Tickle Tantrum Chapter 4b/?
Tickle Tantrum
Chapter 4B/?
Pairing: Miranda/Andy
Rating: Um, PG 13 maybe?
Disclaimer: See Part 1.
A/N 1 Any and all understanding of the American legal system that I possess is completely down to a very substantial and probably unhealthy diet of American cop/lawyer shows. And this is why I’ve handed Miranda’s problem to the specific unit I have, because of the nature of the complaint. So any inaccuracies are purely the product of my own mind and Dick Wolf’s proliferation of shows. Pffft.
A/N 2 For those who may wish to know, the issues I have given Miranda with regard to her emotions are related to some forms of high functioning Asperger’s Syndrome (sometimes called Autistic Spectrum Disorder). A condition with which I am quite familiar as my own Lady Wife has been diagnosed with Asperger’s.
A/N 3 For you non-Brits, the Chuckle Brothers a real comedy duo here, but are, well somewhat bizarre.
Secure in the knowledge that Miranda would not be back at the office for the rest of the day, Andy entered the Elias Clarke foyer much more sedately than she had earlier in the day. The security guards looked positively bemused to see her strolling toward the elevators holding only her own handbag and a single Starbucks cup.
She continued her relaxed pace when she arrived on the 18th floor and made her way down the corridor toward her desk. Her outward calm belied the turmoil of her thoughts as she continued to wonder and worry about what it was that had Miranda suddenly so spooked. She knew it was something to do with Stephen and the divorce but just couldn’t imagine what might be so bad that the Editor had needed to see her lawyer at such short notice on a Friday afternoon. With another small sigh of concern she decided she would probably find out about it soon enough.
“Have you, hic…got the hic…Pepto-Bismol?” Emily demanded as she appeared suddenly from the kitchenette.
Startled, Andy nearly dropped her Frappuccino.
“Sheesh don’t do that Em! Are you trying to give me a coronary?” She grumbled as she moved past the red head toward the cutlery drawer beside the sink.
“Oh, hic...ple…hic please! Given your wei…hic weight, if you haven’t…hic had one… hic...hic by now…hic a little shock hic...hic...hic wouldn’t do it.” She bit off, determined to have her snipe at Andy despite her hiccups.
Andy turned around with a large spoon in her hand and pointed it directly at her workmate, “Hey, you might try being a little nicer to someone who has what you need for those hiccups, or I just might decide that the drugstore was closed when I went by.”
Emily continued to glare at the brunette in between trying to muffle a series of strangled little hiccups. Seeing the effects of the poor woman’s condition, Andy relented and reached into her handbag pulling out the biggest bottle of the chalky pink drink Emily had ever seen in her life. The red head couldn’t believe Pepto-Bismol came in a 32 oz size. Without a word Andy took a step forward and handed over the bottle and the spoon before heading out to her desk.
Andy booted up her computer and started to make the required changes to Miranda’s schedule for Monday. As she did so, she realised that Miranda still didn’t know about the total fiasco of the Haskell shoot. Her shoulders drooped just a bit as she realised it would be her job to tell the Editor when she delivered the book later that night.
As she considered Miranda’s likely reaction she made a note of all the staff she should call to give them warning that they were probably going to be summoned into the office over the weekend. She pointedly omitted Francesca’s name from the list, knowing that the Accessories editor’s days at Runway were definitely over, and having her show up at the office would just be putting her in the direct line of fire for Miranda’s wrath.
Finishing up with Monday’s schedule, Andy glanced at her watch before darting over to the closet and getting Miranda’s coat. She called out to Emily who still hadn’t emerged from the kitchen area.
“Em, you’re gonna have to get the phone while I take Miranda’s coat down to Roy.” She glanced back at the kitchen door, from which Emily had yet to emerge, but there was no response. Fine, if Emily wanted to sulk then more power to her, Andy had better things to do and continued on her way to the elevator.
Down in the lobby she saw Roy draw up in front of the building and hurried over to open the passenger side door and lay the coat on the seat.
“Hey Roy, here’s Miranda’s coat. I’ve called Mr Walker’s Assistant and she’ll be waiting in the lobby for you when you get there.” She smiled as she shut the door and waved him off before hurrying back inside. She was glad she’d thought to have him swing round for the coat, the late March days were warm enough, but once the sun was gone the temperatures were still quite chilly. Miranda would definitely need her coat for her journey home.
