VOCALISE - CHAPTER 10
Title: Vocalise
Rating: PG-13 I think... yesh, it's surprising! :-O
Warning: Established character death. T__T
Pairing: Andy/Miranda
Length: 8300 words (this chapter)
Prompt: based on a prompt by amles80
Summary: A/U - Miranda is a choral director and Andy is a journalist who enjoys singing. Miranda has a painful past and Andy has to learn to believe in herself. Miranda is 47, Andy is 26 in this story.
Disclaimer: I don’t own The Devil Wears Prada.
Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9
A/N: Alright, I said it would take a while but somehow tonight I've had a writing attack and it just kept coming. So here it is! I'm a little tired so if you spot a lot of blatant mistakes, I'm very sorry. I might still edit them out later... sneaky as I am... ^_^;
Chapter 10
Miranda stood in her empty guest bedroom and intently studied the paint swatches in her hand. She had a natural eye for any area of design, and under normal circumstances she could have decorated this space in her sleep. However when it came to her daughter’s ever-changing tastes she was at a complete loss. Caroline would turn sixteen in just one week and Miranda had been under the illusion that giving the teenager her own room, and solidifying their plan of moving the girl back to New York, would prove to be an easy, and infallible gift.
She blankly stared at the different shades of blue, lilac and pink in her hands and sighed in defeat. There was only one person who could be of any help and the conductor wandered into her living room to reach for the phone. Before she could dial Andrea’s number, though, the device rang and after a shocked moment of glaring at it, the name on the caller ID sank in and she quickly picked up.
“Andrea,” she breathed, a youthful grin ghosting across her lips.
“Hey, beautiful lady,” the journalist said on the other end. They hadn’t seen each other since Thursday morning, and although Miranda had somehow managed to fall asleep by herself the previous night, she still felt her body immediately ache for the owner of that sweet voice.
“Your timing is impeccable, Andrea. I need your help with something.” She sat down on the sofa and leaned back into the soft cushions, reminded of the sensual moments they had previously shared in this very spot.
“Sure, what’s up?” The younger woman asked, sounding a bit distracted.
The conductor trailed her fingers over the armrest. “What colour would a teenager’s room need to be these days? You know, to pass as ‘acceptable’.”
“Huh?” Andrea seemed confused at the question, and Miranda heard a lot of background noise, as if the brunette were at a market, or a train station. “Oh! You mean for Caroline?”
“Yes, of course, Andrea. Why else would I pose such a question?” The older woman rolled her eyes but her heart was buzzing with enough warmth at speaking to her young love, that she could not be annoyed with the sluggish response.
“Well, I know she likes blue, just like her room at your parents’.”
“Hmmm.”
“Maybe just stick with that? I realise you want to offer her a new beginning, but maybe a few familiar things won’t do any harm?” Andrea had a point, the conductor knew that. And Caroline’s favourite colour had indeed always been blue. Cassidy had loved pink, and Caroline had always preferred shades of navy or cerulean.
“Excuse me, sir, you dropped this.” The younger woman spoke away from the phone and Miranda heard a muffled ‘thank you’ coming from a deep male voice in the background.
“Andrea, where are you? It sounds like a circus!” She was a tad displeased that the younger woman’s attention was not one hundred percent on her and on the topic of their conversation.
“Sorry, I’m at the airport. That’s why I phoned you.” Now Miranda could hear the faint echos of the intercom, announcing the delay of a flight from Los Angeles. Her throat constricted and her body tensed with slight panic.
“Andrea, where are you going?” That had come out a bit strangled.
“Relax, Miranda! I’m not going anywhere. I’m here to pick up my parents.”
The conductor allowed her muscles to loosen as she slowly exhaled.
“It’s really last-minute, but my Mom phoned me this morning, before their take-off in London. They changed their connecting flight for Cincinnati to Sunday. Apparently they wanted to spend time with me because we didn’t see each other during the holidays.”
“I suppose that makes sense.” Miranda absentmindedly rubbed the back of her neck.
“So, since we have choir tonight...”
The conductor interrupted her. “Andrea, I can’t allow you to skip rehearsal and then still give you the solo parts just because we’re in a relationship.”
“Miranda, I wasn’t going to skip! Geez!” The brunette sounded irritated and it wasn’t a sound Miranda liked very much. “I just wanted to see if it was okay for my parents to come watch. They’ve never actually seen me with the choir so they’d love to come by. I just wanted to ask... you know... to give you a heads-up.”
The older woman silently scolded herself for drawing the wrong conclusion too quickly.
“Andrea, I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright. I’m aware that you worry about your authoritative position. I told you yesterday that I would never consciously do anything to undermine that. I respect you too much.”
“I know, Darling. I’m just being unreasonable...” She closed her eyes and massaged her temples. “And insecure. I’m sorry.”
“Miranda, I love you, and I wouldn’t skip rehearsal for anything in the world. Not because of the potential solos, but because I’d get to see you, doing something you love. Something we both love.” Andrea sighed into the phone. “It’s something I cherish.”
The brunette’s words flooded through the phone and made themselves comfortable in the vast expanse of Miranda’s heart. She loved Andrea so much that she was worried she’d completely lose herself in the young woman, but at the same time she welcomed the sensation of being able to truly rely on someone. To be appreciated for who she was and what she held dear, and not be used in an attempt to get ahead.
“Darling, I love you. I’m sorry for being unpleasant.”
“I love you, too.” Andrea’s warm tone was back and the conductor smiled into the phone and for a few seconds they just revelled in the comfortable silence with only the busy flutter of airport noises in the background.
“Indigo.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“The colour for Caroline’s room. Make it indigo. That will go well with her band posters and it’s dark enough to be ‘cool’ for when her new Dalton friends come over,” the brunette explained.
“Hmmm. Yes, that sounds good, actually.” Miranda searched for the colour in her stack of swatches.
“Don’t sound so surprised! You did ask me for help, after all,” the journalist chuckled and Miranda enjoyed the happy sound.
“Oh, their plane just landed.”
The conductor heard the soft creaking of Andrea’s leather jacket, which caused an image of what the brunette must be wearing to dance in her mind. She usually wore turtlenecks with that jacket, in Miranda’s mind, a fashion crime, but somehow even the strangest combinations looked good on the brunette. Or maybe Andrea simply looked good in anything.
“Oh by the way, tonight, when I bring Mom and Dad, uhm... I don’t know yet how, or when I’m going to tell them about us. I want to test the waters first. I don’t think I can handle another ‘Nate’ incident...”
Miranda curled her free hand into a fist. “If that neanderthal shows his face tonight I will make sure he leaves as a soprano.”
Andrea’s soft giggle smoothed over the older woman’s tension and she unclenched her fingers.
“As spectacular as that may sound, Miranda, I don’t think my parents would take kindly to the woman in my life being a ‘glamazon’ who can castrate with a single glare.”
“That’s a shame.”
The brunette snorted, but then grew serious again. “So, you’d be alright if I just introduced you as our choral director and conductor tonight? As I said, maybe it’ll be comfortable and I can just tell them right away, but I don’t want to hurt your feelings if I have to lie.”
“Darling, just do what feels right.”
“Thank you. I will. I think in any case, I’d want you to meet us for brunch on Sunday. Will you be back from the Hamptons by then?”
“Yes, I can arrange that.”
“Great. Oh, there they are! I gotta go, Miranda. I will see you tonight.”
“Yes, see you tonight, Darling,” the older woman spoke softly and then hung up the phone.
Hmmm, meeting the parents, she thought and rose from the sofa to walk back into the guest room.
-------
Anticipation had her pulse running a marathon as Andy led her parents up the steps of the community centre. The afternoon had been filled with oddly pleasant travel reports on beautiful Europe, and although the young journalist had enjoyed hearing funny anecdotes of her father accidentally ordering goose liver when he had wanted steak or how they had taken the wrong ‘tube’ line in London, she had noted the complete absence of her mother’s usual prodding into the status of her love life.
It should have helped Andy relax, after all it had been the first time in years that her mother didn’t bug her about potential boyfriends or how much she dreamed of having grandchildren. However Andy had felt as if an invisible anxiety had been present in her mother’s features the entire time, much as if she hadn’t really wished to talk about the “Champs-Élysées”, but about something else entirely. That perceived threat of confrontation had propelled the journalist to leave the apartment a bit earlier and they were now waiting by the elevator a whole thirty minutes before rehearsal would begin.
Just as the cabin arrived Andy heard swift footsteps approaching and swirled around to see her friend Doug hurry to slip into the elevator with them.
“Dougie!” Andy wrapped him into a crushing hug and whispered, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He just smirked as they pulled away and then extended a hand to Andy’s mother.
“Mrs. Sachs, it’s a pleasure to see you again!”
“Douglas, I thought we agreed on you calling me ‘Anne’,” Andy’s mother chuckled pleasantly as she shook his hand.
“It’s nice to see you, too”
“Richard,” Doug said with a smirk as he turned to Andy’s father who greeted the young man with a friendly smile of his own.
The cabin arrived at their floor and they lazily walked down the hallway and into the empty auditorium.
“So you’re brave enough to come watch us rehearse?” Doug joked as they moved down the slope to the front row of seats.
Andy’s father patted his daughter’s shoulder and smirked. “We’ve heard great things about your Christmas concert, so we’re confident the rehearsal will prove to be pain-free at the very least.”
“Mom, Dad, you can sit in these chairs over here,” the journalist instructed while nervously keeping an eye on the doors. She had phoned Doug in a panicked need for moral support for when she would introduce Miranda, but now that the moment of truth had nearly arrived, she seriously considered running away. Something was up with her mother and her dad tried too hard to pretend that nothing at all was going on.
Her parents engaged Doug in a friendly conversation about their travels and Andy began tuning out their voices, straining her ears in alert for the slightest clicking of heels from the hallway.
Maybe she needed to wait until after rehearsal, or even until Sunday.
She fidgeted and longed for Miranda to finally get there. Despite being partially responsible for Andy’s apprehensive state, the older woman’s presence would make her feel a lot more at ease.
