Prompt: [a mirandy twist on a dream i had about someone i know]


"—and then on Wednesday, you need to have Miranda's dress delivered to the hotel no later than 4pm," Emily said.

"I know, I know," Andrea said, holding the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she reached out to open the doors. "Shit, she's here. I gotta go," she said, quickly ending the call.

Since returning from Paris, Andrea had been busy doing both hers and Emily's jobs, as the first assistant needed surgery on her knee. This meant spending her weekends in the office: Saturday catching up on everything from the previous week, and Sunday planning for the week to come.

However, she was not expecting to see Miranda here on this Sunday morning.

She entered the office quietly, setting her things down and hanging her coat in the closet.

"Good morning, Miranda," she said quietly. The editor did not respond, nor did Andrea expect a response.

Once seated at her desk, she focused on the week ahead and worked first on the schedule—confirming appointments, creating agendas, and booking a car service. After an hour or so, she heard an uncharacteristic grunt—or maybe it was more like a gasp—come from the editor's office.

When the sound was not followed by the editor's voice, the young assistant quickly sent the schedule she was working on to the printer, which was located behind Emily's desk and would require her to walk past the door. This way, she would be able to casually look in Miranda's office to ensure she was okay.

While she walked towards the printer, she noticed Miranda was sitting at her desk chair with her hands on her knees, looking down. It was an odd position to see the editor in, but Andrea reminded herself that it was Sunday and she may have just needed more rest. On the way back from the printer, she froze in the doorway as she saw the editor's form slump forward to the floor.

"Miranda!?" she cried, running into the office and turning the editor onto her back. But she wasn't moving, and she wasn't responding.

Without thinking, Andrea dialed 911 on the office phone and switched it to speakerphone, then knelt next to the woman, feeling for a pulse. While the 911 operator answered, Andrea confirmed that there was no pulse and the woman was not breathing, so she began to administer chest compressions, praying that the woman would live to forgive her for touching her.

The 911 operator asked if there was an automatic electronic defibrillator (AED) nearby, but Andrea didn't ever recall seeing one in the building. She explained that she was alone there, and begged the paramedics to hurry. The operator stayed on the line, encouraging Andrea to keep giving compressions while she had a colleague phone Elias-Clarke security to send someone on-site upstairs with an AED.

Time froze. Miranda looked lifeless, and for all intents and purposes, she was dead. Each time Andrea pushed down, she realized that her hands were the only chance Miranda had to survive—and that terrified her.

Some time later, after Andrea had lost count of the compressions, she heard the elevator doors open. "Help! In here!" she shouted as loud as she could. Her arms were aching, tears streamed down her cheeks. She didn't know how much longer she could keep this up. Or if it was even helping the lifeless editor.

One of the security guards, Shawn, ran into the room with an AED. "Let me move this desk, then we can switch, okay? The ambulance should be here any minute," he said.

Andrea kept pushing on the fragile woman's chest while he moved the desk away enough so that he could fit on her other side. "Okay, ready? Switch!" he called.

Andrea sat back on her heels while he pressed down on the editor's chest. She was sure she heard a few ribs crack under the strength of his compressions, but she tried not to think too much about it, as he was telling her to open the AED.

She quickly opened the box and pressed the power button. Looking at the diagram, she knew she had to place one of the leads on Miranda's upper chest and the other on her lower, but to do so, she would need to take the editor's shirt off.

As the machine shouted to place the leads, Shawn quickly grabbed the collar of the editor's blouse and ripped it open, sending buttons flying as he exposed her chest. Andrea handed him the upper lead to place and she placed the lower one, then pressed another button on the machine.

"Clear!" the machine barked.

Andrea and Shawn both sat back, waiting for the machine to send a shock through the editor's body. Watching her lifeless body twitch at the electric shock was horrifying. Andrea was overcome with tears, so much so that she didn't even notice the AED calling out to continue CPR.

Shawn continued compressions, and the AED instructed them to clear for another shock. While this was happening, Andrea heard a commotion at the elevators, which she could only assume was the paramedics. But after this shock, she heard a tiny intake of breath, something she decided was the most beautiful sound in the world.

"Miranda?!" she called, quickly cupping the editor's cheek. "Miranda, can you hear me?"

The editor's eyes fluttered open and she took a deeper breath. "Andr—wh…what happened?" she whispered.

Andrea shook her head as tears streamed down her cheeks. "You're going to be okay. The paramedics are here now. You're going to be okay," she repeated.

Shawn helped Andrea up and out of the way while the paramedics turned off the AED and got Miranda on oxygen. They quickly whisked her onto a gurney and practically ran out of the office.

"Wait—can I come with?" Andrea called behind them as she gathered Miranda's bag and phone, as well as her own.

Shawn led her to the service elevator where he inserted a key and was able to get them to the ground floor quick enough that she could run out to the ambulance with Miranda. She thanked him and quickly jumped into the ambulance with the others.

She looked down at Miranda's phone and wondered who the woman would want to call if she was in the hospital. As she scrolled through her contacts, she realized that it would probably be her or Emily who would get the call. As far as she was aware, she did not have any family members with whom she was in touch, nor did she have any close friends.

