Chapter Twenty-One
When Andy wakes up, at first she's not quite sure where the hell she's at, or if she's truly awake at all. First: the room is pitch-black and it feels early. Too early. Second: this is not her bed, that's for sure, and this is definitely not her pillow. At least she's in a bed. That's something to get excited about since Andy has woken up on the floor one too many times recently. And the pillow isn't so bad. In fact, it smells just like… Oh.
She's in Miranda's bed.
Reaching with her left hand, Andy feels around in the darkness and realizes that Caroline and Cassidy aren't there. She's not sure if they have a stockpile of cereal to go through downstairs or if Cara is already here making them something uber-healthy for breakfast, but whatever they're doing—they are not in this bed and right now, that's a blessing.
"They're downstairs," Miranda says before Andy can even move closer like she was about to.
"What time is it?" Andy asks, mid-yawn, and scoots toward Miranda.
"Nearly four-thirty." Miranda says this like she can't believe it herself. "Cara got here just a while ago. They heard her come in…"
The way Miranda's voice trails off at the end, tells Andy that it scared them. All of them. Now that they're home (even though Andy is here), sleeping through even the slightest noise is impossible. There's no way she's going to confront Miranda about it, though, so she chooses to pull her by the hand.
"Come here." Andy says, tugging at Miranda.
Miranda pulls back, causing Andy's heart to sink just a little. Everything can't always go her way, right? Honestly, going back and forth with Miranda's reaction on the invasion of personal space might be something Andy's got to get used to. Then again, as usual, Andy is wrong. Maybe she should stop jumping ahead to the worst where Miranda's feelings toward her are concerned? Yeah, that'd probably be a good idea. Starting today.
"No," Miranda says as Andy pulls at her one more time, just for the sake of trying again. She sounds too serious for such an early morning. Then, in the blink of an eye, all Miranda's seriousness turns into hesitation. "I want to try," she says. "I just want to…try…"
Miranda pauses to huff in frustration and it's hard for Andy to allow her to finish, but she manages it, knowing Miranda simply needs time to figure out how to say whatever it she wants to say.
Eventually, Miranda gives up on herself and simply says, "Will you just come here, please."
A split second later, Andy realizes what it is that Miranda is so frustrated about—yet so eager to try. She wants to hold Andy and that's not only a small step for her, it's a giant leap, too. Who can imagine Miranda holding anybody like this but her kids? Until very, very recently, not even Andy could picture that.
"I'm doing this wrong, aren't I?" Miranda asks as Andy settles into her arms. She's full of tension, that's easily felt, but Andy's confident that'll go away in about two seconds.
With an arm slung across Miranda's stomach, Andy hugs her. "There's never going to be a wrong way for you to hold me, Miranda. Relax, okay?"
She does, but it takes longer than the two seconds Andy was hoping for. "I've never done this before," Miranda says, as a little of tension falls away. "So I just wanted to make sure…"
"Miranda," Andy sighs, "Relax. Please, relax. I'll say, your uncertainty is really cute, though."
And that is the dumbest thing she could ever say. Your uncertainty is really cute? What the hell… Miranda will dump her on the floor in seconds, no doubt.
Ending up on the floor is not what happens though. Ironically enough, Miranda takes her advice and Andy feels arms encircle her tightly as the body beneath hers sinks into the bed. "This is what I wanted Friday night," Miranda says, kissing Andy's forehead. "I'm insane… But this is what I wanted."
"You're not insane, " Andy laughs. "But just how in the heck did you plan on managing that? If you don't mind me asking." Because really, how did Miranda think that was supposed to work? And hello… This is all the confirmation Andy needs. Miranda was not talking about her guest bedroom when she called Andy on Saturday morning. Definitely not.
"I have no idea," Miranda replies, sounding annoyed.
"So you just thought I'd jump into bed with you?" Andy asks, not about to let Miranda's annoyance to stop her from getting an answer.
"No." Miranda says slowly, drawing it out in that soft, lethal way that usually inspires fear. Except being in Miranda's bed…nope, it doesn't inspire fear at all. It just turns Andy on. "I thought you'd either pass out, or run, actually," Miranda finishes.
Sadly, Andy's got to admit Miranda's correct on both counts. "I probably would have done both those things," she whispers in Miranda's ear and can't miss the slight shiver that runs through both of them. "I never… I never allowed myself to think about you like that, Miranda. Until Saturday, when you called. I ran into a crate of oranges, you know."
