Telling
Chapter 2.
"Andy, Andy, where are you? We're all set to go!"
"Are you ready, munchkins? Swimsuits, goggles, towels?"
"Sure, we've been ready for ages. Come on, Please!"
Andrea straightened up from the fridge where she was extracting a carton of milk, and looked at the couple of auburn haired pixies doing their usual mad highland fling round the kitchen.
"Just wait two minutes while I take this coffee up for your Mom, then we'll be on the way."
"Is she coming to watch us later? Tell her she has to. I want her to see me dive."
"Sure, Cass. Of course she'll come. We're all going to eat breakfast together at Miller's Bakehouse Kitchen afterwards. You know, where they have the yummy blueberry pancakes."
Andrea added milk to a spill proof flagon of coffee, gave it an extra shot of boiling water, and set off upstairs at a swift jog. All she could see of Miranda in the bedroom was a shock of white hair emerging from under a cotton sheet in the centre of their bed. There were some signs though of a momma bear slowly waking from its nest of leaves.
"Coffee, darling! Drink it soon or you'll be complaining about it being cold."
"Hmm. Sure. Thanks love. Can you put it on the bedside table? You all going to the club for swimming already? . . . What's the time?"
"Quarter of eight. No need for you to get up yet. But the twins are keen you see them dive, so can you join us in an hour? They did so well at camp, and have been practising several times since."
"Of course. Just don't let them break their necks on the bottom of the pool."
"Of course. Don't worry. Well, I know you can't help it, but we'll take great care. Oh, and could you call and book us in for breakfast at the Kitchen as well? It's often crowded on Saturdays. 9.30 would be good."
"Sounds fine. But you realise we've never actually all gone there together? It's a magnet for the paparazzi at weekends."
"That's partly why I thought it would be a good spot. It's a gentle way to show we're a family, and there are so many kids there, the girls won't get hassled over much"
Miranda's sticking up hair was joined by her face, pink from sleep, and then by a pair of bare shoulders. She reached for her coffee and sipped it with pleasure. She loved it when Andrea talked about them being family.
"What would I do without you? Have I ever told you I love you?"
"Andy! Come on!"
A pair of little voices called in stereo from downstairs.
"Must go. Their session starts at eight fifteen. I love you too, gorgeous woman, and I'll see you soon."
Andy leaned over the bed and kissed her lover on the lips. "Last night it was scotch. Today it's coffee. You make every drink the sexiest taste in the world."
"Take care all of you, that's all. I love you too much."
"Andy!"
"Coming!" and Andrea had vanished into the morning, a vision in white tee shirt, blue denim shorts and a long dancing pony tail of chestnut curls tied up with a red spotted cotton ribbon.
Miranda heard her daughters shout "Bye Mom!" from the hall below, and the door down to the basement garage entry slam behind them. She lay back on the pillows and finished her coffee in peace. Her weekends were so much less frenetic now that Andy was with them, and did more than her fair share of parenting duties with the twins. In the old days she would have had to be up at seven to supervise breakfast or early swimming lessons, dog walking, piano practice, play-dates, and now all she had to do was to ease herself out of bed, do her slow stretching routine and head for the shower.
It was a privilege she appreciated unreservedly, for their happiness with Andy spilled over into the twins' relationship with her. She could see how they regarded Andy as a gift she had given them, someone who was so much fun, so positive, so unselfish, so interested in every little thing they did. If coming out to the world was maybe going to be thorny, at least to the twins, her visible love for Andy had been seen as the smartest thing their Mom had ever done.
On the way home from camp four weeks before, the girls had explored their relationship with forensic zeal. She remembered it with a wry smile.
"So Mom, you've got Andy really working 24/7 now? Are you paying her overtime?"
Andrea was driving, but caught their eyes in the mirror and gave them her sweetest smile.
"I came to share the driving, and because I really like your Mom, girls. She doesn't have to pay me to want to be here with you all."
