Chapter 52: Getting Close

[theladyholl]

Author: TheLadyHoll
Pairing: Andy/Miranda
Rating: M
Disclaimer: Yes, they are mine. I own them. Come to me my pretties and dance, DANCE I SAY. Or, more truthfully, not...



I'm a quarter of a century old now, decrepit by Runway standards. But if you just so happened to want to comment as a late birthday present... ;) xoxo

Andy didn’t care what Miranda said. She was cute and there was no getting around it. Their vacation had ended far too soon, and now the small family were all packed up and packed in the car. Somehow, a bag of gummy bears had appeared in the cup holder between Andrea and Miranda, and the latter kept surreptitiously sneaking her hand into the bag - and true to her anal retentive nature, was carefully eating them in order of colour: red, orange, yellow, green, all the while thinking she was unseen by the smirking driver.

“I didn’t realize how much the babies like gummy bears” Andrea commented casually. Miranda glared at her and crossed her arms warningly, but Andy continued. “No? Then they must not like the peanut butter cookie dough ice cream that’s been pushed aaall the way to the back of the freezer. Might as well clear that out. Oh, and that probably means the chocolate mint thins in your desk can be taken as well. Miranda had been glaring murderously at the young woman as she spoke, revealing her knowledge of the editor’s secret treats. But at the mention of the cookies, the pregnant woman’s cheeks went pink although she tried to appear unaffected. It was clear she had thought the brunette didn’t know her hiding places for her more decadent cravings. Andy decided to quit teasing her fiancée, instead leaning over from the driver’s side to lovingly rub the furious woman’s stomach, biting her lip as she saw Miranda battling her desires to snap at the brunette and her frustration knowing that she couldn’t without giving herself away.

“They’re getting you into so much trouble, aren’t they? Can you imagine what it will be like when they’re actually here?”

Andy had made the comment casually, but she saw the power of pregnancy hormones in action as Miranda’s ire quickly turned to stinging tears as she imagined what it would be like if she were to deliver two healthy infants. She’d go back to court all over again and testify about her embarrassing cravings if that was what it took to get them here healthy.

Andy saw the swift change in emotion and moved her hand to enfold her fingers with Miranda and lift them to her lips so that they pressed against the polished stone that caught the light so beautifully.

“Soon,” Andy murmured, reading Miranda’s thoughts. “So soon.”

...

Designers and journalists constantly sent gifts and cards congratulating the editor and reigning queen of fashion on the news of the babies and of her new relationship with the stunning young brunette who had been under her employ. During their time away however, the gifts and cards had been sent from the office to the townhouse directly, so that after a week’s time the pile was considerable, especially as Miranda was not there to ‘edit’ which gifts and cards were acceptable and warranted a response, with the others being given to charity and the letters filed away to be forgotten.

To Andy and Miranda, the pile was just a huge weight on their shoulders knowing they would have to sort through it and separate the sycophantic from the sincere.

To the girls though, it looked as though Christmas had come early and they ran over to the pile excitedly. “Mom! Andy! What’s this? Why are all these presents here? Are these for us?”

Miranda was exhausted from the long car trip even though she had slept through most of it, and so her response wasn’t as tempered as it perhaps should have been.

“No. They are not Cassidy. This has nothing to do with you. Andrea and I will handle it. Take your things upstairs please and unpack.”

The two little girls wordlessly picked up their cases and tromped up the stairs to their room.

“Miranda, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re looking really swollen. We need to get you off your feet before you start showing more signs of pre-eclampsia.”

Andy’s concern was palpable as Miranda turned her head to view herself in the hallway mirror. Andrea was right, she looked awful. Deep purple circles ringed her eyes with shadows, stopping only at the roundness of her cheeks that she also felt and saw in her hands and feet.

Miranda nodded and accepted Andrea’s hand without complaint, grateful to have the younger woman as support as she ascended the stairs to their bedroom.

“I know you’re going to want a bath or a shower later, but let’s see if we can get the swelling down first, alright?” She spilled several of the blood pressure tablets into her hand and pressed them into Miranda’s as she handed the older woman a glass of water.” I know you don’t want the next family trip to be to the hospital.”