And then she heard the distinctive stride, and she held her breath when the door swung open and the conductor glided into the auditorium with long, confident steps. The open, moss-green velvet coat flowed back and framed her swaying hips perfectly. The knee-length, plain, black dress was one of the brunette’s favourites and an orange Hermès scarf did a sufficient job at covering that hickey the journalist knew she had left the previous morning. Andy fell in love all over again and for a tiny moment she forgot that her parents were right behind her.
Miranda’s gaze had found Andy’s mother the moment she had set foot through the door and as she came closer Andy could nearly taste the intense scrutiny crackling in the air. The older woman was clearly assessing the threat level and Andy glanced at Miranda pleadingly, attempting to silently convey the uncomfortable situation.
“Uhm, hi Miranda,” she said shyly once the conductor was in front of them. “These are my parents, Anne and Richard Sachs.” She gestured in their direction as they stood to greet Miranda. “Mom, Dad, this is our conductor and choral director, Miranda Priestly.”
To the brunette’s relief, the older woman must have read her mind because she greeted her parents in a polite but reserved manner, just as expected for meeting one of her singers’ family. Showing a slight interest but nothing that would give away that she was sleeping with their daughter.
“How do you do?” Miranda said courtly and Andy could have sworn she saw her mother twitch.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Priestly,” Andy’s father said politely as he shook her hand, while Andy nearly cringed at the designation.
“Please,” the conductor drawled, “call me ‘Miranda’.
Andy shivered. Now was definitely not the time to bring up, ‘oh by the way, she’s also my girlfriend’.
An uncomfortable silence crept around them, and the brunette felt that there was something very eerie about the way her mother looked at Miranda. If she didn’t know better, her mother was sizing up the conductor. It reminded Andy of two predators, slowly circling each other in the prelude of a fight to the death.
To her relief Doug interrupted. “Miranda, if you have a moment, there was something I wanted to ask you about a passage in the kyrie.”
“Of course,” the conductor gave him a polite smile that didn’t reach her eyes, shrugged out of her coat and then followed Doug onto the stage.
“So, that is your choral director,” Andy’s dad mumbled as all three of them watched Miranda walk to the grand piano and elegantly perch over the instrument to study the sheets of music Doug was pointing at.
“Uhm, yep,” was all the brunette could say.
-------
Throughout the entire rehearsal Miranda could feel a pair of dark eyes burn into the back of her head. She was certain that Andrea’s mother was ready to jump at her throat any minute now. Andrea had not given any indication that she had revealed their relationship, however, Miranda was was certain that Anne Sachs knew. The venomous look the conductor had received earlier hadn’t been the only indication. When they had shaken hands there had been a definite hostile vibe seeping from Anne’s entire body.
Andrea appeared to be a nervous wreck. She stood stiff as column, glancing between her mother and Miranda and there was barely any sound coming from the brunette at all. The conductor knew that had it been anyone else she would have coldly told them off in front of the entire choir, making a spectacle of their less than admirable effort. However, despite her earlier declaration of wishing to treat Andrea exactly like everyone else in the choir, all she could do was to put as much reassurance into her gaze as possible without actually retorting to smiling.
To her relief the rest of the choir was doing considerably better that they had on Wednesday. It seemed the singers had done their homework and although the scruffy bass boy and Andrea’s alto friend were absent, the overall sound the men and women produced was pleasant.
“Not bad,” she allowed as soon as the last few notes of the songs had ended. “Memorise your passage and my relevant hand gestures because on Sunday we will attempt to practice in mixed voice positions.” She let her gaze travel over the choir, registering the confusion at her sudden amiability and the mention of new techniques and then dismissed the singers with a simple “that’s all.”
As the men and women scattered off the stage into the rest of their Friday evening, Andrea remained frozen to her spot. Her fingers were frantically playing with the hem of her sweater and Miranda wanted nothing more than to walk over and take the younger woman into her arms. Somehow she knew, though, that it would be a bad idea. She could practically taste the tension in the air.
With a slight grimace the brunette walked past the conductor and off the stage to join her parents and Douglas, who were already waiting with her coat and bag. She watched as they walked up the aisle and her heart did a small leap as Andrea quickly turned and, unseen by her parents, blew her a kiss, before unhappily scampering through the door.
“Well, that was uncomfortable.” The pianist said with a grin as he gathered the remaining sheet music from the large instrument.
“Oh shut up Nigel,” Miranda scoffed as she leaned against the piano, rubbing her temples.
She certainly didn’t picture her first meeting with Andrea’s parents to go like this. Hell would likely feel like a spa treatment compared to Sunday brunch.
“Well, I gotta go. Don’t let yourself get intimidated by that woman.”
“Excuse me?” The conductor shot her friend a searing look. She never got intimidated by anyone.
Nigel just smiled, patted her shoulder and then climbed off the stage and with a final wave left the auditorium.
Miranda looked around the large, empty space and sighed. What a day... She studied the grand piano and then slowly walked around it, trailing her fingertips over the shiny, lacquered surface. With her customary elegance she lowered herself onto the padded bench and shuffled into the middle, gently brushing against the ebony and ivory keys before her.
As if by their own accord her fingers began to play. Tentatively at first and slowly reacquainting herself with the piece she hadn’t played in so long. She needed a moment of peace, a few minutes to let go off the strained rehearsal. Usually being in Andrea’s arms would do the trick, but the brunette was on her way to a probably rather unpleasant evening with her parents.
Closing her eyes Miranda allowed herself to float along with the cascading notes, the long ago perfected movements of her hands coming back to her without effort. The lively sound carrying her higher, away from the auditorium and into plains of simplicity and beauty. She swayed to the sudden tempest of the melody, throwing herself into the crescendo as it wandered up and then back again, until the melody calmed down and gently rounded to a humble, sluggish rhythm, before coming to a quiet halt.
“Chopin.”
The voice startled her and she quickly blinked her eyes open to stare into the positively glowing face of Andrea, perched on her elbows on the edge of the stage. Miranda stood and slowly walked toward the younger woman, taking the time to languidly move in a gait she knew would guarantee the brunette’s undivided attention.
“Andrea, what are you doing here? I thought you and your parents,” she stopped at the front of the stage, looking down at the younger woman who must have had a perfect view up her dress, “would be out discussing a few things by now.”
The journalist visibly swallowed and then reached out to caress the older woman’s pantyhose-clad ankles.
“I told them I had forgotten something. I couldn’t just leave you like that.” She gestured for Miranda to lower herself and offered a hand. “Come here.”
The conductor carefully knelt and then sat down at the edge, allowing her legs to dangle in front of Andrea who gently spread them as far as the skirt allowed and stepped in between. Miranda draped her arms around the younger woman’s neck and Andrea hugged her tightly around the middle, pulling them closer into the embrace.
In this position the conductor was slightly taller and she leaned her forehead on the brunette’s shoulder with a deep sigh. It had been less than two days and she had longed to be like this with her love so shockingly much that it nearly scared her. Miranda wasn’t sure she could live without Andrea. The thought was absurd and so unlike the strong and proud persona she usually pretended to be.
But it was the truth. And Nigel had been right. She did feel intimidated by Andrea’s mother. That woman probably wielded more power over the young journalist than anyone else in her life. What if Anne Sachs disapproved? What if she decided that her daughter could do so much better than a middle-aged conductor with a haunting past and a disabled teenage daughter?
Miranda wanted nothing more than to share her worries with the brunette, but voicing one’s fears made them real. She wondered if the younger woman was even aware of the situation.
“She knows, Andrea.”
The brunette tensed.
“Miranda, I swear I didn’t tell her anything. I have no idea what happened, but she’s already been acting strange all day.” She tightened her grip around the conductor and placed tender kisses on her cheek before slowly moving away.
“I should get back. I really need to talk to her. To both of them.”
Miranda turned her head and connected their lips in a quick, but thorough kiss. Before the resulting sweet burn in her abdomen could overwhelm her she removed her mouth and rested her forehead against Andrea’s.
“Go, Darling.”
“I will call you.”
The brunette leaned in for a final kiss and then reluctantly stepped backward, her hand gently holding on to the conductor’s until they were too far apart and their fingers separated, falling slack and defeated to their sides.
“Bye,” Andrea whispered with such an adorable expression that it caused Miranda’s heart to ache and made her wish she could just reach out and pull the younger woman back. She watched Andrea slip through the door for a second time that evening and after collecting herself she glided off the stage and retrieved her coat and bag from a front row chair.
She was about to walk toward the exit when she caught a movement from the corner of her eye. Abruptly swinging around she could only just make out a blur of red hair disappearing through the side door to the left of the stage.
-------
“Okay, I can’t take this anymore!” Andy growled and placed her arms flat on the table in frustration. “Mom, whatever your problem is, out with it.” Mrs. Sachs just blinked at her daughter and the journalist added a rather sarcastic, “Please.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Sweetie,” her mother answered, feigning disinterest and looking distractedly around ‘Mike’s Bar & Diner’. “This is a nice place.”
Andy took a deep breath and straightened herself. “Mom, please. You’re making me feel really bad. Just talk to me.”
The look Mrs. Sachs directed at her husband made him nod to Doug and the two men wordlessly slid from the booth and trotted toward the bar, leaving the brunette alone with her mother.
They regarded each other for a while and Andy became nervous. She chewed on her bottom lip and began to wobble her feet, shaking the entire table.
“Please stop that, Andrea.”
She tried not to cringe at the strange way her name sounded coming from her mother, who pronounced it in that pedestrian, typically North-American way. She gingerly stilled her movement and regarded the woman across from her.
Her mother could be considered rather common. She had nondescript, dark blond hair, narrow, but friendly features and her eyes were a shade slightly greener than Andy’s chocolate brown. There really wasn’t anything threatening about her at all. Why then was it, that Andy felt so utterly intimidated, so terrified of her mother’s opinion when it came to Miranda.
Andy knew that she would never leave the conductor, whether her mother approved or not. Nonetheless she had this nagging need for her mother’s approval. She remembered their phone conversation before Christmas, when her mother had said she would be okay with Andy dating girls, so how bad could her reaction possibly be?
And then the brunette remembered that Miranda wasn’t just a ‘girl’. She was a grown woman, only ten years younger than Mrs. Sachs, with a daughter of her own and she was richer than anyone in Andy’s family has ever been. It was clear to the journalist, that her mother must have somehow picked up on the connection between Miranda and her and had drawn her own conclusions.