"But Mom is such a bossy-boots. All her assistants leave after a few weeks, or she fires them. Mom, when are you going to fire Andy?"
"Never."
"Never?!" The twins had exchanged very intense looks.
"Well, maybe from the job if it's what she wants. But never from my life."
Caroline leaned forward from the back seat and put her hands on Miranda's shoulders.
"Mom, is this for real? Are you and Andy, you know, special friends, or something?"
"Yes, we are special friends. We're also something else. I'm thinking eventually we might all live together, if you two are happy with that idea. How would it be if Andy moved in with us at home, maybe before Christmas?"
"Gee, Mom. That would be great. Andy can do all our homework and we can introduce her to our friends. We've already told them we know a college soft-ball champ. That was so cool."
"Soft-ball champ? Why don't I know anything about this?"
Andrea rolled her eyes at the girls' reflection.
"Oh, now then girlies, I told you, not your Mom. I left it off my resume for Runway. It wasn't exactly relevant for an assistant job on a fashion mag."
Miranda had wondered what else Andrea had left off her resume. She known about her playing for an amateur team in New York, and she certainly appeared more than fit enough. But wasn't women's softball known for its gay following? If Andy kept playing, how soon might she tire of her aged lover and be lured into the arms of someone with firmer biceps and lovelier, more toned stomach muscles?
Miranda had felt all her insecurities rise up and bite her. She would be fifty next birthday. When Andy was her age, what would she be, seventy four or five, if she was still alive even? It seemed an impossible dream that Andy would love her for that long. But if it could happen, then at least the twins would have someone dear to them still in their lives. Their father was five years older than she was, and his lifestyle was so generally unhealthy that he could succumb to a coronary or stroke at any time.
The voice from the driver's seat next to her broke across her thoughts.
"If I come to live with you all, let's get one thing straight. I can teach you to pitch and catch a ball, but I'm not doing your homework for you anymore. Aren't you ashamed even to expect that? How will you learn anything, if you get other people to do all your assignments and projects? You are two very bright little sausages, and you are well able to do your own homework!"
Andrea sounded quite firm and a little strict. Miranda jolted herself out of her gloomy forecasting, and looked sideways at her with respect. The words were a gentle rebuke to her, she knew, for the arrogant expectations she had had in the past that her assistants would step in and make up for her lack of commitment in supporting the twins' school activities.
She could see even more clearly that Andrea's presence in their family would be wholly beneficial, and it reminded her of how efficient and organised Andy actually was, under that diverting and charming mask of fluster and diffidence she sometimes adopted. She so wanted her to join her family.
"Yes, no more homework. I absolutely endorse that. Would you both still be OK if we lived together?"
She squeezed Caroline's hands nestling round her neck, and looked back at Cassidy, who was gazing out of the car window. They had both caught the sun during their two weeks at camp, despite all her fussing about sunblock and hats, and their freckles had deepened. They also seemed to have grown at least three inches. She loved her little girls so much it made her feel foolish.
Cassidy spoke quietly.
"We'd love it Mom, especially if it makes you happy. We don't mind you being gay."
Miranda and Andrea had exchanged shocked looks of mutual surprise. How much did these ten year olds know about being gay? Andrea changed lanes and put her foot on the accelerator. She decided to let Miranda deal with responding to her child's first acknowledgement of the true nature of their relationship.
Miranda kept her voice light and calm, and prayed she hadn't blushed.
"What made you think I'm gay? Do you know what it means even?"
"Oh Mom, everyone knows what gay means. There's a boy and girl at Dalton's with two Moms, instead of a dad and a Mom. Anyway Steven said to us once months ago, "Your mother's a frigging dyke." We didn't know what a dyke was, so we went and looked it up on Google." Cassidy seemed quite in control of her words. Caroline added, "We did know what frigging stood for. Steven was a jerk. We're so happy you dumped him."
Caroline gave her mother's shoulders another squeeze. The gentler of the two girls, she was obviously concerned that they had upset her somewhat.
