Chapter 51: Drama Mamas
Author: TheLadyHoll
Pairing: Andy/Miranda
Rating: M
Disclaimer: Yes, they are mine. I own them. Come to me my pretties and dance, DANCE I SAY. Or, more truthfully, not...
I had a reviewer who posted that I write waay too much drama. Now I'm posting this chapter. Oops? Let me know if you think that reviewer was WRONG and you want the drama to keep coming. xo
The next morning saw both women cleaning up after breakfast in the kitchen, able to see out the kitchen clearly where the girls were playing, not taking any chances after yesterday’s debacle?
“Have I ever mentioned how cute you are pregnant?”
“We’ve had this discussion Andrea,” Miranda said darkly. “You are not to call me cute, or adorable or any other of the saccharine monikers you’ve assigned me outside of the bedroom.”
“Is that so? Well I…”
But the witty repartee stopped as the brunette disconnected her phone from the charging wire on the table where it had been all night.
“Miranda, have you checked your phone recently?”
Miranda looked at the young woman oddly for a second before she realized the only thing that could mean. What was the day? It was the 26th wasn’t it, no, damn, it was the 27th she had lost track of time. Being up here had made her lax and she didn’t even realize the sentencing was today.
Miranda’s hands gripped the countertop so tightly her knuckles had turned white, and her jaw was set as firmly as her gaze was out of the window, not at the room, or Andrea, but staunchly pinned to some invisible mark on the horizon.
“Guilty,” came the young woman’s whisper. And Miranda was down, not unconscious the younger woman was relieved to find but had seemingly simply collapsed to her knees on the floor, her gaze still frozen and not looking at Andrea.
Slowly, the younger woman got on her knees and approached the silent editor who had pressed her back to the wood and granite island and drawn her knees to her chest as best she could.
Andy was cautious in her approach, not knowing where the older woman’s mind was and not wanting to startle her. Gently, she started at Miranda’s ankle, running her hand up towards her knee before stopping there and rubbing the neutral spot gently as she spoke once more.
“Guilty - on all charges, but the sexual assault.” Andy’s voice was soft and carefully neutral as she waited for the other woman’s reaction before she added her own emotion to it.
“I wanted that bastard’s name on the offender’s list,” Miranda’s voice was hard but hoarse at the same time.
“Maybe,” Andy started to speak, trying to choose her words carefully. “Maybe it’s better for him not to be on the list.”
“What?” Now Miranda was at her full capacity for outrage and blue daggers plunged through to Andrea’s heart but she continued, desperate to make the older woman understand what she was saying and that it wasn’t a betrayal.
“Maybe it’s better for the babies that they never have to know just how horrible a man their father was. Imagine knowing that his name was on that list, questioning where they came from and if they were ever going to turn out like that. And what if when their schoolfriends found out. Children can be cruel, Miranda. I’m not saying that it’s fair, or that it’s what would be best for you. But maybe, overall it is for the best for our family.”
Andrea’s use of ‘our family’ stopped Miranda and cooled her temper enough to think slightly more clearly.
Miranda’s eyes were closed now, and her breathing was measured. “You’re likely correct,” she said, sounding almost normal, but then she flung herself sideways into Andrea’s arms who caught her as she pressed her face into Andrea’s chest almost like a child, terrible sobs heaving from her chest and tears soaking her hair and neck.
Andy wasn’t too proud to shed a few of her own as she buried her face in the soft, white hair, trying to hide her own strong emotions from Miranda as tear after tear slid from her eyes.
“It’s over,” she lifted her head and spoke hoarsely so that Miranda could hear her above her own sobs, which for only the second time, Andy had ever heard be anything but silent. “It’s over. My love, we won.”
If possible, Miranda cried even harder and Andy pressed her in tighter, rocking them back and forth until Miranda had finally cried herself out and was restingly quietly against Andy’s chest, one arm beneath her belly and the other intertwined with Andrea’s over her stomach which jumped as she hiccupped every so often.
Andy touched her lips gently to the corner of Miranda’s eye, where tears still clung to the delicately coloured lashes.
“You will never, EVER, have to worry about him for the rest of your life. He will never have a part in it again, nor your children’s.
Another hiccup.
“Do you want me to tell the girls?”
“No,” Miranda’s voice was stronger now, “We’ll tell them together. Help me up and then call them to the living room.”
Andy called the girls in from their games outside. They were about to protest when they saw their second mother’s face and heard something strange in her tone.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“Mom, are you okay?”
“Come here, darlings,” Miranda held out her arms and the twins went dutifully to her, each taking a side and tucking themselves in closely.
“What is it mom?” Cassidy was the first to speak up, and Caroline’s eyes simply kept shifting from one mother to the other.
“The trial came to a close today. Do you know what that means? It means the jury made a decision.”
“What? What was the decision?”
“They didn’t let him off did they?”
“We told the truth, we swear!”