“Mom,” Andy began again.
“You promised you’d tell us when you met someone,” came her mother’s quiet, accusing tone.
“Oh.” The journalist felt herself blush. They were really going to talk about this. Here and now.
“Uhm, well. We’ve only been together since Christmas, and it isn’t exactly phone conversation material,” she mumbled, gazing up at her mother with that pleading look that used to get her a second after-dinner cookie when she was little.
“So it appears,” Mrs. Sachs said a little sharply.
Andy felt a battle brewing in the pit of her stomach. She might have had trouble standing up to her mother when it came to her own life, but as soon as Anne Sachs as much as indirectly insulted a hair Miranda’s head, Andy knew she’d assume defensive positions immediately.
“Mom, I love her,” she said and her mother’s face transformed with shock. “I truly love her. She means the world to me.”
The other woman regarded her silently, studying her daughter as if seeing her truly for the first time.
“She may appear a bit strict, or icy at first, but she is an incredibly warm human being.”
Her mother remained visibly sceptical and Andy wondered whether Miranda would ever truly let her mother see that side of her. The way they had nearly killed each other with mere looks wasn’t exactly a sign of potential friendship.
“She protects herself by keeping a distance because she’s been through a lot.”
“Oh please. I’ve seen her clothes, Andrea. What problems could she have possibly encountered that couldn’t be solved with mon...”
Before she could finish, Andy had already risen from her seat and was leaning across the table, hovering above her mother with barely contained fury.
“Don’t... ever... talk about her like that again... ” she hissed through gritted teeth and waved a finger in the air, “... or I swear I will...”
Then suddenly she realised that she was threatening her own mother and the lost look on the other woman’s face truly startled her. Still shaking with emotions, eyes shining with tears, she sat back down and rested her gaze on the table surface in shame.
“Five years ago, one of her twin daughters died in a car crash...” Andy mumbled as hot tears fell from her cheeks. “The other girl, Caroline, has been practically paralysed from her waist down, and is only now making her very first steps again since the accident.” She sniffled and wiped at her face.
“Sweetie...” her mother tried, but Andy silenced her with a hurt look that said she wasn’t done yet.
“The girls’ father died as well. They had already been divorced, he was an alcoholic and the authorities said his drunk-driving caused the accident and Miranda was the one who had asked him to drive the twins home that night.”
She hiccuped and saw the deeply pained emotions raging across her mother’s features.
“You know what that means, right?”
Her mother nodded solemnly, tears now shimmering in her own eyes. “She blames herself...”
“Yes,” Andy confirmed a bit more subdued. “So, don’t ever talk about her like that again, Mom.”
Mrs. Sachs reached across the table and grasped both of her daughter’s hands. “I’m so sorry, Sweetie. I had no idea.”
The journalist felt her mother’s sincerity and she tightly curled her fingers around the other woman’s hand.
“She is... sort of a presence... and when I saw her walk in, floating like a goddess...” Andy’s lips twitched at her mother’s choice of words. “... well, I immediately felt threatened. When I told you that we’d be okay with you dating a girl, I really meant that. I guess I thought if you dated a girl your age, I’d somehow end up with a second daughter.”
There was a deeply rooted sorrow in her eyes and Andy wondered why she had never seen that side of her mother before. The woman had always been a strong, cheerful person who had made sure her daughter had everything she needed, most of all a loving, happy home. But now there was a melancholy drifting across her mother’s face that nagged at her.
“So this woman, barely younger than myself completely captures you... and I’m worried that instead of gaining a second daughter, I might actually lose you.”
“Mom...” Andy slid from her seat and moved around the table to sit beside her mother.
“Mom, look at me. I promise you’ll never lose me! And although Miranda’s parents are wonderful people, I’m sure she’d love to be your second daughter.”
Mrs. Sachs frowned. “You’ve met her parents?”
“Uhm yes,” Andy shifted uncomfortably. “At Christmas...”
Andy’s mother tilted her head and raised both her eyebrows. “What? I thought you’d only gotten together then?”
“Well, yes. Miranda felt like she needed her family’s approval at a chance of happiness with me,” the brunette explained.
Her mother appeared lost in thought for a while. “Hmmm.”
“So how did you figure it out anyway? You knew the whole time, didn’t you?” Andy probed.
“Well, your father and I have had our suspicions about your sexuality ever since you were in college. You couldn’t speak about anybody but that professor of yours.”
The brunette felt herself blush and tried to hide her face behind her palms as her mother simply smirked and continued.
“And when you then kept mentioning this new conductor of yours, during every single weekly phone call... well it was rather obvious. The last clue, of course was when I phoned the day before Paris. She was at the door and the way you panicked and mumbled to yourself, and the tone of your voice as you greeted her, it was enough confirmation for us to know that our little girl was in love.”
She gave a warm smile and gently rubbed her daughter’s shoulders.
“Of course then we had no idea who Miranda was and the two times we phoned you from Europe you seemed so distracted... distant. So naturally I began to worry. And then today when you picked us up from the airport... you were... you had changed.”
Andy raised her head in question. “Mom, I haven’t changed...”
“Oh yes you have. You’re glowing. You’re radiant with love and life, Sweetie. You’ve finally grown up. And I think I might have felt slightly jealous that another woman could impact you in such a profound way.”
The journalist became thoughtful. Had she really changed? Had she all of a sudden ‘grown up’? To her it didn’t feel that way, but then again, she did have trouble picturing herself without Miranda in her life. She couldn’t really remember the Andy before the conductor had entered the picture.
“Maybe you’re right, Mom.” She hugged the other woman with one arm. “I think I’ve finally found a purpose. A place where I truly belong. Miranda challenges me intellectually as well as emotionally. She listens to everything I have to say and she opens my eyes to new perspectives. I even think my writing has improved since I’ve started spending time with her. I don’t think any of that is bad.”
“I didn’t mean to imply that it was, Sweetie.”
Her mother leaned over to brush some remaining, smudged mascara from Andy’s cheeks and then straightened her back.
“Now, I think it’s best to ask the boys to come back. They’ve been anxiously watching us from the bar this entire time and your father did warn me to be ‘nice’ on the flight over.” She yawned and tried to hide it under a hand. “And we need to eat something and then go to sleep. It’s been a long day. It’s three in the morning in London now.”
“Ugh, of course! Sorry, Mom!” Andy quickly waved at Doug and her dad to come over and then held on to her mother’s hands one more.
“Thanks, Mom... For talking to me and being honest. I really wouldn’t have known what to do if you had made me chose between you and Miranda. I think that would have killed me. I’m sorry that I lashed out at you.”
“That’s alright, Sweetie,” Mrs. Sachs said softly as she padded her daughter’s hand. “I understand now how important she is to you.” She paused. “We will get to meet her properly, I hope?”
“Yes, of course. On Sunday. For brunch.”
“Good.” And with that she let go of Andy’s hand and smiled at her husband whose relief was practically shining off his face.
Andy grinned at Doug who wiped at his forehead in a typically over-dramatic motion and then settled back into the booth with a wide grin of his own.
-------
Miranda padded into her parent’s kitchen early on Saturday morning and sluggishly searched for a coffee mug.
“Can I be of assistance?” Came the slightly accented male voice from behind her.
“Oh. Good morning, Xavier.” She turned around to face the old cook. “I’m in need of coffee. Espresso, actually. Double shot.”
“I do remember the way you prefer your coffee, Mademoiselle Miranda. Please take a seat.”
The conductor still felt flattered by the designation. Xavier always insisted on calling her that, although she had outgrown her ‘mademoiselle’ days many years ago. It made her feel youthful and fresh, and maybe a tad ridiculous as well. She had tried to convince him to simply call her by her first name, but of course he wouldn’t have that.
“Thank you.”
She watched as the man deftly worked the coffee maker and just a few moments later she found herself cradling a large cup of searingly hot liquid.
“Would you also like some breakfast?”
Miranda considered this for a moment, because she had acquired the habit of skipping the first meal of the day, but before she could reply, a loud rumble from her stomach answered for her and she gave the cook a sheepish grin.
“Very well. Bacon, eggs, toast? Pancakes?” He raised an eyebrow at her and Miranda remembered how she had refined that very movement by studying him when she was little. She looked back at him blankly, knowing the correct answer but being too proud to admit that she was in desperate need of ‘comfort food’.
“Pancakes it is then,” Xavier said and turned toward the pantry. He knew her too well.
Many of her sleepless teenage nights had been spent with Xavier behind the stove and Miranda dangling her legs from the bar stool, chewing on waffles, french toast or his signature blueberry-banana pancakes. As she looked back the conductor was surprised that she had been such a skinny teen, despite the midnight carb-fests.
The cook worked in silence and allowed the silver-haired woman to order her thoughts. She had barely slept the previous night. Having left right after rehearsal it had still taken her half an hour longer to make her way through the traffic and she had arrived at South Hampton exhausted and anxious.
During the ride Andrea’s text message of ‘Everything is alright. Crisis averted. Brunch should be fine. Love you, -A.’ had considerably calmed her down, but she was still left with a bitter aftertaste of her first meeting with Mrs. Sachs. It had truly startled her and shaken her steady belief that Andrea would not leave her. The possibility of the younger woman choosing her own family over Miranda had crept up and wouldn’t let her rest.
And then there was Emily, who had witnessed their sweet little moment in the auditorium. Miranda wasn’t entirely sure how high on the catastrophic scale that would turn out to be, but it didn’t make her feel safe. At all. They should have been a lot more careful.
Who am I kidding? She sniffed. She knew that the need to feel Andrea then had been far too overwhelming and it would have been next to impossible to not reach out and wrap herself around the brunette.
Shaking her head she traced the blue flower pattern on her mug. Things could become difficult. There wasn’t a rule that stated she wasn’t allowed to date members of the choir, and technically she wasn’t even under the official employ of the community centre, because they didn’t pay her. Nonetheless it might still interfere with the already strained relationship with Irv and his desire to shut down the choir entirely and rent out the auditorium instead. If he didn’t see her fit to lead the group of singers he could just force her to leave.