Miranda’s lips pursed as Andy reached for the body pillow to help Miranda get in position.

“I know you hate it, but I’ve got to go deal with the mess downstairs and unpack and see if the girls are alright and ask what they want for dinner since I don’t think you can remain awake long enough to defrost one of the casseroles Rosa left us.”

Miranda nodded, although her expression was still displeased. But even though she had been sitting and asleep in the car, lying in her own bed felt heavenly, the 500 thread count pillow cradling her aching head and her eyes closed even before Andrea had left the room.

Andy left the room as quietly as she could, glad Miranda had taken the pills without argument and was now unmistakeably asleep, as the soft snoring coming through the closed door would suggest. Hopefully a few hours rest meant the pills would work and the swelling would go down. Miranda hadn’t said anything but the brunette had a feeling the older woman’s head was pounding as well as a result of her high blood pressure.

Her thumb hovered over Dr. Jansen’s number, but she knew there was nothing the doctor could do other than admit Miranda to the hospital where they wouldn’t be able to do anything more for her than to monitor her, the stress it would incite in the older woman ultimately resulting in a worsening of her symptoms.

“God, how she loved that woman upstairs. And God, how she wished she were in bed beside her - the younger woman was exhausted as well, but her list of tasks to do before retiring was long enough that she knew it would be several hours until she could join her fiancé in bed.

Heading downstairs again to deal with the deluge of unfiltered presents and cards, Andy was shocked to see the pile of cards now in shreds and scattered all over the floor.

“Cassidy! Caroline! Get down here this instant!” Andy forgot about the sleeping woman upstairs and yelled for the two girls to come down to the main floor where she was standing amongst the confetti of ripped up stationary.

“Girls, I’m extremely disappointed in the both of you. I thought you knew better than to do something like this. This is not the behaviour of the young women I thought your mother had raised. I thought everything was fine with the babies, that you were fine with it.

Both girls squirmed uncomfortably, but neither backed down, making Andy feel as though she were facing a mini-Miranda firing squad

“Yeah, well, we’re not. We’re just kids, and you’re just acting like a wicked stepmother instead of someone cool Andy.”

“It’s not my job to be someone cool all the time, Cass. It’s also my job and my role to be your parent.”

“And in a few months that role will become permanent under the law even as it is now permanent in my mind and in my heart.” Miranda appeared on the first floor landing in a silk dressing gown, her features still swollen, but utterly set as she descended, and Andy swore a chill swept through the foyer as her feet touched the floor.

“Miranda, you’re not supposed to be on your feet.” Andy went to aid the other woman’s descent down the stairs but was stopped cold.

A single look in the younger woman’s direction was enough to silence her protests and Miranda turned back to her daughters, looking as cold and imperious as Andy had ever seen her be with them.

“Caroline, Cassidy, you are both entitled to your opinions, and I have always been lenient in my allowance of you to vocalize them and to afford them due respect. Is it too much to ask that you afford us the same respect we show to you? Or have I raised such children as to be so irreverent and ungrateful of their many privileges. We understand this transition is difficult and that certain circumstances are made worse because of my,”

“Our,” Andy interjected, trying to make sure Miranda didn’t take all of the blame onto herself.

“Our, reputation in the press.” Miranda continued. “And that this is an unfair burden to you, and we have tried our best to mediate and to mitigate the effect it has on your lives. But as a part of this family, part of the responsibility falls on you not to exacerbate the problem with immature behaviour.

The little girl’s body shook with suppressed emotion and her hands curled into fists at her sides as she finally burst, stamping her foot and shouting.

“Stop lying!”

Miranda looked completely bewildered by the vehemence of the outburst and Andy was still observing from the sidelines, her expression mirroring the confusion of Miranda’s as the little girl stormed over to the table with the ruined cards and threw them at her mother’s feet.

“Congratulations on your new family. Over and over! Even on your stupid magazine, it’s you and Andy and the babies.”