Now it was Miranda’s turn to soothe them as her finger combed through auburn locks.
“We know you did,” Andy spoke up, her heart aching at the fear she saw in their daughter’s eyes.
Now it was Miranda’s turn to soothe her children. “The jury decided to convict, to say Stephen was guilty on two counts out of three.”
“What does that mean? What didn’t they believe”
“They couldn’t.” Miranda faltered slightly. “They couldn’t prove that Stephen…that he…” She looked to Andy for help.
“It means there wasn’t enough evidence to convict Stephen for the sexual assault.” Andy’s words were fairly blunt, but there wasn’t any other way to say it. And after all of this Andy thought it was important that the girls understood exactly what Stephen had been charged with and acquitted of. “It’s the hardest thing to prove, guys, because it’s just one person’s word against another.”
“But, but he did!” spluttered Cassidy, sitting up, outraged.
“Mom said she told the jury exactly what Stephen did to her,” Caroline’s voice broke through now, just as upset.
“I know, but because they weren’t there, the jury didn’t know whose story to believe. And even if they did believe your mom, there was no evidence to back it up. But we got him on two out of three counts, that’s 65 years in prison.
“That’s all?!” This time the two voices were in tandem and Miranda actually laughed, nearly causing Andy to cry in relief.
“Yes, my darlings. But if Stephen is 53…” she let her voice trail off and the two precocious redheads soon understood what she was saying.
“Then he’ll be 108 when he gets out!”
‘And I think the chances of him living that long are quite slim,” Miranda finished the thought, thinking of Stephen’s highly liquored lifestyle and his penchant for cigars.
“So he’s never getting out?” Cassidy untangled herself from the mass of Priestlys on the couch and walked over to Andy, sitting herself on the brunette’s lap now and looping her arms around her neck, looking worriedly up at her.
Andy drew the small body in closer and squeezed tightly, looking first at Cassidy and then the others as she answered, in as firm a voice possible. “No, he’s never getting out.”
Cassidy’s face screwed up again as though she were thinking hard and she spoke slowly and carefully as if scared by the answer or by her mothers’ reaction. “Is, is it still okay to love the babies even though they’re part of Stephen? I…I know Caro and me said we didn’t want the babies when we found out, but, but now I love them cuz they’re my brother and sister!” The little girl seemed to get more upset as she went on.
“Oh Cass, of course it is,” Andy started, but Miranda shook her head at the other woman and took the question.
She squeezed Caroline’s hands which still rested over her belly. “These babies are innocent of anything to do with their father. The only thing he contributed to them was his DNA, and it wasn’t his DNA that made him do the things he did. They won’t be anything like him, even if they look like him, because they will be raised in our family - that’s what matters. This family, and Andrea’s right when she says she, and I as well will do everything in our power to make sure you are safe and happy. I love these babies like I love you, and do you remember when I said I love you more than anything else in the world.”
“Yeah”
“Uh-huh”
“Well I meant that, and it applies to all of you. The people in this room at this moment are the most important people in my life, and genes have nothing to do with it. Do you understand?”
“And no one’s gonna try and take the babies away?” Caroline placed both of her hands over Miranda’s belly who covered them with her own.
“You watch them try,” came the brunette’s low growl of a response as she gazed at each member of her family in turn, thinking of how she would die for any one of them or to keep them safe.
She met Miranda’s eyes last and was overwhelmed once more by the love that flowed through them that she still couldn’t believe was directed at her.
Reassured now, Cassidy hopped off Andy’s lap and turned to face both women. “Okay, then can we try and make Oreo S’mores tonight? Caro and me found the recipe on Pinterest.”
“D’you think maybe you’d be able to rest here awhile while the girls and I go into town for supplies?.”
“Mmm,” Miranda replied, humming her agreement into the brunette’s lips as they met.
Leaving Miranda with her cell-phone, a book and a glass of ice-water to keep her hydrated, especially after all the crying of that afternoon, Andy kissed the just-dozing off editor before following the two eager redheads to the Tahoe.
But the peace didn’t last. And when Andrea tried to get Miranda to talk a little bit more about the verdict that night, Miranda fell silent in a way that led Andy to see that the older woman was lying about how she was affected. The older woman wore the veil of denial better than anyone else she knew and she could see it now. She knew Miranda with unmatched intensity and she saw the other woman’s pain in the way she breathed, the way she moved, quickly, jerkily with trembling hands as she tried to reach past Andrea for her book.
“You cannot just squash down your emotions when you’re pregnant. Everything that affects you affects the babies. Feel it, Miranda! Stop being a coward and feel it for god’s sake.”
Miranda turned around, fire blazing in her eyes, an emotion that hit Andy squarely in the chest seeing as most times in an argument she was faced with ice chips as Miranda eviscerated her verbally. But this was different. Miranda was different.