Of course it didn’t help that two members of the choir had already disappeared, hopefully only temporarily, due to her relationship with the brunette. And as annoying as the redhead could be, she did have a strong voice that would be missed in the choir, and she also did a good job as an assistant, always making sure everyone received their copies of the sheet music on time. The conductor hoped that nobody else would abandon the choir because of Andrea and her.
She was jolted out of her musings by a large plate of delicious-smelling pancakes being shoved in front of her. She deeply inhaled the familiar scent and smiled at Xavier.
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” he replied courtly and then turned back to the stove to prepare a second batch.
As she took the first, delicate bites of her breakfast Miranda counted back and realised that she hadn’t enjoyed a plate of the cook’s pancakes in over seven years. The heavenly flavours did wonders to her mood and she felt herself perk up as she continued to dig into the carbs.
“Mom! You’re here already!” Caroline stood in the doorway, clutching the wall.
Miranda had to quickly swallow a bite and felt it heavily glide down her throat. “Well hello! I’m sorry that I didn’t wake you last night, Darling. I got in really late.” She took a large gulp of coffee and then smiled at her daughter.
The teenager beamed back and then slowly slid her socked feet over the floor while holding on to the wall at first, and then transferring over to the kitchen cabinets until she was behind Miranda and could reach over to pull herself across and toward the other bar stool.
“Good morning, Xavier,” she greeted the man as she pulled herself onto the chair and sat down.
The conductor felt her heart ache with joy at the amazing progress Caroline had achieved in such a short time. She was a little worried that the girl was overdoing it, but both her parents had reassured her that the therapist was very enthusiastic and had good hopes for Caroline.
“I see you ditched the crutches,” she gently cupped her daughter’s face and planted a kiss on top of the girl’s head.
“Yes! See, as long as I hold on to something, I’m good! Oh, thank you!” The teenager enthusiastically pulled at the plate Xavier brought over and began gobbling down pieces of pancake and fruit in earnest.
“And for outside,” she said half chewing, “the Doc says from next week on I can go with one crutch only. I’ve already been practicing.” Caroline glowed as she dug further into her food, and although Miranda was slightly annoyed at the smacking noises the girl made as she ate with an open mouth, she felt thoroughly happy and moved off her stool and stood behind her daughter, wrapping her into a tight hug.
“Mom! I can’t eat like this,” the girl giggled and Miranda just hugged her tighter and buried her face in her daughter’s hair. She poured all her love for both twins into the embrace and hoped that whatever peaceful haven Cassidy was at right now, she would be able to feel it.
-------
Andy rested the guitar bag against the bench and checked her watch. She had agreed to meet her parents back in this park in twenty minutes and she relaxed into the seat, enjoying the uncharacteristically warm January afternoon. The sun was low, but still radiated enough heat to allow the brunette to close her eyes and rest for a bit.
She had used some of her savings to buy a midnight blue Fender Stratocaster for Caroline’s birthday, and although there had been an insistent little voice, sounding incredibly a lot like her mother’s, telling her that spending so much money on the daughter of someone she had only been seeing for such a short time would be a bad idea, Andy felt confident that this would be the perfect gift for the teenager’s ‘sweet sixteen’.
The journalist basked in the sounds around her. A few defiant birds, taking on the New York winter, were proudly singing their last few tunes for the day as the sun set and a group of skaters rolled by on their boards. Andy smiled, and looked up into the sky as she felt a lightness settle over her that brought a serenity she could not recall ever sensing before.
Her cellphone rang, and caught in the peaceful moment she didn’t check the caller ID and just answered with a lazy ‘hey’.
“Girl, I’m not your woman. No need to put on that voice.”
“Lily!” Andy sat up straight and had the urge to somehow grab into the phone to make sure her friend didn’t hang up. “I’ve been trying to reach you for the past three days. Where have you been?”
“Well, I was... hiding,” her friend said hesitantly, as if, upon hearing the words out loud, she recognized how ridiculous they sounded.
“I missed you at rehearsal yesterday,” Andy said sincerely.
“Well, don’t worry. I’ll be there tomorrow. I feel a bit silly.” She paused and Andy felt bad because she knew that if she had been in Lily’s position she would have probably acted the same way and would have bolted as well.
“Lily, I’m sorry if we weirded you out. It’s not like we had planned to... you know...” Her friend uncomfortably cleared her throat on the other end of the line and Andy realised she should probably not go into any more detail. “Uhm... you know... any of that.”
“Well, girl, I am glad you’re finally getting some...” Andy burst out in giggles at that. “I just don’t think I want to witness it. Ever. Again.”
“Right. Gotcha,” the brunette flicked her index finger at the phone and then shook her head at herself and the gesture. “So, Lily. Are we cool?”
“Yes, girl. We’re cool. See you tomorrow?”
“Yes! Bye Lils.” Andy said with a smile.
“Bye, Andy. Oh, and make sure you two don’t traumatise anyone else.”
The journalist blushed and then snorted at the disconnected phone in her hand.
Life was looking up. Her mother had calmed down and promised to be nice to Miranda and her friend was back. Well, Nate was still gone but Andy’s anger at his outburst was still livid, and she decided she didn’t want to see him until he got an attitude makeover.
-------
Miranda knew it was probably madness and she was challenging the fates, but she simply couldn’t help herself. It was one in the morning and she had just driven all the way back from the Hamptons and now found herself on the steps to Andrea’s apartment building. She was aware that the brunette’s parents where sleeping in that very place, but she was aching to be with the younger woman, even just to hold her. There was no way she would survive another sleepless night.
She looked up at the darkened windows on the third floor and pulled out her cellphone, hoping that Andrea had it by her bed and not anywhere near her parents. She wrote a quick text.
I’m outside your building. -M.
She pushed ‘send’ and waited impatiently. Nothing seemed to change upstairs and no lights turned on, and she wondered if she should give up or write another message. The night was rather chilly - a result of the clear sky all day - and Miranda was glad she had brought Andrea’s striped scarf and she wrapped it around herself more tightly and carefully looked around at the less-than-stellar neighbourhood.
The brunette really shouldn’t be living here. What if one day something happened? She shook off the thought and was about to send another, rather annoyed message as the dirty glass panels in the front door lit up and she heard the sound of keys in the lock.
Andrea opened the door looking very sleepy in her baggy, blue bathrobe, and her hair was messy and it stuck up in random places. However Miranda ached so much for her that she didn’t care where they were and she lunged at the younger woman, nearly picking her from the floor as she hugged her tight and crushed their lips together.
Decidedly more awake now, Andrea pulled away with her signature sheepish grin, and closed the door behind them, while sneaking an arm around Miranda’s waist.
“Well, you certainly are my favourite nightly spook,” she whispered sweetly as she locked the door again and then turned to hug the older woman once more. “Come on, let’s go. But we need to be really, really quiet, because Mom and Dad are sleeping in the living room.” She gestured at Miranda’s heels. “You might need to take those off.”
Trying not to think of what exactly the stickiness under her silk stockings might be, Miranda picked up her Prada heels and followed the younger woman up the stairs.
“So, do you always lock the front door in this building?” she inquired in a hushed voice.
“Yes, we need to. Last year we had a lot of break-ins, so everyone in the building collectively decided to put up a curfew and we invested in better locks. Now you can’t get inside without making so much noise that it will wake the entire street.”
Miranda swallowed hard and decided that she would need to get Andrea out of here soon.
The younger woman led her toward her apartment and turned to make one final ‘hush’ gesture at the conductor. There was something oddly exciting about sneaking around in the middle of the night. The threat of Andrea’s parents waking up and catching them was rather thrilling, and Miranda felt her pulse speed up in excitement.
They slipped through the door and into darkness and the older woman had to fully trust Andrea to guide her by their joined hands. She held her breath as they tiptoed around unseen objects and finally entered what appeared to be the bedroom, because the brunette closed a door and then turned on a small bedside lamp.
They gazed at each other in the weak light, both grinning at their little adventure, and then Andrea stepped forward and slowly unwrapped the scarf from Miranda, taking her time and making sure her fingers brushed a sufficient amount of the conductor’s night-chilled skin.
“I missed you,” she breathed as she leaned in for a kiss that was very tender and careful, but every bit as exciting as their little tiptoe adventure through the building. Miranda had to suppress a moan as Andrea slowly unbuttoned her coat and slid warm arms underneath the heavy, layered velvet. It wasn’t rushed, but a quiet and gentle torture to have the younger woman touch her so sweetly.
It was probably a horrible idea to actually be doing this with Andrea’s parents outside the room, separated by just a thin plywood wall, but Miranda’s mind had trouble fighting her libido’s logic. They would just be quiet. They would see it as a challenge, as part of their little adventure.
She shivered as the coat was eased off her shoulders and slowly draped to the floor, guided by Andrea’s fingers. Soon lips found her throat and the brunette’s hands tugged at her belt. Miranda nearly lost herself in the sensations of the younger woman’s warm mouth on her, but soon need took over and it blindly guided her fingers to untie Andrea’s bathrobe.
The supple expanse of skin revealed by the mere sliver of a camisole caused Miranda to hum in pleasure and the brunette uttered a ‘Shht!’ which was followed by the most adorable giggle the conductor had ever heard. She quickly dove forward to press her face against Andrea’s slender neck and the brunette hurried her effort in undressing Miranda.
Finally, after a only a few more minutes of shushed giggles, hums of contentment and a pair of uncooperative thigh-highs, they finally snuggled into each other under Andrea’s cotton sheets. They weren’t silk or satin, but they smelled of Andrea and Miranda sighed happily as she pulled the brunette toward her in another languid kiss. She knew she wouldn’t be able to spend many more nights without the younger woman. This was where she belonged, and she wanted Andrea to be in her arms, as often as fate would allow.
Their pace gradually slowed, their lips brushing against each other lazily and without real purpose and Miranda was disappointed to find that the raging inferno of previous arousal had succumbed to her overwhelming exhaustion. She felt guilty and was about to sleepily apologise when the younger woman’s even breath sweetly caressed her face.
Miranda smiled and tenderly tucked Andrea’s head under her chin, pulling the sheet securely around them, and with a final kiss to the brunette’s temple, she allowed herself to drift off to a restful sleep.
