Part 13
Dancing with the Devil
Telling her parents about Miranda had been as horrible as Andy had feared. Her parents had learned from their last falling out, however. They had swallowed their initial responses and asked to call back after they had processed the information that Andy had been dating Miranda for eight months.
Andy didn't hear from them for a week. She had begun to believe that Miranda would have Andy all to herself when her parents finally called to confirm their travel plans. The conversation was painfully brief.
"Are we to understand that we will be having dinner with that woman on your birthday?" Andy's father asked.
"Yes. Please don't make this hard, Dad." Andy pleaded.
"We'll see you next week."
Her parents had flown in this morning, and Andy is a wreck. She wants to continue to enjoy her birthday. It began so wonderfully. Miranda awakened her with kisses and flowers, breakfast in bed and passionate lovemaking. All the while Miranda made sure to tell Andrea how beautiful she is, how much Miranda adores her, how she loves waking up with Andy in her arms.
That is something Andy will never tire of—finding Miranda next to her in the morning. Although Andy does not always sleep at Miranda's house, she relishes the times they are together. Miranda has often offered to come over to Andy's apartment, but Andy finds she prefers Miranda's home. In many ways, Andy feels she is growing out of the apartment. It seems juvenile and empty, just a place for her to sleep.
When Miranda asked Andy to stay over the night before, the younger woman felt joy suffuse her. Andy knows she is staying over tonight, too, and she cannot help but feel grounded with that knowledge.
Not that it is helping her to calm down right now. Andy looks out the window once more before beginning to pace in the den. Miranda will be back soon to change before they leave to meet her parents. Andy had offered to pick them up, but her parents had declined. Andy still has no idea where they are going. Miranda's assistant related all the details to her parents, and Andy has not spoken to them other than to confirm they made it into the city safely.
Smoothing her hands over her black Donna Karan wrap dress, the younger woman takes deep breaths. This is going to be fine. Everyone will be painfully polite. They will chit-chat, eat, and leave. Andy will see her parents at some point tomorrow or the next day. Then they will fly back to their lives while Andy continues to be with Miranda. Simple.
Just as much as Andy is dreading this dinner, she is anticipating spending time with Miranda. It is becoming harder and harder to stay away even for a night. If she had her wish, Andy would move in with Miranda. Yet, Andy has promised herself to allow Miranda to set the pace of their relationship. So far, that strategy has yielded wonderful results. She intends to stick to what works. Miranda wanting to meet her parents, even knowing the hostility they feel, is a big step. Andy loves Miranda for not shying away.
Hearing high heels clicking against the hardwood floors, Andy moves toward Miranda. They meet in the hallway. "Hello, birthday girl," Miranda says as she wraps her arms around Andy's neck. Staring into Miranda's eyes, Andy begins to feel better. Miranda pulls her in for a gentle hug. One hand tangles through her hair while the other one makes soothing circles on her upper back. "Just remember that at the end of the evening you will be coming home with me."
"Do you promise?" Andy whispers. She doesn't understand why she is so afraid. Their relationship is solid.
Miranda pulls back to look into Andy's eyes. "I promise, Andrea. Nothing they say will change my feelings for you." Andy nods. She dissolves into a sweet kiss that is much too short before Miranda steps back. "I won't be long." She watches Miranda ascend the stairs with a sigh.
When they step out of the town car an hour later, Andy cannot help but lose her breath. They are in front of one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city. Andy had once mentioned it in passing to Miranda, teasing that even she would have a hard time getting a table. Miranda had responded that the chef was a hack, and anyway if she had any desire to dine there, which she emphatically did not, she would. "I thought you didn't want to eat here?" Andy says.
"But you do," Miranda answers with a twinkle in her eye. "Shall we?"