“Feel? You want me to feel, then fine. I feel fear, constantly, that something is going to go wrong with this pregnancy and we’ll lose them both. I feel the responsibility and the weight of knowing that 500 Elias-Clarke employees depend on me and my decisions for their livelihood and their jobs, and that at any moment, a verdict from Irv or the board that is based on those decisions could put every one of those jobs and livelihoods and families in jeopardy. I do not have the luxury of my feelings being relevant, or of them being a factor in my decisions. Sometimes pragmatism and practicality have to come first. I have two daughters who are suffering because of decisions I made when I was so bold and so foolish as to FEEL. I thought I felt love, I FELT for my daughters when I thought of them not having a father figure in their life and I have to FEEL their pain now knowing it as a consequence of my own actions and feelings. I feel lost, hopelessly lost in the knowledge that somehow you can claim to love me despite my faults and I feel guilt for not trusting completely in that knowledge when you have shown me and proved to me a thousand times over why I am so remarkably blessed to have you in my life, to have been given a second fragile chance at what could be happiness. I feel, Andrea, make no mistake. But in order for me to move forward, to take a breath that doesn’t feel as though it’s piercing my chest, to simply breathe I must choose not to feel. That is why I’ve come to where I am. That is what Miranda Priestly is made of, what she feels, and I cannot simply let that out into the open, my feelings are a flawed fragility in me that have the power to destroy everything I hold dear and as such they need to be locked away save for the rare occasions when they are drawn out into the light by those same things I hold dear or when those things are threatened and order and logic have failed me in all else. That, that, is what I feel. How much more would you ask of me?” She paused, closing her eyes for a moment. “Now if, if you would assist me back to bed, this outpouring of emotions you so desired has given me a headache and I don’t feel steady on my feet.” Her anger at the brunette was still evident in her tone which was carefully measured to be calm once more as she was forced to ask the younger woman’s help in a way that felt weak and degrading after their fight.
“Miranda, I have no right to tell you how to feel. I’m sorry. When I agreed to be your wife I promised not to try and change you, or control you. I can’t seem to help hurting you…”
“I certainly hope this speech is not leading to you trying to leave me Andrea.” Miranda’s tone was clipped, and Andy saw the quaver of a chin that she knew herself to be the cause of.
“I’m sorr - ”
“Did I ask for apologies? No. I simply asked to be helped to bed.”
Andy saw in the older woman’s face that she had put it behind her, and any more from Andrea would only exacerbate the tenuous situation.
“Yes, Miranda,” she replied with a clear voice and a blinding smile that as always, made the older woman’s heart skip a beat in a way that was very, very good for her.
“Come, Andrea, let’s go to bed.”
As Andy was turning down the covers on Miranda’s side of the bed her hand bumped against something hard between the bedframe and the bedside table, and when she reached in further she pulled out something large and rectangular that was unmistakeable to her well-trained fingertips.
She pulled out The Book and began to flip through it as Miranda finished in the bathroom.
She skimmed the pages with a practiced eye, and seeing the notes and tabs attached to the pages that indicated the edits Miranda wanted made, she instantly deduced what the older woman had been up to. She looked up as Miranda came out of the bathroom, not caring as she saw the pregnant woman’s lips purse slightly as she manhandled it.
“When did you have time to do this? I-I’ve been at your side pretty much the whole vacation.
“Not while you were sleeping, darling. You were so exhausted from looking after me and watching the girls so closely for the last half of the trip. You would wait until you thought I was asleep, and sometimes I was, but the babies wake me so frequently that when I got up I decided to use the rare time alone to look over the book.” Andy kept flipping through the pages faster and faster until she closed it with a bang. “You promised you would understand,” Miranda spoke in a low whisper, clenching and unclenching her hands until they looked red and raw. But she made no indication she was going to move from the bench towards Andy, who had spread herself across the entire queen-sized, wooden carved monolith that they two women had shared at one time.
“You’re right, Miranda. But I want you to know what I didn’t before, and that is how scared I am for you. It is really goddamned hard to be everyone’s favourite positive, perky Andy when every waking moment my eyes are searching for you and praying, and pleading with God that you are going to be alright. That’s all I want, Miranda,” Andy admitted brokenly, finally raising her head to meet Miranda’s eyes. “I just want you to be okay
“Andrea,” Miranda sat on the side of the bed and stroked through the other woman’s hair. “Just as I ask that you understand. I do not expect nor want you to be anyone but yourself. If you’re simply doing what you feel you need to to please me, then I haven’t done a very good job of reassuring you that I want you simply for you. Andy,” she used the rare moniker. “You, just as you are, are who I want to be my wife. I want no other.”
Andrea kissed Miranda deeply as she guided the woman’s head to the pillow, where she broke off an just drank in the beauty of the fine features beneath her, flushed and free of cosmetics.
“I am the luckiest woman in the world.”
“Yes,” Miranda murmured, quickly losing the fight to sleep as her eyes closed with exhaustion. “A million girls would kill for your job.”
Now ain’t that the truth.