On her way back up to the office Andy decided to let Emily sulk a little bit longer and detoured with a quick trip to the bathroom. As she walked down the corridor leading to Miranda’s office she heard someone howling with laughter and just as she was about to round the corner, Emily’s voice snapped across the sound and identified the offender.
“For God’s sake Nigel, grow up! Did you think I was going to chug it from the bottle? I’m not Andrea you know!”
As the reception area came into view she stopped dead at the sight of Nigel doubled over with laughter, tears streaming down his face. Emily was facing away from the corridor as she busily clacked away at her computer. Beside her keyboard was a large glass tumbler with about a quarter inch of pink liquid in the bottom. The paler pink residue on the sides indicated that it had been filled to the brim. As Andy continued her approach Emily reached for the glass and finished the rest of the medicine.
Bending to assist the nearly helpless man in front of Emily’s desk to straighten up, Andy chuckled herself and asked, “Is this a new exercise regime Nigel? Lose weight with Laughter?”
Nigel continued to chortle and gasp unable to get his breath back enough to speak. As Andy patted him on the back Emily turned to continue her tirade against Nigel, and Andy let out a strangled squeak as she witnessed what had been the balding man’s undoing. Emily was sporting a shocking pink Pepto-Bismol moustache. Before she could help herself Andy too began to snicker, actually trembling as she tried to hold back her laughter.
“Oh that’s just wonderful, the ruddy Chuckle Brothers are on tour in Manhattan, I must let my nephew know, he’ll be thrilled.” Emily managed to maintain her glare even as she rolled her eyes at the giggling pair. “You two keep on cackling, some of us have work to do.” With that she turned back to her computer.
Pulling herself together, Andy went to her desk and got her handbag from her bottom drawer. She felt around for a few seconds and then walked over to Emily’s desk and handed her a compact mirror and a pack of wet wipes.
“What’s this? Trying to give me make-up tips Andrea?” Emily sniffed dismissively at the items on her desk.
“Absolutely,” was Andy’s quick response. “I may not know much about make-up Em, but I do know that pink really isn’t your colour, not with that shade of hair.” She winked at Nigel as she sat down at her desk.
“Spoilsport.” He managed to whisper as he took out a handkerchief and dabbed at his eyes.
“Pink? What are you talking about, I’m not wearing pink.” Emily grabbed the compact and jerked it open. When she saw the thick neon film covering her upper lip she let out a screech. “Nigel! You Cretin, why didn’t you tell me?!” Snatching up the wet wipes she removed the offending blemish and snapped the compact shut.
Narrowing her eyes at the still giggling man, she pulled back her arm and winged the compact at him with deadly accuracy, nailing him right between the eyes. Nigel clapped the bridge of his nose and blinked through tears of pain.
“Jesus Emily you could have put my eye out,” he whined as he continued rubbing the stinging spot between his eyes.
“Just be grateful the round one over there has a round compact,” she snapped back. Giving him another filthy look she turned back to her computer and announced, “I hate you both.
“Hey! I’m the one who gave you the heads up! And stop making cracks about my size, I’m not fat.” Andy protested indignantly
With a dismissive shrug of her shoulders Emily continued typing as she replied, “No. Shant.”
******
“Okay Miranda, that should be enough for the moment. I’ll just see if I can get through to Captain Cragen in the Special Victims Unit.” Philip looked up from the notes he’d been taking as Miranda had described the key points of Stephen’s actions to date.
“The Special Victims Unit?” Miranda raised an eyebrow in question.
“It’s the unit that investigates crimes involving sexual assault, the very young, or the very elderly, as well as any crime loosely connected with any of the three.”
“I wasn’t assaulted Philip, believe me it was completely consensual.”
“But you didn’t consent to being filmed Miranda, and that falls under the “loosely connected” aspect or their remit.”
“Fine, I’m sure you know best. Make your call Philip.”
He pulled the phone closer and placed the call, managing to just catch the Captain before the end of his duty. He filled him in on the main facts and agreed to a time for Miranda to be interviewed.