"You never told me that. And as I said before, that wasn't…right. To imply. Over the phone. It wasn't what I…"
"Uh, yeah it was," Andy interrupts. "Sorry to tell you, but it was. I already told you that it didn't come out wrong. I told you that."
"It took me a long time to figure it out," Miranda says, sort of changing the subject. Or maybe not. "But then it wouldn't go away. And you…wouldn't go away."
Something freezes inside Andy as Miranda says those words. You wouldn't go away. The truth is right on the tip of Andy's tongue. She almost did. She thought about it, and hard too. She thought about running. She thought about dumping her cellphone in that fountain and never turning back. Andy decided to stay though, making the better choice, thank God. Otherwise, she wouldn't be in Miranda's arms right now. But even so, she thought about it. And Miranda doesn't know.
Well, she can't tell her. Andy knows that right away. Even if she should, she can't do it. Not today at least. Not here in this bed.
To turn the topic back toward anything that doesn't have to do with her possible cowardice, Andy decides to tell Miranda she's doing a great job at all this 'holding' business.
"This feels really nice. Don't you think? I'm very comfortable."
"I do. I am." Miranda clears her throat. "Thank you."
"For what?" Andy asks, perplexed. Did Miranda think she'd have said no earlier?
"For staying the night. For this…letting me try. For a lot of things, Andrea."
All this thankfulness from Miranda only does one thing: It makes Andy insanely brave and stupid. Since that's the case, she says, "Well, you can try anything you want," with big smile on her face that Miranda can't even see.
Apparently, Andy's been so brave and stupid that Miranda can't find enough words to string together for a comment. She can move though, and does, rolling Andy onto her back in a split second. Gasping in surprise and laughing hysterically (but quietly) she tries to push Miranda back, which doesn't work.
"As I recall," Miranda whispers, "It was you that wanted to have your way with me on the kitchen floor. Was it not?"
"Oh, that was me," Andy says, feeling like she's burning up when her hands instinctively find their way to Miranda's hips, and when Miranda's right knee finds its way between Andy's legs, it just gets worse. "Yeah." Andy swallows hard; the bed must be on fire. "Kitchen floor. That was me."
Miranda hums and even though Andy can't see her (there's got to be blackout curtains in here) she imagines Miranda's eyes are a bit darker now. Come to think of it, Miranda's eyes have always turned a shade or two darker when she looks at Andy for more than a few seconds at a time.
"You say you never allowed yourself to think of me like that, until Saturday?"
"Yeah." Andy swallows hard against a moan.
"Well, I've been thinking about you like that for quite a while." She pauses and Andy starts to say something about how 'that's nice' or something, but is cut off. "Andrea," Miranda says, running a hand down Andy's side. "Holding you might have been a mistake this morning. Because now I want more. I've always wanted more. Even Friday night, holding you wasn't all I wanted."
"That doesn't really sound like a mistake to me because I want more." Andy says and without a second thought, she chooses to do something that isn't practical or even right; dangerous is all this is. Giving Miranda what she wanted on Friday night, right now, so early in their relationship is just dangerous.
But Andy doesn't care.
Miranda is so distracted by what Andy's said that it's hardly any work to push back enough so she can sit up.
"What are you…" Miranda tries to ask, but shuts up as soon as Andy rips her own t-shirt off. And no, she doesn't have anything on underneath.
Andy never tells Miranda what she's doing. Andy never asks Miranda if this is what she wants, either, since she knows that it is. Asking is a waste of time and Andy can't wait or worry about how fast is too fast or if they're jumping ten levels ahead (duh, they are). In fact, judging by the fact she's prepared to testify in court that she can hear Miranda's heartbeat, and by the way Miranda is clawing at Andy's boxers all of the sudden, moving too fast and jumping levels doesn't seem to be a concern for either one of them.
Once Miranda frees her of her boxers and is kissing her hard, like she can't kiss her hard enough, Andy realizes just how long she's been denying herself these kinds of thoughts…images. Well, that's all over now. But as far as images go… The room is completely dark. She can't see a thing. But she can feel, and that's more than enough. It heightens everything, really, causing Andy's imagination to run wild trying to combine how Miranda's hands feel (they burn and sooth her skin at the same time) and what this looks like. Them. Together in bed. Doing this.