Once inside, Andy sees her parents standing off to the side. Walking over to them, Andy kisses both on the cheek, then steps back toward Miranda. "Mom, Dad, this is Miranda." Andy watches her father stick a hand out to shake hands. Miranda raises an eyebrow and leans in to deliver air kisses. She does the same to Andy's mother. "Right, shall we?" Andy extends her hand toward the maitre d' who is patiently waiting for them to follow. Andy indicates for her parents to precede her, feeling Miranda's hand on her lower back.
"I love you," Miranda whispers as she gently nudges Andy forward. Andy cannot help but smile.
After ordering champagne and appetizers, Miranda asks questions about her parents' trip, leading the conversation like a pro. It is easy for Andy to forget just how charming Miranda can be during social situations. Any time they are able to spend together they hoard jealously, choosing to not socialize or share those moments with anyone other than Miranda's daughters.
Andy has a feeling that they will be socializing more often, though. Some of her friends have questioned the increasing number of pictures showing up on Page Six. Now that Miranda has given her blessing, Andy wants to tell the world just how lucky she is to be with such an extraordinary woman.
"I see you have our daughter wrapped around your dainty finger," Andy's father says. Andy whips her head around to stare at him, unable to believe she heard him correctly.
"Dad!" Andy sputters. "What are you doing?"
"I'm guarding your interests. Someone has to. She's had you spinning your wheels since you first met her." Glaring at Miranda, he continues, "But you know that already, don't you? You probably think it's all fun and games to seduce a much younger person, someone who adores you. Does it make you feel powerful, Miranda?" The sneer on his face shocks Andy.
"Of course it does. She is magnificent in every way. I love seeing her blossom under my ministrations," Miranda says, all in a matter-of-fact voice, except for the last word. That word she massages with a suggestive lilt.
Did she just say that? Andy can't think. Looking toward Miranda, Andy says, "Miranda, please." Miranda dismisses her with a glance.
"How dare you! Do you know what you've put this family through?" Andy's mother breaks in, outrage clear in her voice.
"Nonsense. You chose to pass judgment on Andrea's heart. With one so young and idealistic, how could you expect her to listen to you?" Miranda scoffs.
"Now wait a minute," Andy exclaims. Miranda casts a baleful eye at Andy, clearly telling her to be quiet.
"She has continued to listen to her heart, and now she has tendered it into my care. You might want to respect that choice." Miranda sips her wine as if she has just finished discussing the weather.
"Don't you patronize us," Andy's father hisses. "She may not be able to see past your single-minded desire to possess her, but we can. She's not an object you can use and then throw away like your ex-husbands or last season's fashion line. She's our daughter, and she deserves better."
"Regardless of my intentions, it is her decision to make." Miranda turns to Andy. "Would you care to dance, Andrea?"
"Would I, would I care to dance?" Andy parrots, a bit dazed. "Um, yes." Andy's eyes widen at the imperious look she receives and rises quickly to take the proffered hand.
Once they reach the dance floor, Andy turns to Miranda and wordlessly accepts her left hand, placing her own on Miranda's shoulder. She feels Miranda's other hand rest on her back. Following Miranda's lead, Andy notices rather quickly how Miranda purposefully uses her hips to indicate their direction. Throughout the sensual dance, Miranda keeps her eyes locked on Andy's, pulling her closer by pure force of will. By the end of the first song, Miranda has Andy pinned to her intimately with her hand burning Andy's lower back, effectively holding her in place. Andy is a bit shocked by Miranda's behavior.
She sees something in Miranda's eyes, a flash of superiority? Triumph? Andy is having trouble grasping what's occurring. Searching those blue eyes, she recognizes the cold condescension she used to witness on a daily basis so many years ago. Andy doesn't understand. As they sway to the last vestiges of the song, she views her parents' faces. They seem upset as Miranda pulls Andy in even more and dips her head toward Andy's neck to kiss it. Andy shudders.
This display is so unlike Miranda. She has always acted cordial yet reserved when they have appeared in public. Andy feels her stomach churn. Is this affectionate display some type of power play on Miranda's part? A show to prove to Andy's parents that she can do whatever she wishes to Andy? She tries to pull back but feels Miranda push on her lower back to keep her in place. "Miranda?" Andy asks, confusion clearly conveyed through her voice.