“Thank you Captain, your assistance and your discretion are greatly appreciated. We’ll see your people tomorrow then.” He hung up the phone and focused on Miranda.
“As you’re not in any immediate danger he agreed that it would be sufficient to send two detectives to interview you tomorrow at 11am at the townhouse.” He wrote the details of the meeting into his diary when something occurred to him.
“Are the girls with you this weekend?”
Miranda glanced at her watch before answering, “No, I’ve sent them to their grandmothers for the foreseeable future. I don’t want them in town when this hits the headlines. Even if by some miracle we manage to keep the video footage from the press, it will still be pandemonium when Stephen is arrested. I want them as far away from that as possible.”
Knowing how important the twins were to Miranda and how protective she was of them, he wasn’t surprised to hear that she’d already seen to their needs.
“Right, that’s definitely for the best I’m sure. I’ll be there just before 11:00 to fill you in on some of the details the detectives may need to know and to prep you as much as possible. Once they’ve interviewed you we’ll have a better idea of how they’re going to proceed and I’ll walk you through what will happen next.”
He paused for a moment and looked steadily into her eyes as he assured her, “Just as you said Miranda, Stephen is over. The bastard won’t know what hit him.”
“I have every confidence in you Philip. If there’s nothing else for the moment I’ll be on my way, my driver should be here now.”
“No, there’s nothing more for now,” he rose and escorted Miranda to the door, just before they reached it, he placed a gentle hand on her arm and said quietly, “I’m truly sorry this has happened to you Miranda.”
She looked at her long time friend and read the sincerity in his eyes before leaning in to give him a very real kiss on the cheek.
“Thank you Philip, you’re a dear friend and I appreciate your concern.” She patted his hand before she gently disengaged his grip on her arm.
When they exited the office, Helen came up to them and handed Miranda her coat, who took it with a look of utter surprise on her face.
Seeing the look of surprise, Helen explained. “Your assistant Andrea rang me and asked me to pop down and collect this from your driver when he arrived to pick you up. He’s waiting for you in front of the building.”
Miranda nodded her thanks to the older woman and put on the coat, thinking all the while that it was very thoughtful of Andrea to have sent it.
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning then Miranda.” Philip continued to walk with her to the firm’s entrance doors. Miranda nodded and before exiting she wished Helen a good weekend.
As she travelled down from the 22nd floor she began buttoning the coat against the chilly spring evening; her pleasant thoughts of the woman who had sent it giving her a small reprieve from the less than welcome thoughts about Stephen and her current situation.
******
Nigel had made good his escape from Emily’s disapproving shoulders very soon after being hit by Andy’s compact, and Emily spent the remaining 20 minutes she stayed in the office, pointedly ignoring Andy as she concentrated on her computer.
She wasn’t actually working, she was instead frantically Googling the calorific content of both Pepto-Bismol and miniature hearing aids. While she was relieved to discover that the hideously pink medicine was calorie free because it contained no sugar, oils, or proteins, she was becoming frustrated at not finding any information about the hearing aid. She finally decided that no information must mean no calories and shut down her computer for the night.
With a final sniff in Andy’s direction she left the office. As she travelled to the lobby she sent up a heartfelt prayer to any deity that might be listening that Monday would contain considerably less mortifying incidents for her than this day had.
Left waiting for the book Andy fell into her normal routine of a Miranda-less and Emily-less office, she turned her computer’s i-tunes selection on and made herself a cup of tea. When she entered the kitchenette to boil the water, she noticed the Haskell bags on the table and opened one of the boxes to have another look at the bracelet it contained. She lifted it out of the box and held it to her wrist, noting that it was incredibly beautiful. Putting the chunky turquoise piece back, she thought again that it was a real shame that the pieces couldn’t be used just because of their colour.
The kettle whistled at this point and she looked over to the stove, noticing the gas flame under the old fashioned appliance that Miranda had insisted on having. With that glance an idea began to form about how they might be able to salvage the June issue and use the Haskell collection to help do it.
Taking her tea back to her desk, she began to do some research, scribbling notes on her pad as she surfed the net for inspiration. The Book still hadn’t been delivered by the time she’d finished her tea but she didn’t mind as she looked over the notes she’d just made, there were some definite possibilities there, she just didn’t know if Miranda would like any of them.
