"Are you ready for this?" Andrea asked as they walked towards the front door together.
"Do I have a choice?"
"You always have a choice, Miranda." She grinned.
Miranda rolled her eyes. "I was truly horrible to you then."
"I know. I forgive you," she said, squeezing her hand. "Answer the door."
Miranda opened the door and welcomed her treatment team inside, to the formal living room. She planned to let them take over the room for whatever they needed.
She had decided on the in-home option, which would require daily visits for at least six months, and today was the first of those days. She was discharged yesterday, and it was a requirement that the first visit be within 12 hours of leaving the hospital. Andrea sublet her apartment for six months and stored several boxes in Miranda's basement, keeping only a suitcase and her work bag in her bedroom, the guest room that was on the same floor as Miranda's bedroom.
"This is my friend Andrea," Miranda said by way of introduction. "She's staying with me for the time being, and I've already consented to any personal health information being shared with her. Same for anything therapy-related here."
Andrea was surprised by her words, but gracefully shook the hands of Stuart, the psychiatrist, Regina, the nurse, and Jennifer, the cognitive behavioral therapist.
Stuart explained the overall process, that today would mostly be intake and the real work would begin tomorrow. Regina would visit twice a week, but Stuart and Jessica would come every day at 11:30 am and stay at least 90 minutes, likely longer in the beginning. This included weekends.
Regina took Miranda's vitals, confirmed her medications, and asked if she could leave a locked box in the living room with her medical supplies, so she didn't have to bring them back and forth. The box would contain no medication aside from ibuprofen or acetaminophen, and Miranda showed her an area behind the couch where she might store it.
Jennifer asked Miranda to take her on a tour of the house, and Andrea could tell it was serving as an introduction as well. While they were upstairs, Stuart asked Andrea questions about Miranda's job, her overall stress level, her social behaviors, her relationship with her children, her husbands, her eating habits, how she relaxes. Andrea didn't know the answers to some of them, but she offered what she did know, including how she walked in on Stephen and Miranda's argument that one night. He seemed satisfied with that information, and when Miranda and Jennifer returned, Regina left, after explaining that she would be visiting on Tuesdays and Fridays.
Stuart turned to Miranda. "I'd like to do an initial assessment, just gathering some facts around your recent hospital visits and what sort of led to this treatment."
"You should have everything in your files. I confirmed that Dr. Wright's office sent everything over," Miranda said.
Stuart smiled. "Yes, I do have all that, and I've read through it. But I want to hear from you, in your own words."
"Oh, of course. I, uh, I guess I knew this was coming."
"I'm going to prepare lunch," Andrea said, standing and hoping to give them some privacy.
"No!" Miranda said. It came out much louder than she intended. "I mean, please stay," she said. She turned to Stuart. "It's hard to talk about this, to say it out loud." When he nodded, she continued. It went like that for over an hour, and she was emotionally spent afterwards. Stuart and Jennifer promised to return the following day, at the same time, and after saying goodbye, Andrea saw them out.
"You were really nervous," Andrea said, sitting next to her on the sofa. "That seemed really tough for a first day."
"They made it sound like it would just be an introduction, an easy day. If each day is harder than this, I don't know that I can last six weeks, let alone six months."
"One day at a time," Andrea said, grinning.
Miranda rolled her eyes. "You would really think they could come up with a better name for their company."
"Any more thoughts on tomorrow?"
Miranda stared at her for a minute, then once she figured out what she was asking about, she shook her head. "I'm going to tell Rebecca I need the week off. Before they came, I was thinking afternoons in the office would be better, but I don't think my brain will be cooperative."
"Okay. And any more thoughts on James?"
"I keep forgetting. I'll go call him right now."
"I can bring you your phone," Andrea offered.
"You are not my assistant. You already do more than enough for me. I'll call him from my room, unless you'd like to listen in on the extension?"
"Ha ha, not funny. I'm hungry, so I'm going to make lunch. Still feel like egg salad?"
"Yes, that's fine." Miranda stood and walked towards the stairs, then stopped. "I have this impulse to thank you, constantly. For sitting with me. For reminding me to call. For making lunch."
Andrea grinned. "I think you've given me enough thank yous in the past two days to span a lifetime, so I hear you, and you don't need to say it more than once in a while."
"Okay, th— goddamnit!" Miranda cursed as she walked up the stairs.
Over the next few months, they fell into an easy rhythm. Andrea worked on various articles and assignments from the guest bedroom, and when she occasionally needed to do an interview, she made sure that she scheduled it between 8:00 am and noon. Her editor was very accommodating, and Andrea was grateful.
