A/N: First things, first, I want to apologize for being way late with an update. At first, I had writer's block. It was frustrating trying to remember what happened when I had my concussion (only know what my family remembers of it), and the fact that I still have issues with memory and a few other things, fifteen years later.
Then, I combed thru the various fics in my 'TBR' tab. What has that got to do with a late update? I fell down the rabbit hole of binge-reading fics from Gun Brooke and that's how I got even more distracted.
Lastly, this chapter is to celebrate me turning twenty-three (on March 27th). It also coincidentally marks five years of hanging around in the DWP fandom!
Side Note: I can't guarantee that all of the medical aspects of this story will be completely accurate. There's going to be a new character intro in this chapter (character has a slight British accent). Also, this has potential to be more popular than "Stop and Love". Wow. By the way, there's eventually going to be a sequel for that story, titled: "Runway and Love".
Without further rambling...
Enjoy, lovies!
After watching Michelle gently cleaning up Andrea, I finally got enough bearings to figure what to do. I called James, the twins father, and asked if he could watch Caroline and Cassidy for a day or so. While I would love to have my two-year-old girls with me, a hospital's ICU is no place for children.
Afterwards, I called Emily and asked her to see if she knew how to get a hold of Andrea's mother. That girl needs a raise, after getting me the number in a matter of a couple of minutes.
Right after I hung up with Emily, I very quickly dialed the number I was given.
As soon as the phone was answered almost instantly, you could hear some sort of bustling in the background.
"This is Claire Valentine, how can I help you?"
"Ah, yes... this is Miranda Priestly calling on behalf of your daughter..."
"Oh, shit. Which daughter, I have two of them?"
"Andrea."
"Oh, NO! Andy!? Is she okay?"
"I'm assuming she will be, but I am not sure. I just got to the hospital an hour ago. They called me, saying I was her emergency contact and I was needed here asap."
"Oh, gods. I'm currently standing outside of my classroom right now, let me get someone to watch my class and I will be on the first flight to New York, that I can get."
"No, need. My jet will be waiting for you at... what airport is it, that's nearest you?"
"Gerald R. Ford International."
"Good. My jet will be waiting for you as soon as you get there. If you have any issues, text me via the number I'm calling from and I will make heads roll."
"O-okay. When I arrive in New York?"
"My driver, Roy, will be waiting for you and will bring you straight up to the fourth floor of Presbyterian."
It was hours later that I walked out of the bathroom, to a commotion outside of Andrea's room.
"What do you mean...?"
"You can't go in there ma'am, your name isn't on the list."
"MY DAUGHTER IS IN THE-"
I opened the door to see a woman with long blonde hair, arguing with Andrea's nurse.
"Michelle, is there a reason you're not letting Andrea's mother see her daughter?"
When Andrea's mother spun around to face me, my jaw dropped. There, in front of me, stood a woman I haven't seen in almost thirty years.
Simultaneously, we both exclaimed each other's nicknames.
"Miri!"
"Viv!"
Vivianne regarded me with cautious curiosity, as I did the same to her. It was strange seeing her after so long. We, along with Nigel, moved from the outskirts of London to New York for a better life and to get away from our families. After we graduated from fashion school, Vivianne disappeared leaving a vague letter of explanation. Maybe now, I will get an explanation that's not so mysterious and vague?
I know that this chapter is short. The length was intended to be longer, but for some odd reason that I can't put my finger on, it seemed right to end it where I did. If you have any thoughts or suggestions, feel free to let me know and I will take them into consideration.
Sorry for the crap updating schedule, I really do try my best.