caroline and Magdalena taking the pictures in the snow. What should we be doing?”
“Sleeping?”
“It is like you to say so but what can we do?”
“About what?”
“Today.”
“We dress and go to the wedding.”
“Everyone is awake. I can feel it, papi.”
“Breakfast?”
“It is too early, I think.”
“It is. Come back to bed and sleep with me one hour. Por favor. We will get the reputation as Latin lovers. Por favor, mami. I never get to sleep until real light. Come back to bed and sleep or I will feel bad with you awake.”
Wanda looked at her dearest husband, who had worked double shifts for a solid week to be in this place for their family and friends. She closed the drapes to darken the room more fully. She slipped into bed and wrapped herself around him. “Sleep even two hours, papi. They will call the police to find us maybe.”
He smiled and drifted off immediately. She put her head on his chest and found she might be able to rest after all.
**
John woke up and put on his winter running gear.
Cecelia sighed as she heard him moving around the room. “Seriously, John? Running here?”
“You run where you are, Cece.”
“I sleep where I am.”
“Good for you.” He sat by her prostrate form on the bed, “Thanks for coming.”
Cecelia smiled up hazily at him, “If you think I’d miss Mrs. Priestly getting married again, you’ve got the wrong woman.”
He smiled down at her and kissed her. “I’ve got exactly the right woman.”
“Good answer. Run. Wake me for the whole mutual shower and breakfast thing.”
With the mutual shower mention, John had much more pep in his step as he left the room for his run.
**
Doug and Lily slept in adjacent rooms. Lily knocked on his door and he opened it, bleary-eyed. She held up a pack of UNO cards she’d brought. He smiled, waved her in and they ordered an early room-service breakfast. They agreed to play to 1000.
***
Juan Carlo slipped from his bed. He looked at the snowfall from his window. He felt very much the man with his own room like only Sam and Doug and Nigel had. He saw Caroline and Magdalena taking pictures and smiled. But it meant Cassidy was by herself. She would be awake if Caroline was. It would not be appropriate for a young man to go to a young woman’s bedroom by himself. He knew this so he put on his slippers, walked a short way down the hall to Sam’s room and knocked on the door.
Sam came to the door almost immediately in shorts and a t-shirt and asked, “Wassup, man?”
“I’m sorry to wake or bother you, Sam, but Caroline is taking pictures outside. I know if she is awake, Cassidy is too. Cassidy is alone but I would like to visit her. Will you please escort me so that I can keep her company in a respectful way?”
Sam was sleepily and completely charmed. “Totally, dude. Let me get some jeans on. You go get some clothes on, too. Can’t let the ladies see us in our jammies.”
Juan Carlo suddenly looked alarmed and whispered, “What if she is in sleepwear? Is that appropriate?”
‘What a kid,’ Sam thought as he smiled down at him. “We knock and say we want to visit, dude, and then she goes and changes while we wait. It’s cool.”
Juan Carlo exhaled fiercely, “Thank you, Sam. Manhood is very difficult.”
Sam refused to laugh at the little boy. “No lie, bro. Go get changed. Meetcha in the hall.”
***
Nigel was sleeping like a top.
***
Mary was awake and Roy was awake. They were snuggled together in bed but could feel, if they didn’t hear, people awake all around them.
“I know why Wanda and Carlo are awake but is there any reason all these white folk need to get up so early when they don’t have to?”
“That’s a question for the ages, Mary. But you must know Miranda is awake at about 5AM. She goes to sleep at 12AM usually. She’s the hardest working person I’ve known in my life and I’ve never been anything but a blue collar man.”
“I wasn’t casting aspersions.”
He shifted away from her.
“Never say you weren’t. You were. And I know you’re kind but you don’t know her. Miranda is a multi-millionaire, Mary. I know that. I’m only her driver. You’re only a teacher. But she works harder every day than we ever will. You don’t know what it is to be her. Don’t ever disparage her to me. She is my family.”
“Roy. Please. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I know you’re so kind you don’t mean to say anything that would hurt me and I know you care enough to come to her marriage. I’m saying for anyone to even think anything unkind about Miranda kills me because I know her and I love her and you only half-know her and don’t love her yet.”
He leapt up and rummaged through his luggage and produced a box and knelt at her feet as she lay on the bed. “This might not be a good time to say this because we seem at crossroads but my da always said crossroads mean inroads.” He opened the box and said, “Would you please, please give me the honor of being your husband?”
Mary looked at a truly startling ring, as surprised as she’d ever been in her life. She beamed at him. “Of course I will, Roy.”
Roy sighed, placed the ring on her finger and Mary smiled down at him as she said, “And to surprise you right back? We’re pregnant.”
He gaped. “Pregnant? No we’re not. What are you saying to me?”
“We’re going to have a baby, Roy.”
He tried to put his hands on his fiancée’s stomach but pulled them back in awe. “Never in this lifetime. I’m not good enough for this. Jesus, Mary and Joseph.” He pointed at her stomach. “Are you saying our baby’s in there?”
“Yes. Our child is inside me.”
He seemed to deflate and Mary watched him as he looked vaguely around her stomach. “A child. Our child. You’re saying we’ll have a child?”
She smiled down at him. “Yes, God willing. A boy or a girl. We can’t know which yet.”
“Who could care which? A girl I hope! Or maybe a boy!” He put his head on her stomach and began to cry.
Mary ran her fingers through his hair, supremely happy to know he’d wanted to marry her even without her big news.