As Andy continued to wait, her thoughts persistently began to focus on Miranda and her extreme behaviour during the day and in the preceding weeks. Her constant annoyance bordering on, and many times tipping over into outright anger, had been draining for everyone around the demanding woman. It was something of an epiphany when Andy realised that it had probably been just as draining for Miranda as it had for everyone else. It had to be tiring to sustain that level of tension and anger all the time she thought.
Sighing she looked at the clock which read 8:30pm, and rang the production department only to find out that it would be at least another half hour maybe more before they had the Book ready. With nothing else to do she decided to write some of the overdue e-mails she owed to various family members. She prided herself on keeping up with her parents and her brother, making sure to send them e-mails at least once a week. But it had been a while since she’d written to her grandmother or her Aunts or cousins.
Scrolling through her family e-mail file she came across one from her Aunt Virginia that had been sent over a month before and to which she still hadn’t replied. She opened it and read all the news about her uncle’s new snowmobile and how her aunt was convinced he was going to drive it into a tree any day now, about how her cousin Phoebe had finally decided on what to major in when she started college next September. The final bit of news had been about her cousin Martin and how he’d been involved in a major study being conducted by the Autism Society of America. The study had focused on comparing the experiences of teenagers who had been diagnosed with an Autistic Spectrum Disorder and offered training and help before they reached puberty with those who were diagnosed during or after puberty and therefore had had less support in dealing with their special social communication needs.
As she thought about her cousin, her mind flashed back to Miranda’s face when she was in the car with her earlier in the afternoon. She remembered the rapid change of emotions that had skittered over the older woman’s features as if she wasn’t sure which one to stop and engage with. As she thought back further she remembered witnessing a similar emotional kaleidoscope on her bosses face in a hotel room in Paris over two months earlier.
She realised now that the struggle that had played itself out in Miranda’s features had been a little bit familiar to her, it was very similar to how her cousin had looked when he was in a hyper emotional state and struggling to process several emotions at once. Her aunt had explained to her that one aspect of Martin’s Aspergers Syndrome was an inability to “do” more than one emotion at time. This meant in times of emotional tumult he would focus on the emotion he felt best equipped to deal with and suppress all the others. In Martin’s case the emotion he worked with was sadness, it was what he felt safe expressing.
Her aunt and uncle had learned that while their son’s condition didn’t allow him to process and express more than one emotion at a time, it didn’t mean that he didn’t have or need to experience the full spectrum of emotions. It just meant he needed some assistance in managing an outlet for the unexpressed emotions to be released. They learned the consequences of Martin not being able to vent those suppressed emotions the hard way; before they discovered how to help him, if he was overwhelmed by several emotions at once he would go into a meltdown where he wouldn’t be able to communicate and where his body would freeze and go completely rigid. He’d actually given himself a hernia when he was five years old just from the tension his body had been exerting.
It suddenly struck Andy that this was a damned good description of how Miranda behaved emotionally, only it would seem that Miranda’s most easily accessed emotion wasn’t sadness, it was anger. And her version of a meltdown could be seen in the instances when she went completely rigid and pursed her lips so tightly you could hardly even see a white line, the times when she went totally quiet for long minutes at a time, or as Nigel referred to these times, when she went into her mini ice ages.
She realised her cousin had been fortunate to have parents that understood there was something more serious going on with their son than just normal “growing pains”. They’d taken him to specialists and gotten not only a diagnosis but instructions on how to help Martin cope with his condition. She remembered how they had learned to help him vent his excess and tangled emotions and how this had improved both his emotional and physical health. The first time she’d seen their method of help she’d been completely shocked, but she’d also seen the results afterward and couldn’t deny that the method worked, and continued to work if subsequent instances she’d witnessed were anything to go by.
Andy was brought out of her ruminations by the thud of the Book being deposited on her desk and the short mumbled apology offered by Merv the copy boy. She powered down her computer and gathered her things along with the Book and headed toward the elevators for the final time that day. As she walked a crazy thought went skittering through her mind. “I wonder if Aunty Gin’s method would help Miranda out?”
The doors of the elevator closed and she began her descent as she gave a loud snort and said out loud. “Oh yeah, that’s gonna happen! I’ll just walk up to Miranda Priestly and start to tickle her. Oh yeah, definitely...NOT!”