To be continued...
Rating: PG-13 I think... yesh, it's surprising! :-O
Warning: Established character death. T__T
Pairing: Andy/Miranda
Length: 8300 words (this chapter)
Prompt: based on a prompt by amles80
Summary: A/U - Miranda is a choral director and Andy is a journalist who enjoys singing. Miranda has a painful past and Andy has to learn to believe in herself. Miranda is 47, Andy is 26 in this story.
Disclaimer: I don’t own The Devil Wears Prada.
Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9
A/N: Alright, I said it would take a while but somehow tonight I've had a writing attack and it just kept coming. So here it is! I'm a little tired so if you spot a lot of blatant mistakes, I'm very sorry. I might still edit them out later... sneaky as I am... ^_^;
Chapter 10
Miranda stood in her empty guest bedroom and intently studied the paint swatches in her hand. She had a natural eye for any area of design, and under normal circumstances she could have decorated this space in her sleep. However when it came to her daughter’s ever-changing tastes she was at a complete loss. Caroline would turn sixteen in just one week and Miranda had been under the illusion that giving the teenager her own room, and solidifying their plan of moving the girl back to New York, would prove to be an easy, and infallible gift.
She blankly stared at the different shades of blue, lilac and pink in her hands and sighed in defeat. There was only one person who could be of any help and the conductor wandered into her living room to reach for the phone. Before she could dial Andrea’s number, though, the device rang and after a shocked moment of glaring at it, the name on the caller ID sank in and she quickly picked up.
“Andrea,” she breathed, a youthful grin ghosting across her lips.
“Hey, beautiful lady,” the journalist said on the other end. They hadn’t seen each other since Thursday morning, and although Miranda had somehow managed to fall asleep by herself the previous night, she still felt her body immediately ache for the owner of that sweet voice.
“Your timing is impeccable, Andrea. I need your help with something.” She sat down on the sofa and leaned back into the soft cushions, reminded of the sensual moments they had previously shared in this very spot.
“Sure, what’s up?” The younger woman asked, sounding a bit distracted.
The conductor trailed her fingers over the armrest. “What colour would a teenager’s room need to be these days? You know, to pass as ‘acceptable’.”
“Huh?” Andrea seemed confused at the question, and Miranda heard a lot of background noise, as if the brunette were at a market, or a train station. “Oh! You mean for Caroline?”
“Yes, of course, Andrea. Why else would I pose such a question?” The older woman rolled her eyes but her heart was buzzing with enough warmth at speaking to her young love, that she could not be annoyed with the sluggish response.
“Well, I know she likes blue, just like her room at your parents’.”
“Hmmm.”
“Maybe just stick with that? I realise you want to offer her a new beginning, but maybe a few familiar things won’t do any harm?” Andrea had a point, the conductor knew that. And Caroline’s favourite colour had indeed always been blue. Cassidy had loved pink, and Caroline had always preferred shades of navy or cerulean.
“Excuse me, sir, you dropped this.” The younger woman spoke away from the phone and Miranda heard a muffled ‘thank you’ coming from a deep male voice in the background.
“Andrea, where are you? It sounds like a circus!” She was a tad displeased that the younger woman’s attention was not one hundred percent on her and on the topic of their conversation.
“Sorry, I’m at the airport. That’s why I phoned you.” Now Miranda could hear the faint echos of the intercom, announcing the delay of a flight from Los Angeles. Her throat constricted and her body tensed with slight panic.
“Andrea, where are you going?” That had come out a bit strangled.
“Relax, Miranda! I’m not going anywhere. I’m here to pick up my parents.”
The conductor allowed her muscles to loosen as she slowly exhaled.
“It’s really last-minute, but my Mom phoned me this morning, before their take-off in London. They changed their connecting flight for Cincinnati to Sunday. Apparently they wanted to spend time with me because we didn’t see each other during the holidays.”
“I suppose that makes sense.” Miranda absentmindedly rubbed the back of her neck.
“So, since we have choir tonight...”
The conductor interrupted her. “Andrea, I can’t allow you to skip rehearsal and then still give you the solo parts just because we’re in a relationship.”
“Miranda, I wasn’t going to skip! Geez!” The brunette sounded irritated and it wasn’t a sound Miranda liked very much. “I just wanted to see if it was okay for my parents to come watch. They’ve never actually seen me with the choir so they’d love to come by. I just wanted to ask... you know... to give you a heads-up.”
The older woman silently scolded herself for drawing the wrong conclusion too quickly.
“Andrea, I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright. I’m aware that you worry about your authoritative position. I told you yesterday that I would never consciously do anything to undermine that. I respect you too much.”
“I know, Darling. I’m just being unreasonable...” She closed her eyes and massaged her temples. “And insecure. I’m sorry.”
“Miranda, I love you, and I wouldn’t skip rehearsal for anything in the world. Not because of the potential solos, but because I’d get to see you, doing something you love. Something we both love.” Andrea sighed into the phone. “It’s something I cherish.”
The brunette’s words flooded through the phone and made themselves comfortable in the vast expanse of Miranda’s heart. She loved Andrea so much that she was worried she’d completely lose herself in the young woman, but at the same time she welcomed the sensation of being able to truly rely on someone. To be appreciated for who she was and what she held dear, and not be used in an attempt to get ahead.
“Darling, I love you. I’m sorry for being unpleasant.”
“I love you, too.” Andrea’s warm tone was back and the conductor smiled into the phone and for a few seconds they just revelled in the comfortable silence with only the busy flutter of airport noises in the background.
“Indigo.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“The colour for Caroline’s room. Make it indigo. That will go well with her band posters and it’s dark enough to be ‘cool’ for when her new Dalton friends come over,” the brunette explained.
“Hmmm. Yes, that sounds good, actually.” Miranda searched for the colour in her stack of swatches.
“Don’t sound so surprised! You did ask me for help, after all,” the journalist chuckled and Miranda enjoyed the happy sound.
“Oh, their plane just landed.”
The conductor heard the soft creaking of Andrea’s leather jacket, which caused an image of what the brunette must be wearing to dance in her mind. She usually wore turtlenecks with that jacket, in Miranda’s mind, a fashion crime, but somehow even the strangest combinations looked good on the brunette. Or maybe Andrea simply looked good in anything.
“Oh by the way, tonight, when I bring Mom and Dad, uhm... I don’t know yet how, or when I’m going to tell them about us. I want to test the waters first. I don’t think I can handle another ‘Nate’ incident...”
Miranda curled her free hand into a fist. “If that neanderthal shows his face tonight I will make sure he leaves as a soprano.”
Andrea’s soft giggle smoothed over the older woman’s tension and she unclenched her fingers.
“As spectacular as that may sound, Miranda, I don’t think my parents would take kindly to the woman in my life being a ‘glamazon’ who can castrate with a single glare.”
“That’s a shame.”
The brunette snorted, but then grew serious again. “So, you’d be alright if I just introduced you as our choral director and conductor tonight? As I said, maybe it’ll be comfortable and I can just tell them right away, but I don’t want to hurt your feelings if I have to lie.”
“Darling, just do what feels right.”
“Thank you. I will. I think in any case, I’d want you to meet us for brunch on Sunday. Will you be back from the Hamptons by then?”
“Yes, I can arrange that.”
“Great. Oh, there they are! I gotta go, Miranda. I will see you tonight.”
“Yes, see you tonight, Darling,” the older woman spoke softly and then hung up the phone.
Hmmm, meeting the parents, she thought and rose from the sofa to walk back into the guest room.
-------
Anticipation had her pulse running a marathon as Andy led her parents up the steps of the community centre. The afternoon had been filled with oddly pleasant travel reports on beautiful Europe, and although the young journalist had enjoyed hearing funny anecdotes of her father accidentally ordering goose liver when he had wanted steak or how they had taken the wrong ‘tube’ line in London, she had noted the complete absence of her mother’s usual prodding into the status of her love life.
It should have helped Andy relax, after all it had been the first time in years that her mother didn’t bug her about potential boyfriends or how much she dreamed of having grandchildren. However Andy had felt as if an invisible anxiety had been present in her mother’s features the entire time, much as if she hadn’t really wished to talk about the “Champs-Élysées”, but about something else entirely. That perceived threat of confrontation had propelled the journalist to leave the apartment a bit earlier and they were now waiting by the elevator a whole thirty minutes before rehearsal would begin.
Just as the cabin arrived Andy heard swift footsteps approaching and swirled around to see her friend Doug hurry to slip into the elevator with them.
“Dougie!” Andy wrapped him into a crushing hug and whispered, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He just smirked as they pulled away and then extended a hand to Andy’s mother.
“Mrs. Sachs, it’s a pleasure to see you again!”
“Douglas, I thought we agreed on you calling me ‘Anne’,” Andy’s mother chuckled pleasantly as she shook his hand.
“It’s nice to see you, too”
“Richard,” Doug said with a smirk as he turned to Andy’s father who greeted the young man with a friendly smile of his own.
The cabin arrived at their floor and they lazily walked down the hallway and into the empty auditorium.
“So you’re brave enough to come watch us rehearse?” Doug joked as they moved down the slope to the front row of seats.
Andy’s father patted his daughter’s shoulder and smirked. “We’ve heard great things about your Christmas concert, so we’re confident the rehearsal will prove to be pain-free at the very least.”
“Mom, Dad, you can sit in these chairs over here,” the journalist instructed while nervously keeping an eye on the doors. She had phoned Doug in a panicked need for moral support for when she would introduce Miranda, but now that the moment of truth had nearly arrived, she seriously considered running away. Something was up with her mother and her dad tried too hard to pretend that nothing at all was going on.
Her parents engaged Doug in a friendly conversation about their travels and Andy began tuning out their voices, straining her ears in alert for the slightest clicking of heels from the hallway.
Maybe she needed to wait until after rehearsal, or even until Sunday.
She fidgeted and longed for Miranda to finally get there. Despite being partially responsible for Andy’s apprehensive state, the older woman’s presence would make her feel a lot more at ease.