Finally, she decided to contact James, because the girls would be returning to the townhouse that evening, and based on what the paramedics were saying, she would not be returning home tonight. Andrea composed a quick text message:

Hi, this is Andrea (Miranda's assistant). Miranda is okay—she's awake and talking. She is being taken to Presbyterian by ambulance—she had a cardiac arrest at the office just now. I can let you know more later, or hopefully she will be able to call you herself. Let me know if you need me to arrange for Cara to stay with the girls tonight. -Andy

Several minutes later, she got a reply:

Oh god, but she's okay? Tell her I'm on my way, and that Kathy will meet me there.

Andrea responded:

She is critical but stable, they tell me. Pulling into emergency room now. I will connect with Cara. -A

It was a flurry of movement as they whisked Miranda away and inside the building. Andrea carried their bags and made her way inside, sitting down in the small waiting area one of the paramedics led her to. She dug through Miranda's bag for her wallet and pulled out her driver's license and medical insurance cards, knowing someone would need to see them soon.

One of the paramedics stopped and sat next to her. "Is she going to be okay?" Andrea asked.

"Thanks to you, yes, she's going to be fine," he said, placing his hand on her shoulder.

She felt a sigh of relief. "I didn't do anything," she said.

"That's where you're wrong," he said. "The 911 operator told us you were doing compressions for ten minutes before help arrived."

"Really? It was that long?" she asked.

"Yes. And when Shawn took over, you helped with the AED. Young lady, that woman is alive because your hands kept her heart beating. She owes you," he said.

Andrea rolled her eyes at the thought of Miranda owing anyone anything. "Can I go see her?"

"Not yet. They are running tests to see how severe the damage to her heart was. She will need surgery, but they don't know whether it will just be a bypass or if she will need a device to regulate her heartbeat," he explained.

"What happened? I heard you say 'cardiac arrest' in the ambulance, but isn't that just a heart attack?" Andrea asked.

"No. Cardiac arrest is when the heart completely stops, so there's no pulse and no breathing. Chest compressions manually force the heart to pump blood through the body, which keeps the brain and extremities alive."

"I didn't even do any mouth-to-mouth or whatever, is that okay?"

"Yes. You were there right away, so her blood was still pretty oxygenated. I gotta go—we have another call. They'll tell you when you can see her," he said, giving her shoulder a squeeze before walking away.

Andrea took a deep breath. It was all so much to process. Had she really saved Miranda's life? What would have happened if it were Emily there, or worse, if no one was there? Not wanting to think in what-ifs, Andrea called Cara and explained the situation. She wasn't sure where the girls were, but Cara reassured her that she would figure it out and take care of them.

A few minutes later, a nurse asked Andrea to fill out some paperwork, then led her upstairs to the cardiac intensive care unit, where Miranda would be following her cardio-thoracic scan.

Andrea hurried to the elevators, and eventually found the room on the third floor. Miranda was already there, and she seemed to be sitting up. There were a lot of doctors and nurses around her, so she set Miranda's bags on the chair at the opposite end of the room and stood patiently, staying out of the way. She'd wait until the room was clear, and then she could see if Miranda needed anything else.

She heard someone marching down the hallway and her ears perked, knowing full well that it couldn't be the editor. "Miranda!" the woman burst in the room shouting.

"Kathy," the editor said quietly. Andrea couldn't see her face, but she could hear that Miranda was using a familiar tone of voice, so she relaxed in her chair.

"Oh, Miranda, is my team taking care of you? I told them, only the best doctors in the city touch you. Are you comfortable?" she asked.

Miranda nodded.

"Good. Good. I'm going to put a rush on your test results, and we'll get you taken care of," she said. "Come on," she added, gesturing to the others in the room, "let's give the patient a chance to get some of that much-needed rest we talk about." She dimmed the lights overhead and marched out of the room, all the others following behind. Except Andrea, quietly perched on the chair in the corner.

The editor closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She seemed to be resting comfortably, so Andrea didn't want to bother her. After a few minutes, Miranda opened her eyes again and looked around the room, stopping when she saw the young woman. "Andrea?"

The assistant quickly jumped up and came around to Miranda's bedside. "Hi Miranda. Do you need something?" she asked.

Miranda reached for the young woman's hand and squeezed it tightly as tears fell down her cheeks.

"Miranda? What's wrong?"

"You saved my life, Andrea, and I don't even know how to begin to thank you for that."

The young woman smiled and squeezed her hand again. "It was nothing. I'd do it again in a heartbeat," she said. "Err, you know."

"Did you call Kathy?" Miranda asked.

"No. I sent a message to James and he said he was going to. I hope that's alright. Who's Kathy?" Andrea asked.

Miranda rolled her eyes. "That hurricane that just came through. She's chief of staff here and my former sister-in-law," she said.

"Oh I see. Well, at least she seems to want to get you the best care," Andrea said.

Miranda was just about to speak when James burst through the door, rushing to her bedside and kissing her on the forehead as he hugged her gently.