Chapter 4B/?
Pairing: Miranda/Andy
Rating: Um, PG 13 maybe?
Disclaimer: See Part 1.
A/N 1 Any and all understanding of the American legal system that I possess is completely down to a very substantial and probably unhealthy diet of American cop/lawyer shows. And this is why I’ve handed Miranda’s problem to the specific unit I have, because of the nature of the complaint. So any inaccuracies are purely the product of my own mind and Dick Wolf’s proliferation of shows. Pffft.
A/N 2 For those who may wish to know, the issues I have given Miranda with regard to her emotions are related to some forms of high functioning Asperger’s Syndrome (sometimes called Autistic Spectrum Disorder). A condition with which I am quite familiar as my own Lady Wife has been diagnosed with Asperger’s.
A/N 3 For you non-Brits, the Chuckle Brothers a real comedy duo here, but are, well somewhat bizarre.
Secure in the knowledge that Miranda would not be back at the office for the rest of the day, Andy entered the Elias Clarke foyer much more sedately than she had earlier in the day. The security guards looked positively bemused to see her strolling toward the elevators holding only her own handbag and a single Starbucks cup.
She continued her relaxed pace when she arrived on the 18th floor and made her way down the corridor toward her desk. Her outward calm belied the turmoil of her thoughts as she continued to wonder and worry about what it was that had Miranda suddenly so spooked. She knew it was something to do with Stephen and the divorce but just couldn’t imagine what might be so bad that the Editor had needed to see her lawyer at such short notice on a Friday afternoon. With another small sigh of concern she decided she would probably find out about it soon enough.
“Have you, hic…got the hic…Pepto-Bismol?” Emily demanded as she appeared suddenly from the kitchenette.
Startled, Andy nearly dropped her Frappuccino.
“Sheesh don’t do that Em! Are you trying to give me a coronary?” She grumbled as she moved past the red head toward the cutlery drawer beside the sink.
“Oh, hic...ple…hic please! Given your wei…hic weight, if you haven’t…hic had one… hic...hic by now…hic a little shock hic...hic...hic wouldn’t do it.” She bit off, determined to have her snipe at Andy despite her hiccups.
Andy turned around with a large spoon in her hand and pointed it directly at her workmate, “Hey, you might try being a little nicer to someone who has what you need for those hiccups, or I just might decide that the drugstore was closed when I went by.”
Emily continued to glare at the brunette in between trying to muffle a series of strangled little hiccups. Seeing the effects of the poor woman’s condition, Andy relented and reached into her handbag pulling out the biggest bottle of the chalky pink drink Emily had ever seen in her life. The red head couldn’t believe Pepto-Bismol came in a 32 oz size. Without a word Andy took a step forward and handed over the bottle and the spoon before heading out to her desk.
Andy booted up her computer and started to make the required changes to Miranda’s schedule for Monday. As she did so, she realised that Miranda still didn’t know about the total fiasco of the Haskell shoot. Her shoulders drooped just a bit as she realised it would be her job to tell the Editor when she delivered the book later that night.
As she considered Miranda’s likely reaction she made a note of all the staff she should call to give them warning that they were probably going to be summoned into the office over the weekend. She pointedly omitted Francesca’s name from the list, knowing that the Accessories editor’s days at Runway were definitely over, and having her show up at the office would just be putting her in the direct line of fire for Miranda’s wrath.
Finishing up with Monday’s schedule, Andy glanced at her watch before darting over to the closet and getting Miranda’s coat. She called out to Emily who still hadn’t emerged from the kitchen area.
“Em, you’re gonna have to get the phone while I take Miranda’s coat down to Roy.” She glanced back at the kitchen door, from which Emily had yet to emerge, but there was no response. Fine, if Emily wanted to sulk then more power to her, Andy had better things to do and continued on her way to the elevator.
Down in the lobby she saw Roy draw up in front of the building and hurried over to open the passenger side door and lay the coat on the seat.
“Hey Roy, here’s Miranda’s coat. I’ve called Mr Walker’s Assistant and she’ll be waiting in the lobby for you when you get there.” She smiled as she shut the door and waved him off before hurrying back inside. She was glad she’d thought to have him swing round for the coat, the late March days were warm enough, but once the sun was gone the temperatures were still quite chilly. Miranda would definitely need her coat for her journey home.
