Chapter 2.
"Mom, you must come and see the trailer behind the barn. We've worked it all out! You and Andy can have the bedroom, and we can sleep on the beds in the main room. There's tons of space!"
Cassidy and Caroline had flung themselves enthusiastically into Miranda's arms the moment they and Jenny had met her at Cincinnati airport. Ever since then, though, they had both been showering her with information about their hatched plot for the whole New York family to move out to Ohio. Their masterplan seemed to be that the four of them would all live in an old static trailer behind the chicken house on Jenny and Richard's place.
Miranda could hardly prevent herself laughing as she and Jenny exchanged meaningful glances as they drove back to the little ranch, but the twins in the back seat were deadly serious.
"What have you done to bewitch my children? " Miranda demanded. "Ten days here, and they want to live with you for ever?"
"Don't worry, Miri. Once they get home, things will get back into proportion. We have had a great time with them both though. Thank-you for the gift of them. I reckon it's taken ten years off Richard, and Momma has been chasing them round like a spring lamb."
"No, I want to thank you, Jen. More than I can say. And especially for shielding them from the tabloids." Miranda kept her voice low as she sat in the front seat next to Jenny who was driving.
"It was nothing. We all loved the camping trip."
"Even Caroline?"
"Oh yes. She's a tougher cookie than you think underneath. Though she did make us check our boots for rattle-snakes every morning."
They drew up at the Sachs spread, and Miranda felt it was indeed rather like a second home. This was her third visit, and while she and Richard were still a little careful not to upset each other, she regarded Jennie just like a beloved older sister, not a prospective mother-in-law, and Momma treated her like a daughter.
The old lady came out of the front door to meet them as they parked the car. She was now walking firmly and straight without a cane, which was remarkable after less than six weeks since her hip replacement operation.
Miranda fell into her arms and allowed Momma to give her a bear-hug, and a kiss on both cheeks. "Darlin' girl! Welcome! But you've come on your own? Not brought our little cat-fish with you?"
"No, I asked her, but Andy said she needed to make sure all the wedding arrangements were perfect, and every day counts."
"About the wedding, Nigel phoned," said Jenny as they went inside, Caroline and Cassie clinging to their mother's arms. "He had a long conversation with the twins about your wedding outfit, and theirs. Caroline has gone very definite ideas apparently! But he also talked to me again about your bright idea of a photo shoot with me. It seems he's still planning to bring a film crew out here to embarrass me at work. I told him we can't include any of my young clients in the shots."
"No, of course not. But that's a great idea, to include your natural habitat! And maybe even Momma might agree to a portrait. She has a fascinating face, quintessential old America in so many ways."
It was lucky Momma had left the room to put some coffee on. Jenny wasn't sure if her mother would want to represent 'old America' through the pages of Runway.
But she knew what Miranda meant. Momma typified solid values of endurance, she'd been born in 1920 after all, and kindliness, and also thrift. She would die from shock if she really understood the cost of the clothes featured in Runway every month. She still wore the same raincoat she had when Jennie was a young working mother, dropping off her younger children with her every day, more than twenty years before. It made Jenny remember something she wanted to ask Miranda.
"Miri darling, can you have a chat with Mom to help her choose a suitable outfit for your wedding while you're here. She thinks she'll wear the same knitted two-piece she came to your birthday party in. But that is at least five years old. She bought it for Margot's wedding. I think she deserves something new. Maybe you can help her look through the online stores with her? I know you haven't the time to take her into Cincinnati."
"Sure, of course I will. I would love to dress her."
They had their coffee, with the twins hopping impatiently from one foot to another, then Miranda gave in and let the girls take her on a tour of their new projects all over the site. They showed her the hen-hut they had repaired and renovated, and even painted up smartly for the young pullets bred from the hatching eggs.
All their new vocabulary of back-yard poultry keeping came tumbling out, and then Miranda had to admire a muddy pond on which a little clutch of ducklings were swimming, squeaking in answer to their mother's quacking. The smell of duck poo didn't seem to faze the girls at all, even though Miranda stepped very gingerly round the area.
From the duck-pond they then took their mother down to see the vegetable garden, where the rows of beans and peas they'd sown were peeping through the black earth. A complicated network of black thread and old CDs was arranged over the seedlings, to keep off the pigeons and other birds.
"Grandpa Richard showed us how to do it. We went through his old collection of CDs. Honestly Mom, the man had some strange tastes in music!"