This time it was Cassidy who ran back into the room, the glossy pages of the exclusive edition of Runway clutched tightly in the small hand before landing in a crumpled heap next to the letters on the floor.

“See? All these people know that you’re just making a new family, and we’re not in it! Even that lawyer kept saying that we were spending all our time away with dad since you found out you were having a baby.”

Miranda looked shattered and this time it was Andy who stepped forward, getting on her knees in front of the ten year old whose chest was still heaving with sobs and squeezing her arms tightly as she ducked her head to meet the tear-filled gaze.

“Caroline,” Andy started, her voice hoarse with the intensity of her emotion. “Do you have any idea how hard your mother works to keep you out of the press? She has used all of her power, all of her influence to make sure those reporters who make our life hell don’t come near you. Neither of us want you to ever be hurt by the lies they spread, and that is why we are willing to let them write about us, and have exclusives about our relationship even though it’s nobody’s business but our own. The reason the tabloids don’t talk about you is because of how fiercely and how well your mother protects you. They don’t dare mention your names because they know your mother will come after them, and to the best of my ability, and whatever tiny influence I have, that I would go after them too.

“Is that true, mom?” Caroline croaked, blue eyes meeting blue in a silent question.

Andy let her hands fall from the little girl’s shoulders and gestured Cassidy forward to join them. She felt a firm pressure on her shoulder, so strong as to be almost painful and she turned her head to see Miranda join her on her knees on the floor of the hallway.

Andy quickly moved to help the older woman into the awkward position it seemed she desired and steadied her from being pulled off-balance with a hand at the small of her back. Two sniffling redheads quickly burrowed into either side of their mother’s swollen stomach, desperately seeking comfort even as they were still angry with her.

“My precious Bobbsey’s,” Miranda whispered, her fingers lightly combing through each auburn crown. “From the moment you were placed in my arms, nothing has ever been more important in my life. And I know that I haven’t been as present as perhaps I should…”

“Mom, we know you love us.”

“Yeah, we don’t want any other mother…”

“Except Andy, but she’s a different kind of mom.”

Accepting the help of the other three women to rise once more to her feet, Miranda stroked the chins of each of her daughters, an idea coming into her mind that might help to ease the struggles her daughters were currently facing in accepting their new siblings and the attention being brought to them because of who and what she was.

Several minutes later saw the small family seated on the couch in the living room, looking through old picture albums Miranda kept in her study.

“Mom! How could you dress us like that?”

“It was the nineties, I assure you my darlings you were at the height of infant fashion.”

The twins still looked horrified as they looked down at the pair of two year olds dressed in pink frilly t-shirts tucked into denim overalls, white Velcro sneakers attached snugly to their feet as they sat on a picnic table, some disembodied arm supporting them from behind as they laughed at the camera.

Having spent the evening going through old pictures with the girls, Andy lay on the couch that night, going through the albums herself as Miranda worked on the book from the couch across from her. The swelling having abated after a three hour nap.

Andy pointed to one of the photos on the page. It was a rare one of a widely smiling Miranda, ten years younger, reclining on the couch much like she was now, a faint blush colouring her cheeks even as she appeared to be proudly showing off her much smaller but still rounded belly to whoever was behind the camera.

“That’s what I want for them. To know how loved they are and how much we want them.”

Miranda’s fingers traced lightly over the expensive vellum, over the ridges of the old photographs.

“Aren’t you excited?” Andy looked up at Miranda, dreading the answer she feared was coming from the oft seemingly cold-hearted editor, although she knew differently.

“Yes,” Miranda shifted slightly from where she was lying against the couch, still in a prone position from watching the movie and elegant fingers rolled the waistband of her pajamas down so that the whole of her bare belly was in plain view, something she usually hated, framed at the top and bottom by pale hands that cupped it with more tenderness than anyone would have thought possible of the ruthless editor.

“I so wish to know these two little lives, Andrea. So much so that I haven’t dared say how much because I know how much there is that stands in the way. That is the truth that I’m not sure you want to hear. I can’t think of them with that kind of peace or certainty of the future until I’m that much closer to the finish line. The press may be right about my heart being frozen, but even something frozen can break I assure you, despite being hard it is also brittle and know that it will break if anything were to happen…I’m not as heartless as that.