On her way back up to the office Andy decided to let Emily sulk a little bit longer and detoured with a quick trip to the bathroom. As she walked down the corridor leading to Miranda’s office she heard someone howling with laughter and just as she was about to round the corner, Emily’s voice snapped across the sound and identified the offender.
“For God’s sake Nigel, grow up! Did you think I was going to chug it from the bottle? I’m not Andrea you know!”
As the reception area came into view she stopped dead at the sight of Nigel doubled over with laughter, tears streaming down his face. Emily was facing away from the corridor as she busily clacked away at her computer. Beside her keyboard was a large glass tumbler with about a quarter inch of pink liquid in the bottom. The paler pink residue on the sides indicated that it had been filled to the brim. As Andy continued her approach Emily reached for the glass and finished the rest of the medicine.
Bending to assist the nearly helpless man in front of Emily’s desk to straighten up, Andy chuckled herself and asked, “Is this a new exercise regime Nigel? Lose weight with Laughter?”
Nigel continued to chortle and gasp unable to get his breath back enough to speak. As Andy patted him on the back Emily turned to continue her tirade against Nigel, and Andy let out a strangled squeak as she witnessed what had been the balding man’s undoing. Emily was sporting a shocking pink Pepto-Bismol moustache. Before she could help herself Andy too began to snicker, actually trembling as she tried to hold back her laughter.
“Oh that’s just wonderful, the ruddy Chuckle Brothers are on tour in Manhattan, I must let my nephew know, he’ll be thrilled.” Emily managed to maintain her glare even as she rolled her eyes at the giggling pair. “You two keep on cackling, some of us have work to do.” With that she turned back to her computer.
Pulling herself together, Andy went to her desk and got her handbag from her bottom drawer. She felt around for a few seconds and then walked over to Emily’s desk and handed her a compact mirror and a pack of wet wipes.
“What’s this? Trying to give me make-up tips Andrea?” Emily sniffed dismissively at the items on her desk.
“Absolutely,” was Andy’s quick response. “I may not know much about make-up Em, but I do know that pink really isn’t your colour, not with that shade of hair.” She winked at Nigel as she sat down at her desk.
“Spoilsport.” He managed to whisper as he took out a handkerchief and dabbed at his eyes.
“Pink? What are you talking about, I’m not wearing pink.” Emily grabbed the compact and jerked it open. When she saw the thick neon film covering her upper lip she let out a screech. “Nigel! You Cretin, why didn’t you tell me?!” Snatching up the wet wipes she removed the offending blemish and snapped the compact shut.
Narrowing her eyes at the still giggling man, she pulled back her arm and winged the compact at him with deadly accuracy, nailing him right between the eyes. Nigel clapped the bridge of his nose and blinked through tears of pain.
“Jesus Emily you could have put my eye out,” he whined as he continued rubbing the stinging spot between his eyes.
“Just be grateful the round one over there has a round compact,” she snapped back. Giving him another filthy look she turned back to her computer and announced, “I hate you both.
“Hey! I’m the one who gave you the heads up! And stop making cracks about my size, I’m not fat.” Andy protested indignantly
With a dismissive shrug of her shoulders Emily continued typing as she replied, “No. Shant.”
******
“Okay Miranda, that should be enough for the moment. I’ll just see if I can get through to Captain Cragen in the Special Victims Unit.” Philip looked up from the notes he’d been taking as Miranda had described the key points of Stephen’s actions to date.
“The Special Victims Unit?” Miranda raised an eyebrow in question.
“It’s the unit that investigates crimes involving sexual assault, the very young, or the very elderly, as well as any crime loosely connected with any of the three.”
“I wasn’t assaulted Philip, believe me it was completely consensual.”
“But you didn’t consent to being filmed Miranda, and that falls under the “loosely connected” aspect or their remit.”
“Fine, I’m sure you know best. Make your call Philip.”
He pulled the phone closer and placed the call, managing to just catch the Captain before the end of his duty. He filled him in on the main facts and agreed to a time for Miranda to be interviewed.
“Thank you Captain, your assistance and your discretion are greatly appreciated. We’ll see your people tomorrow then.” He hung up the phone and focused on Miranda.