Miranda spent her mornings at Runway, usually from about 8:30 until 11:00 am, spent time with Stuart and Jennifer and sometimes Regina until about 1:30 pm, ate lunch, then answered emails or otherwise worked until 6:00 pm. Rebecca still brought the Book on weeknights if it was ready by 8:00 pm. And if it wasn't, Miranda would go into the office a bit earlier to review it in the morning. Everything was going smoothly, and even Nigel was back to his usual self.
For most of the afternoon, Miranda worked from her study on the second floor and Andrea from her room—suite, really—on the third. Occasionally, when Andrea emerged for coffee, she would find the editor curled up in her bed or staring out the kitchen window. Overall, it was going well, and Andrea was relieved that they were able to spend so much time apart under the same roof because it made it easier for her to remember why she was there: to help Miranda get through treatment.
One morning, Andrea came downstairs for coffee and saw Miranda sitting on the stairs, her jacket draped over her shoulders.
"Hey," Andrea said, taking a seat next to her.
"I can't go in today," she said, putting her head in her hands.
"Okay. Let Rebecca know. I'm sure it won't be a problem."
At the suggestion, Miranda simply handed her phone over. Andrea quickly sent a message from Miranda's phone, then pulled out her own to tell Rebecca everything was fine, that they'd have to make due without Miranda for the day. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Miranda shook her head, tossed her coat across the banister, and marched upstairs.
Andrea was left sitting on the step holding the woman's phone. She stood, poured two cups of coffee, then went upstairs and found Miranda in bed. "Here," she said, handing her a mug of coffee and setting her phone on the nightstand. Andrea sat on the edge of the bed and quietly sipped her coffee.
"You don't have to hover. I'm fine," Miranda said between sips.
"I know. I hardly see you, despite our being under the same roof. You've been working through dinner lately, and I've had a few interviews I had to do. I'll go back across the hall if you want, though."
"No, it's fine," she said, tracing her fingers along the handle of the mug. "Caroline isn't happy with James. She asked if she could come home."
"Oh no, when did she tell you?"
"Last night. Cassidy is fine, but Caroline, she's a little more sensitive. She also started her period a few days ago—Cassidy hasn't yet—and I suspect she feels uncomfortable talking with James about it. He's not one of those 'cool' dads," Miranda added.
"What did you tell her?"
"Nothing, really. That she should give her dad another chance, that I'd try to plan time to visit them soon. I think I would really like them to come home."
"What do Thelma and Louise think?"
Miranda laughed. "You really need to stop calling them that. One of these days I'm going to slip and call Stuart 'Thelma.'"
Andrea smiled. It was good to hear Miranda laugh.
"To answer your question, when I brought it up a few weeks ago, they were very hesitant, Jennifer in particular. Something about gradually introducing changes into my routine."
"Maybe you could have them over on Friday or Saturday night, then? We could do dinner and watch a movie, or I don't know, what do twelve-year-olds do?"
"I don't think they know you're staying here."
"Oh, well, I can make plans somewhere, go hang out with Emily or something."
"You would do that?"
"Of course. I know how much they mean to you."
Miranda reached out and squeezed Andrea's hand. "I will talk to James. He knows you're here. We will discuss a way to tell them. I think it will be better in the long run if I don't hide it from them."
"Okay, you just let me know whatever you decide, and I've got your back. Can I give you a hug?" she asked.
Miranda nodded and set her coffee down. Andrea set hers down, too, then wrapped her arms around the editor. "I'm sorry I'm so difficult," Miranda said quietly.
"You're not," Andrea replied. "I just care about you and want you to be okay."
Miranda wiped her eyes. "Can I come sit with you while you work?"
"Sure!" Andrea said. "As long as you promise not to edit over my shoulder."
Miranda grinned and held up her right hand. "I do solemnly swear to not comment on your writing."
They went across the hall, and Andrea made herself comfortable at the desk while Miranda sat on her bed, leaning against the headboard. The next time Andrea looked up, Miranda was sound asleep, curled against her pillow. In that moment, Andrea was struck by how absolutely beautiful she looked. She silently snapped a photo with her digital camera, then closed her laptop and curled up behind the woman, gently draping her arm across her waist and closing her eyes.
When Miranda woke, she remembered falling asleep in Andrea's room, but Andrea wasn't at her desk, she was curled up next to her. Still, Miranda was intrigued. She slowly turned onto her back, careful not to wake the other woman and studied her face, watching the little grins and smiles she was making in her sleep. Miranda reached up and cupped the young woman's cheek, quickly pulling her hand away when she started to wake.
"Oh, shit. Hi," she said, blushing slightly and removing her arm from where it rested on Miranda's stomach.
"Hi. You were sleeping so peacefully. I'm sorry if I woke you."
"I guess we both needed a nap," Andrea said.