And then she heard the distinctive stride, and she held her breath when the door swung open and the conductor glided into the auditorium with long, confident steps. The open, moss-green velvet coat flowed back and framed her swaying hips perfectly. The knee-length, plain, black dress was one of the brunette’s favourites and an orange Hermès scarf did a sufficient job at covering that hickey the journalist knew she had left the previous morning. Andy fell in love all over again and for a tiny moment she forgot that her parents were right behind her.
Miranda’s gaze had found Andy’s mother the moment she had set foot through the door and as she came closer Andy could nearly taste the intense scrutiny crackling in the air. The older woman was clearly assessing the threat level and Andy glanced at Miranda pleadingly, attempting to silently convey the uncomfortable situation.
“Uhm, hi Miranda,” she said shyly once the conductor was in front of them. “These are my parents, Anne and Richard Sachs.” She gestured in their direction as they stood to greet Miranda. “Mom, Dad, this is our conductor and choral director, Miranda Priestly.”
To the brunette’s relief, the older woman must have read her mind because she greeted her parents in a polite but reserved manner, just as expected for meeting one of her singers’ family. Showing a slight interest but nothing that would give away that she was sleeping with their daughter.
“How do you do?” Miranda said courtly and Andy could have sworn she saw her mother twitch.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Priestly,” Andy’s father said politely as he shook her hand, while Andy nearly cringed at the designation.
“Please,” the conductor drawled, “call me ‘Miranda’.
Andy shivered. Now was definitely not the time to bring up, ‘oh by the way, she’s also my girlfriend’.
An uncomfortable silence crept around them, and the brunette felt that there was something very eerie about the way her mother looked at Miranda. If she didn’t know better, her mother was sizing up the conductor. It reminded Andy of two predators, slowly circling each other in the prelude of a fight to the death.
To her relief Doug interrupted. “Miranda, if you have a moment, there was something I wanted to ask you about a passage in the kyrie.”
“Of course,” the conductor gave him a polite smile that didn’t reach her eyes, shrugged out of her coat and then followed Doug onto the stage.
“So, that is your choral director,” Andy’s dad mumbled as all three of them watched Miranda walk to the grand piano and elegantly perch over the instrument to study the sheets of music Doug was pointing at.
“Uhm, yep,” was all the brunette could say.
-------
Throughout the entire rehearsal Miranda could feel a pair of dark eyes burn into the back of her head. She was certain that Andrea’s mother was ready to jump at her throat any minute now. Andrea had not given any indication that she had revealed their relationship, however, Miranda was was certain that Anne Sachs knew. The venomous look the conductor had received earlier hadn’t been the only indication. When they had shaken hands there had been a definite hostile vibe seeping from Anne’s entire body.
Andrea appeared to be a nervous wreck. She stood stiff as column, glancing between her mother and Miranda and there was barely any sound coming from the brunette at all. The conductor knew that had it been anyone else she would have coldly told them off in front of the entire choir, making a spectacle of their less than admirable effort. However, despite her earlier declaration of wishing to treat Andrea exactly like everyone else in the choir, all she could do was to put as much reassurance into her gaze as possible without actually retorting to smiling.
To her relief the rest of the choir was doing considerably better that they had on Wednesday. It seemed the singers had done their homework and although the scruffy bass boy and Andrea’s alto friend were absent, the overall sound the men and women produced was pleasant.
“Not bad,” she allowed as soon as the last few notes of the songs had ended. “Memorise your passage and my relevant hand gestures because on Sunday we will attempt to practice in mixed voice positions.” She let her gaze travel over the choir, registering the confusion at her sudden amiability and the mention of new techniques and then dismissed the singers with a simple “that’s all.”
As the men and women scattered off the stage into the rest of their Friday evening, Andrea remained frozen to her spot. Her fingers were frantically playing with the hem of her sweater and Miranda wanted nothing more than to walk over and take the younger woman into her arms. Somehow she knew, though, that it would be a bad idea. She could practically taste the tension in the air.
With a slight grimace the brunette walked past the conductor and off the stage to join her parents and Douglas, who were already waiting with her coat and bag. She watched as they walked up the aisle and her heart did a small leap as Andrea quickly turned and, unseen by her parents, blew her a kiss, before unhappily scampering through the door.
“Well, that was uncomfortable.” The pianist said with a grin as he gathered the remaining sheet music from the large instrument.
“Oh shut up Nigel,” Miranda scoffed as she leaned against the piano, rubbing her temples.
She certainly didn’t picture her first meeting with Andrea’s parents to go like this. Hell would likely feel like a spa treatment compared to Sunday brunch.
“Well, I gotta go. Don’t let yourself get intimidated by that woman.”
“Excuse me?” The conductor shot her friend a searing look. She never got intimidated by anyone.
Nigel just smiled, patted her shoulder and then climbed off the stage and with a final wave left the auditorium.
Miranda looked around the large, empty space and sighed. What a day... She studied the grand piano and then slowly walked around it, trailing her fingertips over the shiny, lacquered surface. With her customary elegance she lowered herself onto the padded bench and shuffled into the middle, gently brushing against the ebony and ivory keys before her.
As if by their own accord her fingers began to play. Tentatively at first and slowly reacquainting herself with the piece she hadn’t played in so long. She needed a moment of peace, a few minutes to let go off the strained rehearsal. Usually being in Andrea’s arms would do the trick, but the brunette was on her way to a probably rather unpleasant evening with her parents.
Closing her eyes Miranda allowed herself to float along with the cascading notes, the long ago perfected movements of her hands coming back to her without effort. The lively sound carrying her higher, away from the auditorium and into plains of simplicity and beauty. She swayed to the sudden tempest of the melody, throwing herself into the crescendo as it wandered up and then back again, until the melody calmed down and gently rounded to a humble, sluggish rhythm, before coming to a quiet halt.
“Chopin.”
The voice startled her and she quickly blinked her eyes open to stare into the positively glowing face of Andrea, perched on her elbows on the edge of the stage. Miranda stood and slowly walked toward the younger woman, taking the time to languidly move in a gait she knew would guarantee the brunette’s undivided attention.
“Andrea, what are you doing here? I thought you and your parents,” she stopped at the front of the stage, looking down at the younger woman who must have had a perfect view up her dress, “would be out discussing a few things by now.”
The journalist visibly swallowed and then reached out to caress the older woman’s pantyhose-clad ankles.
“I told them I had forgotten something. I couldn’t just leave you like that.” She gestured for Miranda to lower herself and offered a hand. “Come here.”
The conductor carefully knelt and then sat down at the edge, allowing her legs to dangle in front of Andrea who gently spread them as far as the skirt allowed and stepped in between. Miranda draped her arms around the younger woman’s neck and Andrea hugged her tightly around the middle, pulling them closer into the embrace.
In this position the conductor was slightly taller and she leaned her forehead on the brunette’s shoulder with a deep sigh. It had been less than two days and she had longed to be like this with her love so shockingly much that it nearly scared her. Miranda wasn’t sure she could live without Andrea. The thought was absurd and so unlike the strong and proud persona she usually pretended to be.
But it was the truth. And Nigel had been right. She did feel intimidated by Andrea’s mother. That woman probably wielded more power over the young journalist than anyone else in her life. What if Anne Sachs disapproved? What if she decided that her daughter could do so much better than a middle-aged conductor with a haunting past and a disabled teenage daughter?
Miranda wanted nothing more than to share her worries with the brunette, but voicing one’s fears made them real. She wondered if the younger woman was even aware of the situation.
“She knows, Andrea.”
The brunette tensed.
“Miranda, I swear I didn’t tell her anything. I have no idea what happened, but she’s already been acting strange all day.” She tightened her grip around the conductor and placed tender kisses on her cheek before slowly moving away.
“I should get back. I really need to talk to her. To both of them.”
Miranda turned her head and connected their lips in a quick, but thorough kiss. Before the resulting sweet burn in her abdomen could overwhelm her she removed her mouth and rested her forehead against Andrea’s.
“Go, Darling.”
“I will call you.”
The brunette leaned in for a final kiss and then reluctantly stepped backward, her hand gently holding on to the conductor’s until they were too far apart and their fingers separated, falling slack and defeated to their sides.
“Bye,” Andrea whispered with such an adorable expression that it caused Miranda’s heart to ache and made her wish she could just reach out and pull the younger woman back. She watched Andrea slip through the door for a second time that evening and after collecting herself she glided off the stage and retrieved her coat and bag from a front row chair.
She was about to walk toward the exit when she caught a movement from the corner of her eye. Abruptly swinging around she could only just make out a blur of red hair disappearing through the side door to the left of the stage.
-------
“Okay, I can’t take this anymore!” Andy growled and placed her arms flat on the table in frustration. “Mom, whatever your problem is, out with it.” Mrs. Sachs just blinked at her daughter and the journalist added a rather sarcastic, “Please.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Sweetie,” her mother answered, feigning disinterest and looking distractedly around ‘Mike’s Bar & Diner’. “This is a nice place.”
Andy took a deep breath and straightened herself. “Mom, please. You’re making me feel really bad. Just talk to me.”
The look Mrs. Sachs directed at her husband made him nod to Doug and the two men wordlessly slid from the booth and trotted toward the bar, leaving the brunette alone with her mother.
They regarded each other for a while and Andy became nervous. She chewed on her bottom lip and began to wobble her feet, shaking the entire table.
“Please stop that, Andrea.”
She tried not to cringe at the strange way her name sounded coming from her mother, who pronounced it in that pedestrian, typically North-American way. She gingerly stilled her movement and regarded the woman across from her.
Her mother could be considered rather common. She had nondescript, dark blond hair, narrow, but friendly features and her eyes were a shade slightly greener than Andy’s chocolate brown. There really wasn’t anything threatening about her at all. Why then was it, that Andy felt so utterly intimidated, so terrified of her mother’s opinion when it came to Miranda.
Andy knew that she would never leave the conductor, whether her mother approved or not. Nonetheless she had this nagging need for her mother’s approval. She remembered their phone conversation before Christmas, when her mother had said she would be okay with Andy dating girls, so how bad could her reaction possibly be?
And then the brunette remembered that Miranda wasn’t just a ‘girl’. She was a grown woman, only ten years younger than Mrs. Sachs, with a daughter of her own and she was richer than anyone in Andy’s family has ever been. It was clear to the journalist, that her mother must have somehow picked up on the connection between Miranda and her and had drawn her own conclusions.