“As you’re not in any immediate danger he agreed that it would be sufficient to send two detectives to interview you tomorrow at 11am at the townhouse.” He wrote the details of the meeting into his diary when something occurred to him.
“Are the girls with you this weekend?”
Miranda glanced at her watch before answering, “No, I’ve sent them to their grandmothers for the foreseeable future. I don’t want them in town when this hits the headlines. Even if by some miracle we manage to keep the video footage from the press, it will still be pandemonium when Stephen is arrested. I want them as far away from that as possible.”
Knowing how important the twins were to Miranda and how protective she was of them, he wasn’t surprised to hear that she’d already seen to their needs.
“Right, that’s definitely for the best I’m sure. I’ll be there just before 11:00 to fill you in on some of the details the detectives may need to know and to prep you as much as possible. Once they’ve interviewed you we’ll have a better idea of how they’re going to proceed and I’ll walk you through what will happen next.”
He paused for a moment and looked steadily into her eyes as he assured her, “Just as you said Miranda, Stephen is over. The bastard won’t know what hit him.”
“I have every confidence in you Philip. If there’s nothing else for the moment I’ll be on my way, my driver should be here now.”
“No, there’s nothing more for now,” he rose and escorted Miranda to the door, just before they reached it, he placed a gentle hand on her arm and said quietly, “I’m truly sorry this has happened to you Miranda.”
She looked at her long time friend and read the sincerity in his eyes before leaning in to give him a very real kiss on the cheek.
“Thank you Philip, you’re a dear friend and I appreciate your concern.” She patted his hand before she gently disengaged his grip on her arm.
When they exited the office, Helen came up to them and handed Miranda her coat, who took it with a look of utter surprise on her face.
Seeing the look of surprise, Helen explained. “Your assistant Andrea rang me and asked me to pop down and collect this from your driver when he arrived to pick you up. He’s waiting for you in front of the building.”
Miranda nodded her thanks to the older woman and put on the coat, thinking all the while that it was very thoughtful of Andrea to have sent it.
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning then Miranda.” Philip continued to walk with her to the firm’s entrance doors. Miranda nodded and before exiting she wished Helen a good weekend.
As she travelled down from the 22nd floor she began buttoning the coat against the chilly spring evening; her pleasant thoughts of the woman who had sent it giving her a small reprieve from the less than welcome thoughts about Stephen and her current situation.
******
Nigel had made good his escape from Emily’s disapproving shoulders very soon after being hit by Andy’s compact, and Emily spent the remaining 20 minutes she stayed in the office, pointedly ignoring Andy as she concentrated on her computer.
She wasn’t actually working, she was instead frantically Googling the calorific content of both Pepto-Bismol and miniature hearing aids. While she was relieved to discover that the hideously pink medicine was calorie free because it contained no sugar, oils, or proteins, she was becoming frustrated at not finding any information about the hearing aid. She finally decided that no information must mean no calories and shut down her computer for the night.
With a final sniff in Andy’s direction she left the office. As she travelled to the lobby she sent up a heartfelt prayer to any deity that might be listening that Monday would contain considerably less mortifying incidents for her than this day had.
Left waiting for the book Andy fell into her normal routine of a Miranda-less and Emily-less office, she turned her computer’s i-tunes selection on and made herself a cup of tea. When she entered the kitchenette to boil the water, she noticed the Haskell bags on the table and opened one of the boxes to have another look at the bracelet it contained. She lifted it out of the box and held it to her wrist, noting that it was incredibly beautiful. Putting the chunky turquoise piece back, she thought again that it was a real shame that the pieces couldn’t be used just because of their colour.
The kettle whistled at this point and she looked over to the stove, noticing the gas flame under the old fashioned appliance that Miranda had insisted on having. With that glance an idea began to form about how they might be able to salvage the June issue and use the Haskell collection to help do it.
Taking her tea back to her desk, she began to do some research, scribbling notes on her pad as she surfed the net for inspiration. The Book still hadn’t been delivered by the time she’d finished her tea but she didn’t mind as she looked over the notes she’d just made, there were some definite possibilities there, she just didn’t know if Miranda would like any of them.