As the saying goes: If this is wrong, then she doesn't want to be right.
Surprisingly, Andy can't make the slightest sound when Miranda starts to slide in and out of her, almost immediately, like she'll find Andy's soul if she tries hard enough. She wants to scream but it just gets swallowed up in complete wonder at what is happening. She can only let her movements convey what her voice cannot, digging into Miranda's back with her nails (if Andy could only think clearly enough to get Miranda's shirt off); digging into the bed with her heels to gain a little momentum as she becomes a wave of emotion and pleasure that can only be controlled by Miranda; not holding anything back, letting Miranda have whatever she commands. She has the right, after all. Miranda's had all the rights, all along, and didn't even know.
Miranda, on the other hand, buries her face in Andy's neck and into the pillow at times to keep from letting any noise escape. And she' holding back. It's hard to believe, but even though her senses are positively overloaded, Andy can tell Miranda is holding back. Maybe it's because this is yet another step, a veritable leap, for Miranda into an unknown place she never thought she could go. Or maybe it's because Miranda just doesn't want to actually tear Andy apart; that would certainly fit the situation since she's so close to it anyway. Andy's heart is pounding in her ears; she's never been this open yet filled at the same time; she's never been wanted, fucked, not to mention loved like this and this isn't all she could be, because Miranda is holding back.
The idea that Miranda will likely be a wild and untamed predator when the chance arrives, takes hold in Andy's mind as she clutches at Miranda's shoulders and back and runs her hands through Miranda's hair all at once.
This wave of emotion and pleasure that is now Andy, reaches a new height when Miranda (still in a complete yet restrained frenzy) curls her hand just enough to add another finger. The fourth… All the air leaves Andy's lungs and Miranda finally allows a sound to be made, a hissing sound as Andy's nails dig into her back again. And then…
"Oh, my God," Miranda groans, her mouth moving over Andy's skin. Her face, neck, and now her breasts. How she's managing it, Andy doesn't know because they're pressed so, so tightly together; but Miranda's definitely managing to devour her not just with her hand (that's moving at a slower, more glacial pace now), but with her mouth. She's crying too, quiet tears, becoming a wave of emotion; Andy can feel them on her chest. They burn and sooth at the same time, like Miranda's hands, and not just her skin, but every part of Andy. She might be physically holding back, but Miranda isn't holding back emotionally.
That's more important than anything else.
When Miranda lays her head down, pressing her face into the center of Andy's chest, something unexpected happens. She's always heard of the concept 'just when I thought I couldn't love you more', but never experienced it. Granted, it is incredibly early in their relationship, but this still takes her by surprise because that's exactly how Andy feels right now. Such a simple gesture…and it's like everything has been elevated between them once again. In an instant, her love for Miranda shatters and grows into something else entirely.
Cradling Miranda's head in her arms, Andy has to nearly bite her bottom lip off as she comes. It's slow but so hard; she feels every bit of Miranda's hand inside her and it's got to hurt. Or, from the sound Miranda makes against Andy's chest, it feels too damn good for Miranda to care about any pain that might accompany it. And it doesn't stop, lingering on and on…and then Miranda slides her fingers out…and back in…
She's not sure how it's even possible, but Andy comes harder now than the first time only moments ago. Miranda has to lean up and put a hand over her mouth and with every pulse of her body, Andy's lungs beg for air and everything is so dark. Even if all the lights in the world were on, she's pretty sure she wouldn't be able to see a thing.
"Don't," Miranda whispers as everything calms down eventually and Andy is able to breathe again.
Let go, are the other words that Miranda doesn't say but Andy doesn't bother to finish for her like she often does at Runway, making the better choice to roll slowly to her side, bringing Miranda with her. With a leg draped over Miranda's hip and an arm under Miranda's head, Andy keeps her close.
And just be to be sure she won't, Andy says, "Don't move your hand."
"I hadn't planned on it," Miranda says. Then, "But please don't say this was a mistake…too soon," finishing in a tone that reminds Andy of her kitchen, that icy Death Star and the way Miranda was more than ready to accept not being loved in return.
"You'll never hear that come out of my mouth, Miranda. Never. I love you so much." Andy kisses her gently then says, "Please tell me you believe me."
"I do," Miranda says right away, making Andy's heart ache with joy. "I believe you, Andrea. However, I'm not sure why you do. It's not as if I'm wor—"
Oh, hell no.