“Miranda, that’s not…”

“But in spite of that fear, to answer your question, yes I am ‘excited’. Never in a million years would I ever have imagined myself, Ice Queen, Dragon Lady, pregnant at this age, and engaged, to a woman no less, half my age and yet I find I want all these things, things that belong to a younger person’s world, I want them all with you.

I could never have gotten through this ordeal and this pregnancy without you and I’m not foolish enough to believe that I would be sitting here, as I am without your support over these last months. You are as much a miracle to me as these babies, Andrea, and I won’t always be able to show you that because of who I am and who I will always be, but you are, Andrea, my miracle and you have given me these miracles in more ways than one.”

“And you said you wouldn’t be able to find the words. Can I get that in writing for the days I make you crazy?”

“Shall we just pin it on the wall then? Or you know, I still haven’t written my wedding vows” Miranda parried back, a wicked twinkle in her eye.

“Nah, I think I can remember, and I certainly don’t want to share” Andy leaned in to kiss Miranda, slowly, tenderly, wanting Miranda to know how much she was wanted as well before pressing her lips almost painfully hard against the sharp stone on Miranda’s left finger in an unspoken promise.

“Sweet talker,” Miranda murmured, her eyes closing against their own volition as the younger woman’s lips once again met hers as she led them towards the stairs.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” Andy apologized at the older woman’s hiss and sharp intake of breath as she continued smoothing a silicone scar sheet over part of Miranda’s belly. The sheets were supposed to lessen the appearance of and smooth the raised ridges of scars and stretch marks. Ugly purple and pink lines stretched across the sides and bottom of her belly, the skin stretched so tightly that the stretch marks looked angry; red and swollen and were, judging by Miranda’s description, quite painful. They had tried everything, every expensive lotion and cream and serum to no avail; even the most gentle of moisturizing mists and sprays had irritated the inflamed marks. Andy joked that she had rubbed so much coconut oil into Miranda’s belly that the babies were going to come out and instantly tan under the hospital lights. But the simple truth was that at 31 weeks, the editor was full to the brim, her body tired and strained even as its occupants tested and pushed its limits. Wearing the pelvic support belt when she conceded to wear it helped somewhat so that the weight of her belly didn’t pull at the skin that otherwise felt as though it would tear.

It was coming close to the time they would have to start watching her for signs of labour. The babies were expected to come early and so it was vital that the labour and birth take place in the hospital where the severely premature infants could be given the care they needed.

“Now darlings we’ve talked about the fact that mummy’s going to stay in the hospital for a few days. But you should know too the babies won’t be coming home at the same time.”

“Why aren’t they coming with you?”

“They, they…” Miranda began to answer but the words were lost as she opened and shut her mouth until Andy took over.

“Remember when we said that theirs would be a special delivery because we were getting to meet them early?”

Two red heads nodded as they curled around Miranda on the couch.

“Well the babies need a little extra time too to catch up on their growing before they come home.”

“So if they need to grow some more, why are they coming early?”

“Yeah, shouldn’t they just stay in mom’s belly until they’re big enough to not need to stay in the hospital?”

A look of anguish passed over Miranda’s face at this, but she soon straightened her features and laid a hand on Cassidy’s back as Caroline was currently snuggled into her right side.

“Yes, Bobbsey, normally they would. But as we’ve talked about, you know the babies are sick, and the safest place for them isn’t in mummy’s tummy anymore.”

“So why’d the babies get sick, did mom do something wrong?”

The question was asked innocently enough but Andy could see Miranda fighting her emotions and so she continued to direct the girls’ attention to herself as she answered.

“No.” Andy stated firmly, looking each girl in the eye. “Your mom did nothing wrong. Sometimes things just happen and we have to deal with them the best we can. And the best we can do right now is make sure your mom gets lots of rest, eats healthy and has no stress; and we need both your help with that.

“What can we do mom?”