As Andy continued to wait, her thoughts persistently began to focus on Miranda and her extreme behaviour during the day and in the preceding weeks. Her constant annoyance bordering on, and many times tipping over into outright anger, had been draining for everyone around the demanding woman. It was something of an epiphany when Andy realised that it had probably been just as draining for Miranda as it had for everyone else. It had to be tiring to sustain that level of tension and anger all the time she thought.
Sighing she looked at the clock which read 8:30pm, and rang the production department only to find out that it would be at least another half hour maybe more before they had the Book ready. With nothing else to do she decided to write some of the overdue e-mails she owed to various family members. She prided herself on keeping up with her parents and her brother, making sure to send them e-mails at least once a week. But it had been a while since she’d written to her grandmother or her Aunts or cousins.
Scrolling through her family e-mail file she came across one from her Aunt Virginia that had been sent over a month before and to which she still hadn’t replied. She opened it and read all the news about her uncle’s new snowmobile and how her aunt was convinced he was going to drive it into a tree any day now, about how her cousin Phoebe had finally decided on what to major in when she started college next September. The final bit of news had been about her cousin Martin and how he’d been involved in a major study being conducted by the Autism Society of America. The study had focused on comparing the experiences of teenagers who had been diagnosed with an Autistic Spectrum Disorder and offered training and help before they reached puberty with those who were diagnosed during or after puberty and therefore had had less support in dealing with their special social communication needs.
As she thought about her cousin, her mind flashed back to Miranda’s face when she was in the car with her earlier in the afternoon. She remembered the rapid change of emotions that had skittered over the older woman’s features as if she wasn’t sure which one to stop and engage with. As she thought back further she remembered witnessing a similar emotional kaleidoscope on her bosses face in a hotel room in Paris over two months earlier.
She realised now that the struggle that had played itself out in Miranda’s features had been a little bit familiar to her, it was very similar to how her cousin had looked when he was in a hyper emotional state and struggling to process several emotions at once. Her aunt had explained to her that one aspect of Martin’s Aspergers Syndrome was an inability to “do” more than one emotion at time. This meant in times of emotional tumult he would focus on the emotion he felt best equipped to deal with and suppress all the others. In Martin’s case the emotion he worked with was sadness, it was what he felt safe expressing.
Her aunt and uncle had learned that while their son’s condition didn’t allow him to process and express more than one emotion at a time, it didn’t mean that he didn’t have or need to experience the full spectrum of emotions. It just meant he needed some assistance in managing an outlet for the unexpressed emotions to be released. They learned the consequences of Martin not being able to vent those suppressed emotions the hard way; before they discovered how to help him, if he was overwhelmed by several emotions at once he would go into a meltdown where he wouldn’t be able to communicate and where his body would freeze and go completely rigid. He’d actually given himself a hernia when he was five years old just from the tension his body had been exerting.
It suddenly struck Andy that this was a damned good description of how Miranda behaved emotionally, only it would seem that Miranda’s most easily accessed emotion wasn’t sadness, it was anger. And her version of a meltdown could be seen in the instances when she went completely rigid and pursed her lips so tightly you could hardly even see a white line, the times when she went totally quiet for long minutes at a time, or as Nigel referred to these times, when she went into her mini ice ages.
She realised her cousin had been fortunate to have parents that understood there was something more serious going on with their son than just normal “growing pains”. They’d taken him to specialists and gotten not only a diagnosis but instructions on how to help Martin cope with his condition. She remembered how they had learned to help him vent his excess and tangled emotions and how this had improved both his emotional and physical health. The first time she’d seen their method of help she’d been completely shocked, but she’d also seen the results afterward and couldn’t deny that the method worked, and continued to work if subsequent instances she’d witnessed were anything to go by.
Andy was brought out of her ruminations by the thud of the Book being deposited on her desk and the short mumbled apology offered by Merv the copy boy. She powered down her computer and gathered her things along with the Book and headed toward the elevators for the final time that day. As she walked a crazy thought went skittering through her mind. “I wonder if Aunty Gin’s method would help Miranda out?”
The doors of the elevator closed and she began her descent as she gave a loud snort and said out loud. “Oh yeah, that’s gonna happen! I’ll just walk up to Miranda Priestly and start to tickle her. Oh yeah, definitely...NOT!”