"Stop," Andy says, cutting Miranda off immediately because this is just Greg talking and she won't stand for that. Not here in the bed. Not like this. Then again, what the hell is she supposed to say besides to reiterate that she does love Miranda, and that she's completely worthy of it? Andy can't explain why she does; only that she does. Period. But knowing Miranda, she needs to hear some sort of justification. Shit. "You're worth every ounce of love I have," Andy says, hoping that what she's about to say will be enough. "I've never known how to love somebody like this, Miranda. But I think I know how to love you, and I think you know how to love me. Even if it's not easy all the time, I have to have you. So you're just going to have to figure out how to live with being worthy. You really don't have a choice."
"I don't?" Miranda says and there's curiosity right at the edge of her words.
"No." Andy's reply is stern because there's no other way to be. She will have Miranda, so what's the point in saying otherwise? "I have to have you," she repeats. "I know you think the opposite is true, but sometimes you really don't have choices."
"And this is one of those times?"
"Absolutely," Andy says, firmly.
"What if I said you don't have a choice, either?"
"I already know that."
"Oh?"
"I'm ahead of the curve here."
"Yes, I found that out when you threw your t-shirt across the room."
For a split second there is silence then laughter from both of them. Minutes go by, then, where nothing is said; they just kiss each other until it's impossible to breathe.
When they take a break for air, Miranda slowly and gently removes her hand finally and rests is on Andy's lower back, pulling her closer. It's wet and hot but makes Andy shiver in anticipation for more… And she hasn't had Miranda yet. What time is it?
She doesn't care.
Reading her mind, Miranda says, "I want you to touch me," which drives Andy right out of her mind and she starts to do that very thing. But only seconds from getting Miranda's shirt off, she says, "No." pushing Andy's hand away. Mixed signals start going off all over the place. But, thank God, Andy gets an explanation that she can live with. "I won't be able to stop, Andrea. I'm sorry but I won't. If you touch me now… I've wanted this for too long. I'd beg for… And there isn't time to…"
Miranda continues to try to explain in broken sentences and Andy tries like hell to listen and get these new images in her head under control. She needs her. Miranda needs her. Badly. So much so that it's going to take an entire night to satisfy her; Andy can just picture it. She's wanted this for too long.
Okay, now Andy's really screwed because all she can think about is, well, satisfying Miranda beyond anything she's been able to dream up in that beautiful little head of hers. But finally, she's able to speak.
"Shhh," she quiets Miranda. "When there's time," Andy says, rolling on top of Miranda to torture them both just a little bit, "I'll take care of you, Miranda. When there's more time, you'll feel so good when I'm done with you. And I'll just start all over again."
"I guess I don't have a choice in that either. Do I?" Miranda says, pulling Andy against her hard, torturing them both just a little bit more. "Not that I want a choice, actually."
"No. You don't have a choice."
To torture Miranda just a little bit more, Andy rolls her hips forward and teases Miranda's bottom lip with her tongue, making a slow game of kissing her.
But then it happens. The phone rings. Not Miranda's cell phone. But the house phone.
"Oh, what the hell?" Miranda mutters as Andy moves off of her so she can reach for the phone. Even Andy knows that Miranda's house phone ringing this early in the morning can't be a good thing. And it isn't.
The person on the other end of the phone is one of the girls' classmates. At six o'clock in the damn morning, one of their classmates is calling the house? Do little kids not sleep late anymore? What is the deal with that? But anyway, it's a classmate named Erin, a girl Miranda must know because the first words out of her mouth after 'hello' is said, are, "Erin, what's the matter, darling? Why are you at school so early?"
So, Miranda can be nice on the phone to other people? That's a head spinning moment for sure. But then Miranda turns the light on by the bed and talk about head spinning—she's gorgeous. Her hair is all over the place; her clothes are wrinkled and twisted every which way and she looks like she's been kissed to death! Not to mention the evidence of tears, tears that are about something far better than any in Paris. Jesus, why does this have to end? Why can't they stay in bed all day? Why does a new day even have to start? Why?
The answer to all those questions is simply: Stop being stupid, Andy.
When Miranda stands up and puts her robe on in lightning speed, it's even clearer that something is wrong so Andy stops pouting and gets out of bed too, taking the gigantic sheet with her. When Miranda goes completely ridged, standing absolutely still, Andy really forgets about pouting and begins to panic. Yeah…something is wrong. What the fuck?