"Andrea." Miranda kisses her neck again. Andy stiffens. Pulling her head back so she can peer into Miranda's eyes, she sees a gleam of satisfaction as Miranda stares at their table.
"Let's go sit down," Andy suggests.
"Not yet."
"I'm getting uncomfortable. Can't we, can't we just try to get through dinner?" Andy pleads.
"Andrea. Are you telling me that you don't want to dance with me?" Miranda's raised eyebrows and frosty voice warn Andy to deny that extremely farfetched suggestion.
"N-no. I love being in your arms. I just, it's just that, shouldn't we go back to the table soon?" Andy feels like a pawn in some silent chess game or the dubious prize of a strategic war of wills. Andy knows that her parents do not stand a chance.
She doesn't mind the fact that Miranda so obviously has set out to demonstrate her hold on Andy. It is how Miranda seems to enjoy flaunting such power and how she is taking it for granted that Andy doesn't like. "Come on, Miranda. You've proven your point."
"What point is that, Andrea?" Miranda asks mildly. Andy isn't fooled. But she's had enough.
"That I'm yours. I'm sure they've gotten it."
Miranda sniffs. "I have no idea what you are prattling on about." With that she lets go of Andy's back, running her hand over the younger woman's ass before walking toward the table regally. Andy trails behind her.
They sit in silence as Andy struggles with the situation. Her father seems to be grinding his teeth, and her mother's face is flushed with anger. Miranda sits serenely. "Um, so, how long will you be in town?" Andy asks nervously.
"Is that all you have to say, young lady?" her father demands.
"What, what do you mean?"
"How can you allow her to paw you like that in public? Do you have no shame? No self-worth? She's treating you like her personal plaything, and you're letting her!" Her father's voice is becoming increasingly louder as he vents his frustration.
"She is my plaything," Miranda says haughtily.
Andy begins shaking. "That's enough. I've had enough. I am no one's plaything." Seeing the doubt in her parents' eyes and the smirk on Miranda's face, Andy rises. "Stop baiting them, Miranda." Miranda merely lifts an eyebrow. Not able to take any more, Andy announces, "I'm leaving."
"Sit down, Andrea. Stop making a scene." Miranda's voice is so condescending that Andy feels as if she's been slapped.
Andy looks at Miranda as if she's never seen her before. Or perhaps she just hasn't been seeing her clearly for the last eight months. This is the Miranda she used to know. The one she feared and admired, loved and hated. Shaking her head as tears fill her eyes, Andy picks up her purse. "You three are supposedly the ones who love me the most. If this is how you show your love, I don't want it."
Letting herself into her apartment, Andy tries to see through her tears. How did such a wonderful day end so horribly? She doesn't know whether she has broken up with Miranda, but at the very least it feels as if her rose-colored glasses have shattered. Andy had forgotten how calculating Miranda can be. And how callous. It was one of the reasons she had left Runway in the first place. How could she forget?
Shucking off her dress, Andy curls into a ball in the middle of her bed and begins to cry in earnest. Happy birthday to me. Bereft, Andy's mind keeps rerunning the night's events. Sniffling, she finally falls into a restless sleep.
Fingers running through her hair awaken Andy. Blinking her eyes several times, Andy stares through the darkness, her eyes latching onto the white of Miranda's eyes and hair as the moonlight hits them. "Andrea," Miranda murmurs. Andy strains to interpret Miranda's emotions. Her voice reflects regret and sorrow. Andy cannot reconcile those emotions with Miranda's earlier behavior.
"Why are you here?" Andy asks as she sits up.
"After you left, your parents and I had a nice chat." Miranda tilts her head, purses her lips and looks away. "They were upset with the way you departed and my role in it." Andy hears Miranda sigh and feels her brows knit. Watching Miranda closely, she senses how uncomfortable she feels.