“Can we get you anything?”

“A blanket? Some juice?” Two eager little voiced chimed in.

“You’re doing wonderfully as you are, Bobbsey’s, Miranda’s hand stroked through both heads of hairAndy didn’t care what Miranda said. She was cute and there was no getting around it. Their vacation had ended far too soon, and now the small family were all packed up and packed in the car. Somehow, a bag of gummy bears had appeared in the cup holder between Andrea and Miranda, and the latter kept surreptitiously sneaking her hand into the bag - and true to her anal retentive nature, was carefully eating them in order of colour: red, orange, yellow, green, all the while thinking she was unseen by the smirking driver.

“I didn’t realize how much the babies like gummy bears” Andrea commented casually. Miranda glared at her and crossed her arms warningly, but Andy continued. “No? Then they must not like the peanut butter cookie dough ice cream that’s been pushed aaall the way to the back of the freezer. Might as well clear that out. Oh, and that probably means the chocolate mint thins in your desk can be taken as well. Miranda had been glaring murderously at the young woman as she spoke, revealing her knowledge of the editor’s secret treats. But at the mention of the cookies, the pregnant woman’s cheeks went pink although she tried to appear unaffected. It was clear she had thought the brunette didn’t know her hiding places for her more decadent cravings. Andy decided to quit teasing her fiancée, instead leaning over from the driver’s side to lovingly rub the furious woman’s stomach, biting her lip as she saw Miranda battling her desires to snap at the brunette and her frustration knowing that she couldn’t without giving herself away.

“They’re getting you into so much trouble, aren’t they? Can you imagine what it will be like when they’re actually here?”

Andy had made the comment casually, but she saw the power of pregnancy hormones in action as Miranda’s ire quickly turned to stinging tears as she imagined what it would be like if she were to deliver two healthy infants. She’d go back to court all over again and testify about her embarrassing cravings if that was what it took to get them here healthy.

Andy saw the swift change in emotion and moved her hand to enfold her fingers with Miranda and lift them to her lips so that they pressed against the polished stone that caught the light so beautifully.

“Soon,” Andy murmured, reading Miranda’s thoughts. “So soon.”

Designers and journalists constantly sent gifts and cards congratulating the editor and reigning queen of fashion on the news of the babies and of her new relationship with the stunning young brunette who had been under her employ. During their time away however, the gifts and cards had been sent from the office to the townhouse directly, so that after a week’s time the pile was considerable, especially as Miranda was not there to ‘edit’ which gifts and cards were acceptable and warranted a response, with the others being given to charity and the letters filed away to be forgotten.

To Andy and Miranda, the pile was just a huge weight on their shoulders knowing they would have to sort through it and separate the sycophantic from the sincere.

To the girls though, it looked as though Christmas had come early and they ran over to the pile excitedly. “Mom! Andy! What’s this? Why are all these presents here? Are these for us?”

Miranda was exhausted from the long car trip even though she had slept through most of it, and so her response wasn’t as tempered as it perhaps should have been.

“No. They are not Cassidy. This has nothing to do with you. Andrea and I will handle it. Take your things upstairs please and unpack.”

The two little girls wordlessly picked up their cases and tromped up the stairs to their room.

“Miranda, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re looking really swollen. We need to get you off your feet before you start showing more signs of pre-eclampsia.”

Andy’s concern was palpable as Miranda turned her head to view herself in the hallway mirror. Andrea was right, she looked awful. Deep purple circles ringed her eyes with shadows, stopping only at the roundness of her cheeks that she also felt and saw in her hands and feet.

Miranda nodded and accepted Andrea’s hand without complaint, grateful to have the younger woman as support as she ascended the stairs to their bedroom.

“I know you’re going to want a bath or a shower later, but let’s see if we can get the swelling down first, alright?” She spilled several of the blood pressure tablets into her hand and pressed them into Miranda’s as she handed the older woman a glass of water.” I know you don’t want the next family trip to be to the hospital.”

Miranda’s lips pursed as Andy reached for the body pillow to help Miranda get in position.