"We think Andy is really great. If you can get her to live with us, then that's cool with us. You can even kiss and cuddle her if you like."
Miranda and Andrea had exchanged a small sigh of relief. The twins were still children after all, and they could grow in understanding about adult sexuality naturally, as they matured into puberty.
Andrea joined in the conversation, and rounded it off smoothly. "The important thing is that yes, your Mom and I, we do love each other, and we both love you. I'm happy to help you in any way I can, just not on the homework detail. Now tell us more of what you've got up to over the last two weeks. I want to hear all about that horse-riding."
And so the long trip home had gone smoothly. The exhausted twins had soon nodded off in the back seat, and the ladies up front had quietly chatted their way back towards the big city lights of New York. Miranda's basket of fears had one less package in it, and another twinge eased in the following week when Andy announced out of the blue that she was resigning from her softball team at the end of the summer season.
"It's too far from here over to the Bronx, and the twins will keep me fit enough chasing after them."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely." Miranda had felt a kiss on her head, and a squeeze of her shoulders, and another weight had lifted. She didn't deserve Andrea who knew of her insecurities without either of them saying a word. God, she loved the girl.
She'd taken her Porsche sports car to follow them all to the swimming club, and watched in awe as her little daughters climbed one by one up onto the spring board and both dived neatly and efficiently into the deep end of the long pool. Raised in England, with lessons in a frigid outdoor Lido, her swimming skills were minimal. She could keep afloat but that was about it. How had she given birth to two such neat little athletes?
"You were fantastic, Bobbsies. Well done!"
They had dried and dressed and were walking to the car in the bright sunshine. It was going to be another blazing day. The women swopped vehicles and Miranda drove on ahead to the Pancake Kitchen with the girls in the Lexus. Andrea took the keys to the Porsche. Miranda had added her to the insurance on both cars. She wanted Andrea to have the Porsche in her name, but Andy had refused.
"Just put me on as a named driver. That's fine."
"Why won't you let you give you more? "
"More? You fill my life with joy. What more could I possibly need?" Andy had parried.
But last night she had jokingly suggested she could be Miranda's concubine. As Miranda shepherded her damp haired daughters into breakfast, she realised the positive connotations of that thought. She and Andy were moving ever closer towards coupledom.
Just as Sally, Andrea's gay policewoman friend, had suggested, the next stage would be to put a ring on her love's finger. If she accepted, and she fervently hoped she would, that would definitely tell the world who belonged in whose heart. She heard the Porsche purring engine draw into the parking lot behind them, and strode forward to claim their reserved table for breakfast this hot August Saturday in New York.
Miranda had been right. Even though the restaurant management tried to exclude them, a gaggle of freelance photographers were lurking near its door, and also in the parking lot attached. It was a popular venue for the families of the Upper East Side, with stars of stage and screen often seen pushing their strollers through its door, and sometimes whole carpools' full of celebrity children seated inside.
Cass and Caro recognised a few school friends and waved at them. They both hung on Andy's arms as she joined them to move across to be seated. They were the famous or infamous Priestly twins, well known to the gossip columnists, and Miranda had had to spit fire several times in the past at those who dared to name them, or speculate about what they were up to. One or two journalists now writing obituaries for a living in rural Idaho, owed their professional demise to speculating too freely on the family life of the Priestlys.
The Millers Bakehouse Kitchen breakfast was as scrumptious as ever, and while Miranda stuck to her (very boring) egg-white spinach omelette and black coffee, she enjoyed watching Andy and her daughters all tucking in to generous helpings of blueberries, cream cheese and pancakes.
"When we were at camp, we learned how to make Smores on the campfire, and dampers. They are wriggly worms of dough you cook over the fire," informed Cassidy.
"I wish we could make a fire in our back yard, but it's too small," added Caro, eating the final spoonful of blueberry pancake.