"I apologized for my behavior. You were right. I was provoking them." Andy gasps. She doesn't know what to say. "We have come to a type of understanding. We have agreed that you will visit them for Thanksgiving and Easter, but that you will remain here for Christmas, New Year's and your birthday. They are welcome to visit during those times, and they have graciously invited me and the girls on your excursions."
"Wait. You worked out a holiday visitation schedule?" Andy is having a hard time keeping up. Plus, this doesn't resolve how Miranda behaved toward Andy, does it?
"I suppose that is an apt description."
"Don't I have a say in this? I'm not a little girl to be fought over in a custody battle, Miranda!"
"No, no. You are certainly not that." Miranda moves closer to Andy, taking a hand into hers. "I became caught up in proving to your parents that you are mine, that they have no bearing on your feelings toward me." Andy tries not to become distracted by a thumb brushing lightly over the top of her hand. It's hard. "When I watched you walk away from me, I realized how tenuous this relationship truly is and how few assurances you have provided." Andy watches as Miranda's mouth tightens into a straight line.
"Me? I—how can you doubt my feelings?"
"You don't talk to me when you are unhappy or upset. I am constantly having to guess what is occurring in that little head of yours." Miranda sighs. "It's true you've gotten better, but you need to be a part of this relationship, Andrea. I need you to act like my equal. You need to believe you are."
Andy stares at Miranda. "I'm sorry, Miranda. I just always figured that you knew, that you know how much I love you, how much I need you. The rest—" Andy waves a hand, feeling helpless to explain. "It's much more important to me that you're happy. I don't ever want to do anything to jeopardize that." Andy looks down at the bedspread. "I don't want you to doubt me, to doubt us. I want you to trust me. I'll do better."
"Me, too. I did treat you like a possession tonight." Miranda lifts Andy's hand and kisses the back of it. "For that I am sorry. You deserve better."
"What, how did you get my parents to calm down?" Andy asks. Miranda smiles mysteriously. "That is a story for another time."
Miranda runs the back of her fingers over one of Andy's cheeks. "Were you crying?"
"I thought I'd lost you," Andy mumbles, looking away. Maybe she is young and foolish. Throughout tonight's display, Andy had begun to wonder about Miranda's feelings. She'd questioned whether her parents were right and that this was just some type of game for Miranda. "I was afraid that you didn't really care for me."
Gentle fingers lift Andy's chin so she can gaze into watery blue eyes. "That couldn't be further from the truth. I've tried so hard to show you how I truly feel, but sometimes when I feel threatened I resort to acting as I do at Runway. I feel more in my element. It is clear your parents love you. I was afraid they would convince you that I am not good enough for you."
"They couldn't do that!"
"Couldn't they?" Miranda's sad smile twists at Andy's heart. "They'd be right. I proved that tonight."
"Why is it so hard for you to believe that I love you?" Andy doesn't know how to break through Miranda's insecurities. She shakes her head. "Miranda, I know how I feel. I may seem naïve or inexperienced, but it's not true. Jesus! What do I have to do?" Andy looks out her window, not seeing anything. Her attention is redirected to Miranda when she hears her answer.
"Move in with me."
"What?" Andy peers into Miranda's eyes, wondering whether her mind is playing tricks on her. "Did you say move in with you?" Miranda merely nods. "Are you sure? You're not just saying that because of what happened tonight are you? We don't have to—"
"Andrea Sachs, do you or do you not want to live with me?"
"I do! I just, why would you want to live with me?" Andy barely hears Miranda's laughter as she is pulled into a fierce hug.
"You silly, silly girl! Why?" Miranda pulls back to stare at her. "Because I love you, and I need you with me every day." Andy feels hungry lips devour hers. When her mouth is released, Miranda says, "Well?"
"Yes. Yes, I want to be with you."
"Good. Come home with me, Andrea." Shiny eyes stare into hers, urging Andy to agree. As if there is any doubt.
"Okay."
And it's as simple as that.