“Mom,” Andy began again.
“You promised you’d tell us when you met someone,” came her mother’s quiet, accusing tone.
“Oh.” The journalist felt herself blush. They were really going to talk about this. Here and now.
“Uhm, well. We’ve only been together since Christmas, and it isn’t exactly phone conversation material,” she mumbled, gazing up at her mother with that pleading look that used to get her a second after-dinner cookie when she was little.
“So it appears,” Mrs. Sachs said a little sharply.
Andy felt a battle brewing in the pit of her stomach. She might have had trouble standing up to her mother when it came to her own life, but as soon as Anne Sachs as much as indirectly insulted a hair Miranda’s head, Andy knew she’d assume defensive positions immediately.
“Mom, I love her,” she said and her mother’s face transformed with shock. “I truly love her. She means the world to me.”
The other woman regarded her silently, studying her daughter as if seeing her truly for the first time.
“She may appear a bit strict, or icy at first, but she is an incredibly warm human being.”
Her mother remained visibly sceptical and Andy wondered whether Miranda would ever truly let her mother see that side of her. The way they had nearly killed each other with mere looks wasn’t exactly a sign of potential friendship.
“She protects herself by keeping a distance because she’s been through a lot.”
“Oh please. I’ve seen her clothes, Andrea. What problems could she have possibly encountered that couldn’t be solved with mon...”
Before she could finish, Andy had already risen from her seat and was leaning across the table, hovering above her mother with barely contained fury.
“Don’t... ever... talk about her like that again... ” she hissed through gritted teeth and waved a finger in the air, “... or I swear I will...”
Then suddenly she realised that she was threatening her own mother and the lost look on the other woman’s face truly startled her. Still shaking with emotions, eyes shining with tears, she sat back down and rested her gaze on the table surface in shame.
“Five years ago, one of her twin daughters died in a car crash...” Andy mumbled as hot tears fell from her cheeks. “The other girl, Caroline, has been practically paralysed from her waist down, and is only now making her very first steps again since the accident.” She sniffled and wiped at her face.
“Sweetie...” her mother tried, but Andy silenced her with a hurt look that said she wasn’t done yet.
“The girls’ father died as well. They had already been divorced, he was an alcoholic and the authorities said his drunk-driving caused the accident and Miranda was the one who had asked him to drive the twins home that night.”
She hiccuped and saw the deeply pained emotions raging across her mother’s features.
“You know what that means, right?”
Her mother nodded solemnly, tears now shimmering in her own eyes. “She blames herself...”
“Yes,” Andy confirmed a bit more subdued. “So, don’t ever talk about her like that again, Mom.”
Mrs. Sachs reached across the table and grasped both of her daughter’s hands. “I’m so sorry, Sweetie. I had no idea.”
The journalist felt her mother’s sincerity and she tightly curled her fingers around the other woman’s hand.
“She is... sort of a presence... and when I saw her walk in, floating like a goddess...” Andy’s lips twitched at her mother’s choice of words. “... well, I immediately felt threatened. When I told you that we’d be okay with you dating a girl, I really meant that. I guess I thought if you dated a girl your age, I’d somehow end up with a second daughter.”
There was a deeply rooted sorrow in her eyes and Andy wondered why she had never seen that side of her mother before. The woman had always been a strong, cheerful person who had made sure her daughter had everything she needed, most of all a loving, happy home. But now there was a melancholy drifting across her mother’s face that nagged at her.
“So this woman, barely younger than myself completely captures you... and I’m worried that instead of gaining a second daughter, I might actually lose you.”
“Mom...” Andy slid from her seat and moved around the table to sit beside her mother.
“Mom, look at me. I promise you’ll never lose me! And although Miranda’s parents are wonderful people, I’m sure she’d love to be your second daughter.”
Mrs. Sachs frowned. “You’ve met her parents?”
“Uhm yes,” Andy shifted uncomfortably. “At Christmas...”
Andy’s mother tilted her head and raised both her eyebrows. “What? I thought you’d only gotten together then?”
“Well, yes. Miranda felt like she needed her family’s approval at a chance of happiness with me,” the brunette explained.
Her mother appeared lost in thought for a while. “Hmmm.”
“So how did you figure it out anyway? You knew the whole time, didn’t you?” Andy probed.
“Well, your father and I have had our suspicions about your sexuality ever since you were in college. You couldn’t speak about anybody but that professor of yours.”
The brunette felt herself blush and tried to hide her face behind her palms as her mother simply smirked and continued.
“And when you then kept mentioning this new conductor of yours, during every single weekly phone call... well it was rather obvious. The last clue, of course was when I phoned the day before Paris. She was at the door and the way you panicked and mumbled to yourself, and the tone of your voice as you greeted her, it was enough confirmation for us to know that our little girl was in love.”
She gave a warm smile and gently rubbed her daughter’s shoulders.
“Of course then we had no idea who Miranda was and the two times we phoned you from Europe you seemed so distracted... distant. So naturally I began to worry. And then today when you picked us up from the airport... you were... you had changed.”
Andy raised her head in question. “Mom, I haven’t changed...”
“Oh yes you have. You’re glowing. You’re radiant with love and life, Sweetie. You’ve finally grown up. And I think I might have felt slightly jealous that another woman could impact you in such a profound way.”
The journalist became thoughtful. Had she really changed? Had she all of a sudden ‘grown up’? To her it didn’t feel that way, but then again, she did have trouble picturing herself without Miranda in her life. She couldn’t really remember the Andy before the conductor had entered the picture.
“Maybe you’re right, Mom.” She hugged the other woman with one arm. “I think I’ve finally found a purpose. A place where I truly belong. Miranda challenges me intellectually as well as emotionally. She listens to everything I have to say and she opens my eyes to new perspectives. I even think my writing has improved since I’ve started spending time with her. I don’t think any of that is bad.”
“I didn’t mean to imply that it was, Sweetie.”
Her mother leaned over to brush some remaining, smudged mascara from Andy’s cheeks and then straightened her back.
“Now, I think it’s best to ask the boys to come back. They’ve been anxiously watching us from the bar this entire time and your father did warn me to be ‘nice’ on the flight over.” She yawned and tried to hide it under a hand. “And we need to eat something and then go to sleep. It’s been a long day. It’s three in the morning in London now.”
“Ugh, of course! Sorry, Mom!” Andy quickly waved at Doug and her dad to come over and then held on to her mother’s hands one more.
“Thanks, Mom... For talking to me and being honest. I really wouldn’t have known what to do if you had made me chose between you and Miranda. I think that would have killed me. I’m sorry that I lashed out at you.”
“That’s alright, Sweetie,” Mrs. Sachs said softly as she padded her daughter’s hand. “I understand now how important she is to you.” She paused. “We will get to meet her properly, I hope?”
“Yes, of course. On Sunday. For brunch.”
“Good.” And with that she let go of Andy’s hand and smiled at her husband whose relief was practically shining off his face.
Andy grinned at Doug who wiped at his forehead in a typically over-dramatic motion and then settled back into the booth with a wide grin of his own.
-------
Miranda padded into her parent’s kitchen early on Saturday morning and sluggishly searched for a coffee mug.
“Can I be of assistance?” Came the slightly accented male voice from behind her.
“Oh. Good morning, Xavier.” She turned around to face the old cook. “I’m in need of coffee. Espresso, actually. Double shot.”
“I do remember the way you prefer your coffee, Mademoiselle Miranda. Please take a seat.”
The conductor still felt flattered by the designation. Xavier always insisted on calling her that, although she had outgrown her ‘mademoiselle’ days many years ago. It made her feel youthful and fresh, and maybe a tad ridiculous as well. She had tried to convince him to simply call her by her first name, but of course he wouldn’t have that.
“Thank you.”
She watched as the man deftly worked the coffee maker and just a few moments later she found herself cradling a large cup of searingly hot liquid.
“Would you also like some breakfast?”
Miranda considered this for a moment, because she had acquired the habit of skipping the first meal of the day, but before she could reply, a loud rumble from her stomach answered for her and she gave the cook a sheepish grin.
“Very well. Bacon, eggs, toast? Pancakes?” He raised an eyebrow at her and Miranda remembered how she had refined that very movement by studying him when she was little. She looked back at him blankly, knowing the correct answer but being too proud to admit that she was in desperate need of ‘comfort food’.
“Pancakes it is then,” Xavier said and turned toward the pantry. He knew her too well.
Many of her sleepless teenage nights had been spent with Xavier behind the stove and Miranda dangling her legs from the bar stool, chewing on waffles, french toast or his signature blueberry-banana pancakes. As she looked back the conductor was surprised that she had been such a skinny teen, despite the midnight carb-fests.
The cook worked in silence and allowed the silver-haired woman to order her thoughts. She had barely slept the previous night. Having left right after rehearsal it had still taken her half an hour longer to make her way through the traffic and she had arrived at South Hampton exhausted and anxious.
During the ride Andrea’s text message of ‘Everything is alright. Crisis averted. Brunch should be fine. Love you, -A.’ had considerably calmed her down, but she was still left with a bitter aftertaste of her first meeting with Mrs. Sachs. It had truly startled her and shaken her steady belief that Andrea would not leave her. The possibility of the younger woman choosing her own family over Miranda had crept up and wouldn’t let her rest.
And then there was Emily, who had witnessed their sweet little moment in the auditorium. Miranda wasn’t entirely sure how high on the catastrophic scale that would turn out to be, but it didn’t make her feel safe. At all. They should have been a lot more careful.
Who am I kidding? She sniffed. She knew that the need to feel Andrea then had been far too overwhelming and it would have been next to impossible to not reach out and wrap herself around the brunette.
Shaking her head she traced the blue flower pattern on her mug. Things could become difficult. There wasn’t a rule that stated she wasn’t allowed to date members of the choir, and technically she wasn’t even under the official employ of the community centre, because they didn’t pay her. Nonetheless it might still interfere with the already strained relationship with Irv and his desire to shut down the choir entirely and rent out the auditorium instead. If he didn’t see her fit to lead the group of singers he could just force her to leave.