“I know you hate it, but I’ve got to go deal with the mess downstairs and unpack and see if the girls are alright and ask what they want for dinner since I don’t think you can remain awake long enough to defrost one of the casseroles Rosa left us.”

Miranda nodded, although her expression was still displeased. But even though she had been sitting and asleep in the car, lying in her own bed felt heavenly, the 500 thread count pillow cradling her aching head and her eyes closed even before Andrea had left the room.

Andy left the room as quietly as she could, glad Miranda had taken the pills without argument and was now unmistakeably asleep, as the soft snoring coming through the closed door would suggest. Hopefully a few hours rest meant the pills would work and the swelling would go down. Miranda hadn’t said anything but the brunette had a feeling the older woman’s head was pounding as well as a result of her high blood pressure.

Her thumb hovered over Dr. Jansen’s number, but she knew there was nothing the doctor could do other than admit Miranda to the hospital where they wouldn’t be able to do anything more for her than to monitor her, the stress it would incite in the older woman ultimately resulting in a worsening of her symptoms.

“God, how she loved that woman upstairs. And God, how she wished she were in bed beside her - the younger woman was exhausted as well, but her list of tasks to do before retiring was long enough that she knew it would be several hours until she could join her fiancé in bed.

Heading downstairs again to deal with the deluge of unfiltered presents and cards, Andy was shocked to see the pile of cards now in shreds and scattered all over the floor.

“Cassidy! Caroline! Get down here this instant!” Andy forgot about the sleeping woman upstairs and yelled for the two girls to come down to the main floor where she was standing amongst the confetti of ripped up stationary.

“Girls, I’m extremely disappointed in the both of you. I thought you knew better than to do something like this. This is not the behaviour of the young women I thought your mother had raised. I thought everything was fine with the babies, that you were fine with it.

Both girls squirmed uncomfortably, but neither backed down, making Andy feel as though she were facing a mini-Miranda firing squad

“Yeah, well, we’re not. We’re just kids, and you’re just acting like a wicked stepmother instead of someone cool Andy.”

“It’s not my job to be someone cool all the time, Cass. It’s also my job and my role to be your parent.”

“And in a few months that role will become permanent under the law even as it is now permanent in my mind and in my heart.” Miranda appeared on the first floor landing in a silk dressing gown, her features still swollen, but utterly set as she descended, and Andy swore a chill swept through the foyer as her feet touched the floor.

“Miranda, you’re not supposed to be on your feet.” Andy went to aid the other woman’s descent down the stairs but was stopped cold.

A single look in the younger woman’s direction was enough to silence her protests and Miranda turned back to her daughters, looking as cold and imperious as Andy had ever seen her be with them.

“Caroline, Cassidy, you are both entitled to your opinions, and I have always been lenient in my allowance of you to vocalize them and to afford them due respect. Is it too much to ask that you afford us the same respect we show to you? Or have I raised such children as to be so irreverent and ungrateful of their many privileges. We understand this transition is difficult and that certain circumstances are made worse because of my,”

“Our,” Andy interjected, trying to make sure Miranda didn’t take all of the blame onto herself.

“Our, reputation in the press.” Miranda continued. “And that this is an unfair burden to you, and we have tried our best to mediate and to mitigate the effect it has on your lives. But as a part of this family, part of the responsibility falls on you not to exacerbate the problem with immature behaviour.

The little girl’s body shook with suppressed emotion and her hands curled into fists at her sides as she finally burst, stamping her foot and shouting.

“Stop lying!”

Miranda looked completely bewildered by the vehemence of the outburst and Andy was still observing from the sidelines, her expression mirroring the confusion of Miranda’s as the little girl stormed over to the table with the ruined cards and threw them at her mother’s feet.

“Congratulations on your new family. Over and over! Even on your stupid magazine, it’s you and Andy and the babies.”

This time it was Cassidy who ran back into the room, the glossy pages of the exclusive edition of Runway clutched tightly in the small hand before landing in a crumpled heap next to the letters on the floor.