"Were you there long? I didn't even notice. When I fell asleep, you were still at your desk."
Andrea looked at the clock. "Maybe 45 minutes or so?"
Miranda was intrigued by the young woman's reticence on the subject. She didn't just fall asleep at her desk, she chose to curl up behind her. "It must be why I slept so well."
Andrea smiled and excused herself to the bathroom, but Miranda was right behind her.
"Andrea," she said through the door. "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable. It was rather nice, napping with you like that. I didn't… dislike the proximity. I'll let you get back to work," she said before heading downstairs for more coffee.
Andrea heard Miranda's words, and couldn't help but laugh. Only Miranda would say she "didn't dislike the proximity" when she meant that she liked being held. But the message came through loud and clear: Miranda liked it. Andrea made a mental note to talk to Thelma or Louise the next time she could get one of them alone.
Several hours later, Andrea was finishing typing the last sentence in her article when Miranda knocked and poked her head inside the open door. "I'm going to be across the hall with Jennifer for a while."
Andrea smiled. "Okay, thanks for letting me know. I'm just finishing up here, then I'll make lunch." It looked like she was going to have that conversation with Stuart now.
"So, um, I have a few questions, sorta about Miranda's treatment," she said.
"Of course, please sit. How can I help?"
Andrea sat in Miranda's armchair and spotted some short white hair sticking to the navy blue velvet upholstery. "Does she ever say anything about me? I mean, like, about our rel—our friendship?"
"You're asking if she knows that you're in love with her?"
Andrea's jaw dropped.
"To answer your question, no, she hasn't mentioned anything along those lines. And it's not obvious to the naked eye, either. I just do this sort of thing for a living."
"Okay, so, um, sometimes she can be sort of flirtatious. Maybe that's not the right word. Like, today, this morning, we both fell asleep upstairs and I was sort of curled behind her and she told me that she 'didn't dislike the proximity'—I don't know how I can respond to that kinda thing."
Stuart chuckled. "She actually did tell me about the nap, but she failed to include that comment. I've only known her for a few months, but it seems a very Miranda thing to say, doesn't it?"
"Totally. I guess I'm just trying to be careful, because I know that people in rehab aren't supposed to have relationships or anything like that, but—s"
"I will stop you right there. That is not a general rule. Many inpatient programs will discourage relationships among the patients, but preexisting relationships are never discouraged unless they are somehow contributing to the patient's substance abuse or poor mental health. Does that make sense?"
"So, since I don't have a preexisting relationship with her, where does that leave me?"
"You do, though. You've known each other for years. You worked for her, you became her friend." When Andrea didn't reply, he continued. "You are both adults. If you chose to embark upon a romantic relationship, neither I nor Jennifer are going to stop you. If it becomes a problem for Miranda's recovery, we will address it then. Recovery isn't realistic if you remove naturally occurring relationships and events. For example, I encouraged her to have her daughters over, even to have them move back. Normalcy is a good thing for her—and I suppose for you, too."
"Huh. Okay."
"By the way, how have your nightmares been?" Stuart asked.
"Better. It really helps to see her doing so well. Or, I mean, she looks healthy and smiles and laughs, and that helps me replace that awful image in my mind."
"Good. I am very glad to hear that," he said.
Andrea excused herself to the kitchen where she busied herself baking chicken breasts, chopping vegetables, and rinsing lettuce for salad. By the time she was finished, Miranda had just walked into the kitchen.
"Can I help with anything?"
"Pour the drinks?" she said, carrying their salads to the table. "I'll just have water, but there's some sparkling lemonade if you want."
Miranda returned to the table with two glasses of water. "This looks delicious."
"Hope so," Andrea said. "How did it go today?"
"Good."
"What was the point of being in your room?"
Miranda ate a forkful of lettuce. "I'm trying to 'unlearn' behaviors and replace them with new ones. Today, it was my habit of reaching for drugs when I'm working late in bed."
"Oh. I—I didn't know."
Miranda took another bite of lettuce and worried that she had been to open with the woman. "She wants me to keep mints or candy or gum there instead."
"But I thought we got rid of the blue box?" Andrea said.
Miranda reached out and put her hand on the young woman's arm. "We did—you did. I'm talking about a candy dish on the shelf in its place. And some in my nightstand so I can unlearn the walk to the closet."
"I'm sorry," Andrea said, shaking her head. "I feel like I've just asked you some really personal questions and it's not fair."
"Andrea, look at me," Miranda said. "I don't share any information I don't want to share. If it's too personal, I won't answer. I'll just look at you as if you have four heads. Fair?"
The young woman chuckled. "Okay. Yes. Thank you. And I think the saying is two heads, not four," she added.