"Well," said Miranda, keeping Andy onside with a little lift of her eyebrows. "You know when we came up for you at the end of the Camp, Andy and I had been up to a town called Provincetown in Cape Cod. It's by the sea. I haven't told you before in case it fell through, but we've bought a little house there, next to the beach. You can make all the camp fires you like there on the sand. The paperwork will complete next week and we could all go up for the week leading up to Labor Day if you like. We could order furniture beforehand and have it delivered ready. Then we could settle in and enjoy the last week of the summer vacations before you go back to school. How does that sound?"
The twins were amazed, and delighted at this news.
"And Andy will be coming too?"
"Of course."
"Great."
"It may not be on the Internet yet though. You won't get to bury your head in those games consoles all day."
"Oh. Gee. But never mind. It'll still be fun," said Caroline magnanimously.
"What about the East Hampton house? Are we still keeping that?" asked Cassidy.
"I'm not sure. I'll see what your father says. Your Grandparents still enjoy going there, so we might make an arrangement that you can visit with them there if you like."
"Don't mind. We love Granny and Gramps, but East Hampton is really for grown-ups who like fancy food. Does Dad know you've bought this house in Provincetown?"
"No, and please don't tell him before I do. I'll be calling him tomorrow to discuss your next visit to him."
Andrea watched the girls' expressions change from enthusiasm into a sort of resigned gloom. They said nothing further. It was sad they weren't happier about their regular visits to their Dad's huge house near Boston, where he was a high-end divorce lawyer, now on his fourth young female partner.
Two further marriages in the six years since his to Miranda had collapsed, had ended very expensively for him, despite all his professional expertise on behalf of his clients, so he was now determined to just keep to girlfriends. Always optimistic he would soon relent and marry them, these girls tried their best at first to get along with his twin daughters, but this invariably had failed miserably. They soon considered them sullen brats, and the ensuing mutual dislike spilled over to sour father daughter relationships as well.
Andy realised this was largely because their Dad so rarely spent quality time just with them, and so she was always careful to make sure Miranda and the twins had enough time just for the three of them to be together. It was the main reason she had not yet relinquished her apartment, but that would certainly have to go if she gave up her Assistant's position at Runway. It was yet another thing to work through in her mind, and to talk to Miranda about.
Miranda today looked gorgeous, as usual, but her eyes danced and sparkled more than normal, and she was smiling at the world. Andy could feel the paparazzi boys gearing up for some exit pictures and braced herself to look away or slink into the shadows behind Miranda. Hopefully they might assume she was a Nanny or something, and not even include her in any shots.
But Miranda had other ideas. She decided it was now or never. She deliberately linked arms with Andrea as they left through the door, and then in full view of the bevy of cameras, went further and took Andy's left hand in her right. She smiled straight at the photographers as if daring them not to publish the picture.
The twins even looked at each other and silently conferred on the matter of their Mom going mad. They knew all about Page 6 and the scavenging pack of tabloids running in its wake. Miranda strolled Andy to their cars parked beside each other, and held her hand to the end.
"Are you sure that was wise, my love?" murmured Andy, as Miranda let her sit in the Porsche driver's seat, and finally released her hand.
"Oh yes," murmured Miranda. "Let's get things moving here. I just need you to call your parents this weekend, and tell them about me, as much as you feel you want to. I don't want this subterfuge to last any longer than it has to. You know what you mean to me, and that won't change. Ever."
One especially cheeky reporter had followed them to the cars. He almost swivelled up between Miranda and Andy sitting in the car. "Any news for us, Miranda? Who's your new "friend"? He managed to load the last word with smut. Miranda turned and looked at him calmly.
"If you wish to know anything, then look out for a press conference later in the week. I have some significant news about Runway and the bright future ahead for us all in the world of fashion. Now please get out of my way. I need to take my children out of this harmful sun."
Andy hid behind the windows of the sports car and gently steered behind Miranda's Lexus out of the parking lot. What had she meant about a press conference? And, oh dear, there was no escaping. She would have to do as Miranda asked and call her parents. Telling them might be the hardest conversation she had ever had. It was going to be a long and hot weekend.