"Oh, love, what happened?" he asked as he pressed another kiss to her cheek.

"James, I'm fine. Just a little sore," she added as she rubbed her chest.

A few doctors returned and Kathy suddenly spotted Andrea in the corner. "You—out," she said. "Family only, and no more than one visitor per room up here," she said.

Andrea didn't even have a second to reply, because someone had already taken her by the arm and led her outside. She was forced to walk all the way down the hall and around the corner to where the waiting room was located. Sighing, she took a seat and looked down at her phone. Weighing her options, she decided to check-in with Cara and make sure the girls were with her. Once she confirmed that Miranda's daughters were safe, she typed out an email to Emily and Nigel, explaining what had happened. Just before clicking "Send," she added that she would be unavailable for the rest of the day and asked that Emily coordinate with Elias-Clarke Public Relations.

It was exhausting, just sitting there, thinking about the events of the morning. It was already two o'clock in the afternoon. Looking down at her hands, she started to cry again. When she heard the familiar ding of her cell phone, she finally looked up and saw a text message from Miranda: Did you leave already?

She wiped her eyes and wrote back: No, I'm just in the waiting room. Do you need something?

She waited several minutes for a response, pulling a small makeup mirror out of her purse to fix the smudged mascara under her eyes. Her phone pinged again with a response: James and Kathy left. Surgery is in a few.

Andrea paused before replying, knowing she couldn't handle the disappointment of being pushed away again.

Her phone chirped again: Come back.

That's it. Two words that she couldn't refuse. She quickly ran to Miranda's room, taking a deep breath before knocking and opening the door to let herself inside. The lights were dim and it was perfectly silent except for the monitor keeping track of the editor's heartbeat.

"Was there something you needed?" Andrea asked as she approached the woman's bedside.

Miranda nodded, reaching out and taking the young woman's hand. "Even with the best doctors, open heart surgery is a risk. Anything could happen," she said, softly tracing the back of Andrea's hand with her fingertips.

"Please don't think like that, Miranda."

The editor shook her head and brought her hands up to cover her face as she started to cry.

The young woman lowered the side rail on the bed and sat gently on the edge, taking the woman into her arms and hugging her gently.

Miranda wrapped her arms around the young woman, squeezing tightly as she buried her face in the woman's neck. "I—I—I almost—I could've—I almost died," she cried.

Andrea softly rubbed her back and tried to calm her down. "It's okay, you're okay now. But you need to stay calm," she said. "I can't imagine that crying or this is good for your heart." That seemed to do the trick, and the older woman took a deep breath and leaned back, looking up at the ceiling.

After a few moments, she locked eyes with Andrea. "Will you be here when I'm out of surgery? When I wake up?" she asked quietly.

Andrea was surprised. "I, uh, I would—I want to be here for you. They won't let me. I'm not family, they said."

Miranda rolled her eyes. "I'll talk to Kathy. But you—you won't leave?"

"I won't leave you," Andrea said, squeezing her hand tightly. "I'll be here."

The editor sighed in relief and relaxed back into the pillows. Andrea stayed sitting at the edge of her bed, and after a few minutes, she noted the editor was grimacing, the bedsheet balled up in her fist.

"Miranda?" she called, shaking the woman gently. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," she said. "It feels like—like I can't breathe. My chest—"

Andrea quickly ran out into the hallway and spotted Kathy at the desk. "Something's wrong with Miranda!" she called, running back into the room. She grasped the woman's hand and brought it up to her lips. "It's going to be okay, Miranda. You're going to be okay. I'm here," she whispered.

Kathy rushed in with a nurse and they quickly administered a drug in Miranda's IV. "Miranda, we're going to take you back to surgery right now, okay? You should feel better in a few minutes, and I just want you to relax, okay?"

Miranda nodded and squeezed Andrea's hand tightly.

Kathy's eyes caught the movement and she suddenly noticed the way the two women were looking at one another. "Holy shit," she gasped. "Does my brother know?"

Miranda turned and looked up at Kathy. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Kathy smirked. "I'm talking about this beautiful brunette whose hand you're holding," she said.

"Oh, yes, Andrea. She is beautiful, isn't she?" Miranda said, smiling. "I want her here when I wake up," she added.

"Okay, princess, whatever you want," Kathy said, winking at Andrea, who had a horrified look on her face. "Can you count backwards from ten for me, sweetie?"

"Ten… Nine… Eight…"

"Anesthesia," Kathy whispered to Andrea.

The young woman felt Miranda's hand go limp and released it gently onto the bed. "Will she be okay?"

Kathy nodded. "She will be fine. I'll make sure of it. And I won't say anything about whatever you two have going on."

"What? No, it's nothing. I'm her assistant!" Andrea said quickly in defense.

Kathy helped the nurse and transporter start wheeling Miranda off to surgery, but then she peeked her head back into the room. "You're welcome to stay here, or one of the nurses can show you to our break room if you want to shower or anything. Surgery will be about 4-5 hours, and we'll let you know if there's any update."

"Thank you," Andrea said.

Kathy winked and walked out of the room.

.

.

/