"Then my gaze will just be twice as intense."
The two women laughed and finished lunch over much lighter conversation. Later that evening, after Miranda arranged for her daughters to come for dinner and a movie on Saturday, Miranda gently knocked on Andrea's bedroom door.
"Come in!" she called. She was sitting in bed, reading a book.
Miranda leaned against the doorframe. "Can I come in?"
Andrea nodded and set her book down, patting the space on the bed next to her, and Miranda joined her.
"Today was strange, and I just want to make sure everything is okay between us. I briefly forgot that I hadn't shared any of the CBT stuff with you yet, and I saw the look on your face when I brought up my old habits. It was the look I've only ever seen from you at the hospital. I apologize for not being more sensitive when I discussed that."
"Can we agree it's neither of our faults? Yes, it absolutely freaked me out at first, but then I remembered that's the whole point of the therapy. I really like when you share details with me. I hope my reaction won't stop you from doing so in the future."
"It won't stop me. You have my word."
Andrea smiled. "Thank you."
"Stuart mentioned he talked to you earlier. Are you doing okay? I know it's been hard for you, too."
"It was nothing. I'm fine," Andrea said.
"If it's about the nightmares or whatever, you can talk to me. I'm not fragile."
"It's not the nightmares. Seeing you like this, healthy and smiling and peaceful—it's very effective at erasing that image that haunted me for a while."
"Oh darling," Miranda said, biting her lip and blushing. "I'm sorry, that just slipped."
"It's okay. As long as you're not calling me hurtful names, I don't mind."
Miranda pinched the bridge of her nose. "You were never 'fat' and I should never have said that to you."
"What about 'insolent twat' or the 'lowliest' of your staff?"
"Andrea, please believe me. I wish I could go back and not say those things, especially to you. You never, ever deserved any of that. I feel a lot of guilt around this, my words and actions when I was dependent on that drug. I am slowly working through it with Stuart. I know it's not enough to blame the drug. I have culpability in it, too. You have been nothing but kind and caring and supportive and understanding and just a wonderful, beautiful friend to me. I don't take that for granted—not anymore."
"I forgive you, if that helps. I think I always knew that it wasn't you saying those things. I should be the one apologizing for bringing that up before you're ready."
"No, please, don't you see? I need this normal conversation. You're my friend, not my therapist. I don't want you to walk on eggshells around me or worry that you might say the wrong thing. I want us to be able to talk openly, okay?"
Andrea slowly nodded her head. "That's sort of what I talked to Stuart about today. After we took that nap this morning, I sort of freaked out, as you saw, because I didn't know how I should respond."
Miranda nodded in understanding. "Can I ask what you were thinking about when you decided to join me? If you don't want to share, I understand."
"It's fine. I was thinking about how healthy you looked. How much better you looked. I was overwhelmed, and I just wanted to hug you so badly, but you were asleep, and I didn't want to wake you. I shouldn't have invaded your personal space without asking," Andrea said.
"Thank you for sharing that," Miranda said. "I was never a hugger, and I've never spent much time around people who are—that is, until you. And you know what? I love it. I love being hugged. It's a sort of platonic, physical connection that I've been missing for so many years of my life. So, let me just say, you can hug me whenever you want, no need to ask my permission."
Andrea's face lit up. "Really?" she asked.
"Really," Miranda said, laughing as Andrea practically lunged at her with a big hug.
"I'm really glad we are friends, Miranda."
"I am, too," she said, smiling and squeezing Andrea's hand. "Oh! I forgot, the reason I wanted to talk to you. I talked with James. Caroline and Cassidy are coming over Saturday for dinner, and then they'll stay and watch a movie before James picks them up."
"I'm so glad, Miranda. This will be so good for all of you."
"I know. I can't wait to have them back home, even if it's just for a few hours. But I wanted to tell you that they know you're staying with me. James told them a while ago, and they said you were 'the Harry Potter one,' whatever that means. They like you. I was thinking maybe you'd like to join us? There's two of them and one of me, so if you're worried about stealing attention away or anything, just don't."
"Can I think about it?"
"Sure. Of course. At a minimum, I want you to know that you don't need to hide or leave the house while they are here."
"Thanks. I appreciate that. Oh, and I don't think I ever told you this, but when I saw a Harry Potter game on one of their Christmas lists, I managed to have a friend who knows the cover artist sneak me a copy of the unpublished manuscript. I had two copies made and bound and gave it to them before they left with James to visit their grandparents."
"No wonder they speak so highly of you," Miranda said. "You are something else, you know?"
"Are you going in tomorrow?"
"I'm planning to."
"Okay. Coffee and breakfast at 7:30," Andrea said.
"Goodnight, you."
"Goodnight, Miranda."