“See? All these people know that you’re just making a new family, and we’re not in it! Even that lawyer kept saying that we were spending all our time away with dad since you found out you were having a baby.”

Miranda looked shattered and this time it was Andy who stepped forward, getting on her knees in front of the ten year old whose chest was still heaving with sobs and squeezing her arms tightly as she ducked her head to meet the tear-filled gaze.

“Caroline,” Andy started, her voice hoarse with the intensity of her emotion. “Do you have any idea how hard your mother works to keep you out of the press? She has used all of her power, all of her influence to make sure those reporters who make our life hell don’t come near you. Neither of us want you to ever be hurt by the lies they spread, and that is why we are willing to let them write about us, and have exclusives about our relationship even though it’s nobody’s business but our own. The reason the tabloids don’t talk about you is because of how fiercely and how well your mother protects you. They don’t dare mention your names because they know your mother will come after them, and to the best of my ability, and whatever tiny influence I have, that I would go after them too.

“Is that true, mom?” Caroline croaked, blue eyes meeting blue in a silent question.

Andy let her hands fall from the little girl’s shoulders and gestured Cassidy forward to join them. She felt a firm pressure on her shoulder, so strong as to be almost painful and she turned her head to see Miranda join her on her knees on the floor of the hallway.

Andy quickly moved to help the older woman into the awkward position it seemed she desired and steadied her from being pulled off-balance with a hand at the small of her back. Two sniffling redheads quickly burrowed into either side of their mother’s swollen stomach, desperately seeking comfort even as they were still angry with her.

“My precious Bobbsey’s,” Miranda whispered, her fingers lightly combing through each auburn crown. “From the moment you were placed in my arms, nothing has ever been more important in my life. And I know that I haven’t been as present as perhaps I should…”

“Mom, we know you love us.”

“Yeah, we don’t want any other mother…”

“Except Andy, but she’s a different kind of mom.”

Accepting the help of the other three women to rise once more to her feet, Miranda stroked the chins of each of her daughters, an idea coming into her mind that might help to ease the struggles her daughters were currently facing in accepting their new siblings and the attention being brought to them because of who and what she was.

Several minutes later saw the small family seated on the couch in the living room, looking through old picture albums Miranda kept in her study.

“Mom! How could you dress us like that?”

“It was the nineties, I assure you my darlings you were at the height of infant fashion.”

The twins still looked horrified as they looked down at the pair of two year olds dressed in pink frilly t-shirts tucked into denim overalls, white Velcro sneakers attached snugly to their feet as they sat on a picnic table, some disembodied arm supporting them from behind as they laughed at the camera.

Having spent the evening going through old pictures with the girls, Andy lay on the couch that night, going through the albums herself as Miranda worked on the book from the couch across from her. The swelling having abated after a three hour nap.

Andy pointed to one of the photos on the page. It was a rare one of a widely smiling Miranda, ten years younger, reclining on the couch much like she was now, a faint blush colouring her cheeks even as she appeared to be proudly showing off her much smaller but still rounded belly to whoever was behind the camera.

“That’s what I want for them. To know how loved they are and how much we want them.”

Miranda’s fingers traced lightly over the expensive vellum, over the ridges of the old photographs.

“Aren’t you excited?” Andy looked up at Miranda, dreading the answer she feared was coming from the oft seemingly cold-hearted editor, although she knew differently.

“Yes,” Miranda shifted slightly from where she was lying against the couch, still in a prone position from watching the movie and elegant fingers rolled the waistband of her pajamas down so that the whole of her bare belly was in plain view, something she usually hated, framed at the top and bottom by pale hands that cupped it with more tenderness than anyone would have thought possible of the ruthless editor.

“I so wish to know these two little lives, Andrea. So much so that I haven’t dared say how much because I know how much there is that stands in the way. That is the truth that I’m not sure you want to hear. I can’t think of them with that kind of peace or certainty of the future until I’m that much closer to the finish line. The press may be right about my heart being frozen, but even something frozen can break I assure you, despite being hard it is also brittle and know that it will break if anything were to happen…I’m not as heartless as that.