**
They breakfasted apart and together. And together gathered for a ‘team’ meeting called by Emily at 9:30. She grimaced as she said, “I’m sure you all enjoyed sleeping in this morning.” The wedding party smiled in grumpy unison as she said. “You’re all free until 1500 or 3PM as you Americans choose to call it. At that point, we’ll do a quick rehearsal for the ceremony at 1800 or 6PM as you Americans choose to call it. If you need anything at all, you have my cell number. Text and I’ll text back.”
“Emily?”
Emily glowered at Andy. “Yes, princess?”
“Texting? We’re all in the same building.”
“And I want to sit still for any of you to find me exactly because?”
“Emily.”
“Miranda?”
“Relax.”
Emily just looked at her boss and then exploded in laughter. Andy did, too.
Miranda said, “What?”
Andy patted her fiancée, crossed the floor and hugged Emily as she continued to laugh. She whisper-sang, “Relax. Don’t do it, when you want to go to it...”
Emily whispered to Andy, “That’s vulgar but ta for that.” She lifted her head and voice to everyone. “You have your marching orders. You included, Miranda. I’m the captain on this good ship Marriage. I’ll see you all soon.”
Andy joined Miranda and was flummoxed when the woman said, “Don’t think I didn’t hear that. You actually quoted Frankie Goes to Hollywood lyrics on our wedding day?”
Andy shrugged.
***
Andy and Miranda had no idea that Emily would spring something on them at 2PM. None at all.
Their mutual texts read:
EmilyCharlton: Father Michael is here to discuss the ceremony.
Miranda gaped at it and said, “I can kill her, can’t I?”
Andy smiled. Emily was trying. “Nope. Let’s go see Father Mike.”
Father Michael was older than Miranda and his hair was whiter, if that were possible.
“Hello. I’m Father Michael Sullivan and I will be officiating your wedding. I’d like to speak to you privately before the celebration of your wedding.”
***
Miranda stared at him. “Are you actually an Irish priest? Is Emily attempting to kill me?”
He smiled at her. “My father and mother were Irish, born and bred. I’m merely an old offshoot. I’m here to officiate as a justice of the peace, which I am, but also as a priest, which I am, as well. The priest part will not be official, as you know. But I do this, as children say I believe, on the downlow. Emily, believe me, only found me after much effort. I do not advertise my willingness to bless these unions because it upsets my Bishop. Emily knows you are Catholic, Ms. Priestly, and that you are Episcopalian, Ms. Sachs. She believed having a religious observance of your union would be important and meaningful to you.”
Andy smiled at him. “It’s the best wedding gift we’ll get, Father Michael.”
He smiled at her. “Very well. Let’s go into this room Emily’s provided for us so we can speak for a few minutes.”
Andy held Miranda’s hand. Miranda was never happily shanghaied. They crossed to a small room and all took a seat.
He smiled at them and said, “Since I will be marrying you today, would you mind telling me briefly why it’s come to this?”
Miranda stared at him and Andy quickly said, “Come to what?”
“Marriage. Why are you getting married?”
Andy pulled her chin back. “What do you mean?”
He ran one hand over his white hair. “You see? I mean, I’ve married more than, maybe, 5000 couples over my years as a priest and almost none of them knew why they were getting married. Some, surely, had children they felt they had to legitimize. Some had family pressure. Financial pressure. Some had romantic ideas that were pie in the sky. You two have none of these things. Why are you getting married. It’s a question I should ask, I think, if I’m to marry you.”
Andy glanced at Miranda, who was pursing her lips in a not good way. She looked from Miranda to Father Michael with just enough alarm he could see it.
He smiled. “I’m not being confrontational. I’m being a priest. You didn’t ask for one but you’ve got one. You don’t have to justify yourselves to me and I’ll certainly marry you as a court official. That said, I have found it beneficial to the celebrants to express themselves concerning their reasons for marriage before the event. If they can’t tell me why they’re marrying, no matter the reason, it’s not a marriage. They feel it. I feel it, as well.”
Andy took Miranda’s hand and said, “Thank you for being so thoughtful and mindful of the meaning and the sanctity of marriage. We appreciate your officiating for us. The reasons we’re marrying will be in our vows we’ve written for each other. They’re a surprise for us both but I can assure you, Father Michael, we have more than ample reason to blend our lives forever. I promise you that. I came back into this woman’s life to care for her and love her. I have never left her since and I never will. She-she stood between me and death. Nothing will keep us from each other but death.”
Father Michael smiled at Andy and Miranda was so moved she chose to ignore it as she took a deep breath. “I agree with Andrea and appreciate your officiating, as well. It’s a lovely thing to have a priest for my wedding. Forgive me if sometimes being given the nth degree by a priest rankles after a Catholic upbringing.”
He understood them, barked out a loud, short and happy laugh. “Doesn’t it always! Get going. I’ll say the typical formalities and then you may say your vows. Of course no communion but I will bless you with oil and holy water and pronounce you married, if that’s acceptable to you.”
Miranda smiled at him. “Thank you, Father.”
Andy said, “Stay for the reception, please.”
“Ah, your Emily booked a room for me for three days. I’m going hiking with my dog the whole time. A little sabbatical.”
Miranda blinked her eyes. “If your dog is well-behaved with other dogs and quiet, it can come to the ceremony. Our dog is attending.”
“You have a dog?”
“Patricia. She’s a St. Bernard. She’s nearly somnolent always.”
“Then I will bring St. Roch. He’s an Australian cattle dog but he’s a Christian with other dogs but especially if I wear my robes, which I will be. He will be still and enjoy your marriage.”
Miranda almost smiled at this. “He can enjoy the hospitality of the bedded kennel rooms afterward. They have long runs for each room.”
Andy did smile, “When you see the facilities, you’ll almost want to sleep in them instead of your room.”
Father Michael grinned. “Dog lovers, I see. Why didn’t you say so? I’ll marry you.”
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