Of course it didn’t help that two members of the choir had already disappeared, hopefully only temporarily, due to her relationship with the brunette. And as annoying as the redhead could be, she did have a strong voice that would be missed in the choir, and she also did a good job as an assistant, always making sure everyone received their copies of the sheet music on time. The conductor hoped that nobody else would abandon the choir because of Andrea and her.
She was jolted out of her musings by a large plate of delicious-smelling pancakes being shoved in front of her. She deeply inhaled the familiar scent and smiled at Xavier.
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” he replied courtly and then turned back to the stove to prepare a second batch.
As she took the first, delicate bites of her breakfast Miranda counted back and realised that she hadn’t enjoyed a plate of the cook’s pancakes in over seven years. The heavenly flavours did wonders to her mood and she felt herself perk up as she continued to dig into the carbs.
“Mom! You’re here already!” Caroline stood in the doorway, clutching the wall.
Miranda had to quickly swallow a bite and felt it heavily glide down her throat. “Well hello! I’m sorry that I didn’t wake you last night, Darling. I got in really late.” She took a large gulp of coffee and then smiled at her daughter.
The teenager beamed back and then slowly slid her socked feet over the floor while holding on to the wall at first, and then transferring over to the kitchen cabinets until she was behind Miranda and could reach over to pull herself across and toward the other bar stool.
“Good morning, Xavier,” she greeted the man as she pulled herself onto the chair and sat down.
The conductor felt her heart ache with joy at the amazing progress Caroline had achieved in such a short time. She was a little worried that the girl was overdoing it, but both her parents had reassured her that the therapist was very enthusiastic and had good hopes for Caroline.
“I see you ditched the crutches,” she gently cupped her daughter’s face and planted a kiss on top of the girl’s head.
“Yes! See, as long as I hold on to something, I’m good! Oh, thank you!” The teenager enthusiastically pulled at the plate Xavier brought over and began gobbling down pieces of pancake and fruit in earnest.
“And for outside,” she said half chewing, “the Doc says from next week on I can go with one crutch only. I’ve already been practicing.” Caroline glowed as she dug further into her food, and although Miranda was slightly annoyed at the smacking noises the girl made as she ate with an open mouth, she felt thoroughly happy and moved off her stool and stood behind her daughter, wrapping her into a tight hug.
“Mom! I can’t eat like this,” the girl giggled and Miranda just hugged her tighter and buried her face in her daughter’s hair. She poured all her love for both twins into the embrace and hoped that whatever peaceful haven Cassidy was at right now, she would be able to feel it.
-------
Andy rested the guitar bag against the bench and checked her watch. She had agreed to meet her parents back in this park in twenty minutes and she relaxed into the seat, enjoying the uncharacteristically warm January afternoon. The sun was low, but still radiated enough heat to allow the brunette to close her eyes and rest for a bit.
She had used some of her savings to buy a midnight blue Fender Stratocaster for Caroline’s birthday, and although there had been an insistent little voice, sounding incredibly a lot like her mother’s, telling her that spending so much money on the daughter of someone she had only been seeing for such a short time would be a bad idea, Andy felt confident that this would be the perfect gift for the teenager’s ‘sweet sixteen’.
The journalist basked in the sounds around her. A few defiant birds, taking on the New York winter, were proudly singing their last few tunes for the day as the sun set and a group of skaters rolled by on their boards. Andy smiled, and looked up into the sky as she felt a lightness settle over her that brought a serenity she could not recall ever sensing before.
Her cellphone rang, and caught in the peaceful moment she didn’t check the caller ID and just answered with a lazy ‘hey’.
“Girl, I’m not your woman. No need to put on that voice.”
“Lily!” Andy sat up straight and had the urge to somehow grab into the phone to make sure her friend didn’t hang up. “I’ve been trying to reach you for the past three days. Where have you been?”
“Well, I was... hiding,” her friend said hesitantly, as if, upon hearing the words out loud, she recognized how ridiculous they sounded.
“I missed you at rehearsal yesterday,” Andy said sincerely.
“Well, don’t worry. I’ll be there tomorrow. I feel a bit silly.” She paused and Andy felt bad because she knew that if she had been in Lily’s position she would have probably acted the same way and would have bolted as well.
“Lily, I’m sorry if we weirded you out. It’s not like we had planned to... you know...” Her friend uncomfortably cleared her throat on the other end of the line and Andy realised she should probably not go into any more detail. “Uhm... you know... any of that.”
“Well, girl, I am glad you’re finally getting some...” Andy burst out in giggles at that. “I just don’t think I want to witness it. Ever. Again.”
“Right. Gotcha,” the brunette flicked her index finger at the phone and then shook her head at herself and the gesture. “So, Lily. Are we cool?”
“Yes, girl. We’re cool. See you tomorrow?”
“Yes! Bye Lils.” Andy said with a smile.
“Bye, Andy. Oh, and make sure you two don’t traumatise anyone else.”
The journalist blushed and then snorted at the disconnected phone in her hand.
Life was looking up. Her mother had calmed down and promised to be nice to Miranda and her friend was back. Well, Nate was still gone but Andy’s anger at his outburst was still livid, and she decided she didn’t want to see him until he got an attitude makeover.
-------
Miranda knew it was probably madness and she was challenging the fates, but she simply couldn’t help herself. It was one in the morning and she had just driven all the way back from the Hamptons and now found herself on the steps to Andrea’s apartment building. She was aware that the brunette’s parents where sleeping in that very place, but she was aching to be with the younger woman, even just to hold her. There was no way she would survive another sleepless night.
She looked up at the darkened windows on the third floor and pulled out her cellphone, hoping that Andrea had it by her bed and not anywhere near her parents. She wrote a quick text.
I’m outside your building. -M.
She pushed ‘send’ and waited impatiently. Nothing seemed to change upstairs and no lights turned on, and she wondered if she should give up or write another message. The night was rather chilly - a result of the clear sky all day - and Miranda was glad she had brought Andrea’s striped scarf and she wrapped it around herself more tightly and carefully looked around at the less-than-stellar neighbourhood.
The brunette really shouldn’t be living here. What if one day something happened? She shook off the thought and was about to send another, rather annoyed message as the dirty glass panels in the front door lit up and she heard the sound of keys in the lock.
Andrea opened the door looking very sleepy in her baggy, blue bathrobe, and her hair was messy and it stuck up in random places. However Miranda ached so much for her that she didn’t care where they were and she lunged at the younger woman, nearly picking her from the floor as she hugged her tight and crushed their lips together.
Decidedly more awake now, Andrea pulled away with her signature sheepish grin, and closed the door behind them, while sneaking an arm around Miranda’s waist.
“Well, you certainly are my favourite nightly spook,” she whispered sweetly as she locked the door again and then turned to hug the older woman once more. “Come on, let’s go. But we need to be really, really quiet, because Mom and Dad are sleeping in the living room.” She gestured at Miranda’s heels. “You might need to take those off.”
Trying not to think of what exactly the stickiness under her silk stockings might be, Miranda picked up her Prada heels and followed the younger woman up the stairs.
“So, do you always lock the front door in this building?” she inquired in a hushed voice.
“Yes, we need to. Last year we had a lot of break-ins, so everyone in the building collectively decided to put up a curfew and we invested in better locks. Now you can’t get inside without making so much noise that it will wake the entire street.”
Miranda swallowed hard and decided that she would need to get Andrea out of here soon.
The younger woman led her toward her apartment and turned to make one final ‘hush’ gesture at the conductor. There was something oddly exciting about sneaking around in the middle of the night. The threat of Andrea’s parents waking up and catching them was rather thrilling, and Miranda felt her pulse speed up in excitement.
They slipped through the door and into darkness and the older woman had to fully trust Andrea to guide her by their joined hands. She held her breath as they tiptoed around unseen objects and finally entered what appeared to be the bedroom, because the brunette closed a door and then turned on a small bedside lamp.
They gazed at each other in the weak light, both grinning at their little adventure, and then Andrea stepped forward and slowly unwrapped the scarf from Miranda, taking her time and making sure her fingers brushed a sufficient amount of the conductor’s night-chilled skin.
“I missed you,” she breathed as she leaned in for a kiss that was very tender and careful, but every bit as exciting as their little tiptoe adventure through the building. Miranda had to suppress a moan as Andrea slowly unbuttoned her coat and slid warm arms underneath the heavy, layered velvet. It wasn’t rushed, but a quiet and gentle torture to have the younger woman touch her so sweetly.
It was probably a horrible idea to actually be doing this with Andrea’s parents outside the room, separated by just a thin plywood wall, but Miranda’s mind had trouble fighting her libido’s logic. They would just be quiet. They would see it as a challenge, as part of their little adventure.
She shivered as the coat was eased off her shoulders and slowly draped to the floor, guided by Andrea’s fingers. Soon lips found her throat and the brunette’s hands tugged at her belt. Miranda nearly lost herself in the sensations of the younger woman’s warm mouth on her, but soon need took over and it blindly guided her fingers to untie Andrea’s bathrobe.
The supple expanse of skin revealed by the mere sliver of a camisole caused Miranda to hum in pleasure and the brunette uttered a ‘Shht!’ which was followed by the most adorable giggle the conductor had ever heard. She quickly dove forward to press her face against Andrea’s slender neck and the brunette hurried her effort in undressing Miranda.
Finally, after a only a few more minutes of shushed giggles, hums of contentment and a pair of uncooperative thigh-highs, they finally snuggled into each other under Andrea’s cotton sheets. They weren’t silk or satin, but they smelled of Andrea and Miranda sighed happily as she pulled the brunette toward her in another languid kiss. She knew she wouldn’t be able to spend many more nights without the younger woman. This was where she belonged, and she wanted Andrea to be in her arms, as often as fate would allow.
Their pace gradually slowed, their lips brushing against each other lazily and without real purpose and Miranda was disappointed to find that the raging inferno of previous arousal had succumbed to her overwhelming exhaustion. She felt guilty and was about to sleepily apologise when the younger woman’s even breath sweetly caressed her face.
Miranda smiled and tenderly tucked Andrea’s head under her chin, pulling the sheet securely around them, and with a final kiss to the brunette’s temple, she allowed herself to drift off to a restful sleep.
To be continued...