“Miranda, that’s not…”

“But in spite of that fear, to answer your question, yes I am ‘excited’. Never in a million years would I ever have imagined myself, Ice Queen, Dragon Lady, pregnant at this age, and engaged, to a woman no less, half my age and yet I find I want all these things, things that belong to a younger person’s world, I want them all with you.

I could never have gotten through this ordeal and this pregnancy without you and I’m not foolish enough to believe that I would be sitting here, as I am without your support over these last months. You are as much a miracle to me as these babies, Andrea, and I won’t always be able to show you that because of who I am and who I will always be, but you are, Andrea, my miracle and you have given me these miracles in more ways than one.”

“And you said you wouldn’t be able to find the words. Can I get that in writing for the days I make you crazy?”

“Shall we just pin it on the wall then? Or you know, I still haven’t written my wedding vows” Miranda parried back, a wicked twinkle in her eye.

“Nah, I think I can remember, and I certainly don’t want to share” Andy leaned in to kiss Miranda, slowly, tenderly, wanting Miranda to know how much she was wanted as well before pressing her lips almost painfully hard against the sharp stone on Miranda’s left finger in an unspoken promise.

“Sweet talker,” Miranda murmured, her eyes closing against their own volition as the younger woman’s lips once again met hers as she led them towards the stairs.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” Andy apologized at the older woman’s hiss and sharp intake of breath as she continued smoothing a silicone scar sheet over part of Miranda’s belly. The sheets were supposed to lessen the appearance of and smooth the raised ridges of scars and stretch marks. Ugly purple and pink lines stretched across the sides and bottom of her belly, the skin stretched so tightly that the stretch marks looked angry; red and swollen and were, judging by Miranda’s description, quite painful. They had tried everything, every expensive lotion and cream and serum to no avail; even the most gentle of moisturizing mists and sprays had irritated the inflamed marks. Andy joked that she had rubbed so much coconut oil into Miranda’s belly that the babies were going to come out and instantly tan under the hospital lights. But the simple truth was that at 31 weeks, the editor was full to the brim, her body tired and strained even as its occupants tested and pushed its limits. Wearing the pelvic support belt when she conceded to wear it helped somewhat so that the weight of her belly didn’t pull at the skin that otherwise felt as though it would tear.

It was coming close to the time they would have to start watching her for signs of labour. The babies were expected to come early and so it was vital that the labour and birth take place in the hospital where the severely premature infants could be given the care they needed.

“Now darlings we’ve talked about the fact that mummy’s going to stay in the hospital for a few days. But you should know too the babies won’t be coming home at the same time.”

“Why aren’t they coming with you?”

“They, they…” Miranda began to answer but the words were lost as she opened and shut her mouth until Andy took over.

“Remember when we said that theirs would be a special delivery because we were getting to meet them early?”

Two red heads nodded as they curled around Miranda on the couch.

“Well the babies need a little extra time too to catch up on their growing before they come home.”

“So if they need to grow some more, why are they coming early?”

“Yeah, shouldn’t they just stay in mom’s belly until they’re big enough to not need to stay in the hospital?”

A look of anguish passed over Miranda’s face at this, but she soon straightened her features and laid a hand on Cassidy’s back as Caroline was currently snuggled into her right side.

“Yes, Bobbsey, normally they would. But as we’ve talked about, you know the babies are sick, and the safest place for them isn’t in mummy’s tummy anymore.”

“So why’d the babies get sick, did mom do something wrong?”

The question was asked innocently enough but Andy could see Miranda fighting her emotions and so she continued to direct the girls’ attention to herself as she answered.

“No.” Andy stated firmly, looking each girl in the eye. “Your mom did nothing wrong. Sometimes things just happen and we have to deal with them the best we can. And the best we can do right now is make sure your mom gets lots of rest, eats healthy and has no stress; and we need both your help with that.

“What can we do mom?”

“Can we get you anything?”

“A blanket? Some juice?” Two eager little voiced chimed in.

“You’re doing wonderfully as you are, Bobbsey’s, Miranda’s hand stroked through both heads of hair.