"I see," Miranda says in the same tone she uses when a minion has royally fucked something up at work. "And you're sure? Without a doubt? A single one?" There is a brief pause, then, "I will have the girls call you in five minutes…or less. Not a minute more, alright?"
Miranda doesn't say a thing after shutting off the phone and throwing it down, retreating to the bathroom instead, so Andy follows her. She chooses not to interrupt her, however. By the way Miranda washes her hands, her face and brushes her teeth; it just doesn't feel like a safe thing to do.
Miranda is pissed.
Before all hell breaks loose(at least that's what Andy thinks is about to happen), Miranda turns around on her way out the bedroom door and looks Andy up and down just like she does every day.
Andy can't help but blush and hold the sheet tightly around her because one: she's only in a sheet, and two: this is just…well, it makes her hot all over.
Walking toward her like the predator Andy knows is just waiting to come out, Miranda kisses her hard and says, or growls honestly, "I'm sure it's a sin to look that good in nothing but a sheet, Andrea. And don't think for a second that I'm not severely inclined to rid you of it… " Up until now, Miranda's just looked pissed off and ready to choke somebody but now, all of the sudden, she looks remorseful and even worried. "But the children co—"
"Come first," Andy finishes for her because really, they do. Why wouldn't they? "They come first," Andy repeats, cupping the back of Miranda's neck, pulling her back in. "They come first and always will."
With one last kiss that's much softer this time, Miranda leaves the room, closing the door behind her, looking sexier than should be legal. Andy distracts herself from illegal thoughts by searching for her t-shirt and shorts (she trips twice anyway and falls flat on her face both times) then rushes to be presentable enough to at least go across the hall to where her bags are.
She doesn't make it across the hall just yet.
Cassidy is on the phone with Erin. She's downstairs, but is quickly making her way up the stairs, and loudly too.
"You've got to be kidding!" she yells into the phone. "Are you sure?" she asks, just as Miranda had except she doesn't sound angry. She sounds like the world is crashing down around her.
Something else is said that Andy can't make out because Cassidy is running up the stairs now and the noise covers her voice, but only to a point because when she's obviously hung up, Cassidy starts yelling for Caroline.
Only, she doesn't call her sister Caroline. She calls her sister Carol…or is it Karol? What is she actually hearing?
Andy's head spins for a second…twins…all she can see are Halina and her brother twin brother Karol. She'll never see a picture of them both as children, or a picture of Karol period, most likely, but still…Andy suddenly has a very clear idea of them in her head. And was that on purpose? Naming her Caroline?
Her head is still spinning but Andy forces herself to move, to get a shower, to get dressed and ready because today will be different than any other. She knows this with certainty. It'll be different because she's scared to death for whatever is going on with the girls. Nate, Stephen, Greg and so many other people just don't matter anymore. The time she's just spent with Miranda and the many, many things they still need to talk about, doesn't even matter. There is only one thing (two, really) that matters. The girls. Carol…Caroline and Cassidy. They're all that will ever truly matter.
When her feet hit the bottom step and she turns toward the kitchen, toward the sound of their voices, a hundred images run through her mind, catching her off guard and that's when it hits Andy: This is probably how Sheree felt a long time ago—completely taken by surprise.
You go on through your day, your life, and so many other things are so damned important. Everything is always something that matters more than the last something you cared about. Then that stops. In the blink of an eye you've still got things that are important and that matter—like a career that takes you all over the world constantly—but those thing don't matter quite as much as they used to, and you're able to drop each and every one of them for your child.
Yes, this has to be just like what it was for Sheree; that day she chose not to go to England for weeks to give lectures about who can remember what. All because of what it would have meant at that particular time to Andy, who could hardly believe Sheree was even in her life, much less deal with her leaving, even if it was temporary.
Because to Andy, at that point in her childhood, nothing was temporary, someone leaving was never temporary. And suddenly, nothing else mattered to Sheree. When Andy got out of school that day, instead of a repeat of that someone not being there, Sheree was. She was right there waiting because Andy was more important than anything else, and she doesn't need to make a phone call to confirm that this is it.
Today, no one will be aware of this fact, but Andy Sachs has just become a parent. In the blink of an eye, without anyone's consent or even her own, she's become a parent.
TO BE CONTINUED