The piece de resistance of course was the barn where Miranda had collected apples the previous Fall, and here the girls wanted to show Miranda their horses, both beautifully groomed, with oiled hooves and plaited manes. Andy's old pony Patches hadn't collapsed from fatigue from being ridden so often thank goodness, but he was dozing contentedly in his stall, next to the little mare Richard had borrowed from the neighbours for Caroline to ride.
"It's so tragic. We will have to take out their braids this afternoon. They have to both go back to their neighbours' place tomorrow," said Cassidy. "The grown-ups have all decided it will be better for them both to have each other for company, and there is more grazing over there. Of course if we lived here . . . "
"Darling, wonderful as your idea is, you know I have to get back to work soon, and that means we have to live in New York. And you enjoy Daltons' school, don't you. School is waiting there for you. It reopens tomorrow."
Her little girls, well, not so little any more, if she was honest, both looked close to tears. She tried to brighten their miserable faces.
"Come on, Andy is desperate to see you, and Matilda, and Pumpkin as well. We will all come back here in the summer. I promise."
"Really promise?"
"Cross my heart."
"Oh well then. And we'll see Granny Jen and Momma and Grandpa at your wedding, won't we?"
"Absolutely!"
"Oh O.K. But do come and look in the trailer. We've been using it as a den, and have decorated it with art-work. It's really swell!"
So Miranda allowed herself to be taken into the thirty year old trailer, sit down on the dusty sofa, and learn all about all the wonderful ways it could be converted into living space or bedroom. The wardrobe was exactly eighteen inches wide.
"Not a lot of hanging space," she suggested. "I don't think either of you could squeeze a tenth of your clothes in here." She didn't even mention her long walk-in closet which housed more clothes than the Universal Studios costume department.
Caroline reluctantly agreed, but said, "Granny Jen says less is sometimes better than more, you know. She says the new idea is to go for minimal . . . you know the word that means least stuff."
"Minimalism," muttered Cassidy. "Mommy, if we have to go back, can we take our art-work with us?"
"Of course," said Miranda, "Let me help you take your pictures down and we can put them all into a folder."
As she helped them pack up and tidy away their stuff from the trailer, she remembered her childhood, packing up her few possessions and moving from the children's home to one foster home, and then to another. Despite all appearances, Miranda did understand very well the concept of minimalism.
Their return flight was booked for 6pm, so there were several free hours after lunch, during which Miranda sat down next to Momma and gently steered the conversation round to clothes and what she might wear to the wedding.
"What are you wearing?" asked Momma, with a raised eye-brow. "Getting' all dolled up of course I suppose. Not that you need to, darlin'. You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, after my Jenny of course."
Miranda agreed. Jenny objectively was one of the handsomest women she had ever met. A quarter Cherokee, according to Momma, she had passed on her genes to Andy, but retained enough of them to make her easily fit in as a Runway model, She was tall, elegant, slim as a reed, and looked like she was descended from one of the crowned heads of Europe.
"Momma, you too, I want you to look as fabulous as you deserve. Don't you think Andy's wedding warrants a new outfit? The girls and I are wearing ice-blue. Maybe we can find something online which will complement that."
Miranda pulled out her IPad, and started to scroll down. She had a designer in mind who would exactly suit the older woman. She took note as well of Momma's preference for pants and a less feminine look.
"Here, how about this? See the model has silver hair, like yours. It's a pant suit in pale blue linen, with a long white linen shirt underneath. It would suit you no end, and I even know a classy little beauty salon up in Provincetown which would do your hair on the morning of the wedding. Would you like a hat or a crazy cap, or maybe even a fascinator to finish it all off?"
Momma knew she was being hustled along, but she secretly liked it. She basked under Miranda's charm.
"Don't you think I'm fascinatin' enough without all that stuff on my head? How much would it cost?" she asked.
"Oh money and fair words," said Miranda dismissively. "Don't worry. I get a discount with all these folks. It will be my pleasure to treat you."
"Well, if you think I should. I don't want to let Andy down on her big day."
"Of course you don't. So it's settled then. I get the clothes sent to you here before you know it."
Miranda made a mental note of Momma's size, an exercise as easy to her as counting to five, and they were finished. She left the elderly soul looking at the outfits on her IPad with astonished eyes, and went to find Jenny.
"All sorted! Expect a delivery in the next three days. Also, I want you, Richard and Momma to have the best rooms at the Inn, and Andrea can stay with you as well the night before. Charles, the twins and I can stay at the beach cottage. Have you booked in yet?"
Jenny said, "No, because we are waiting to have Hannah and Harry join us. But I'll book us in soon. The rest of the family are sorting themselves out. It's really generous of you Miri. I heard you tell Momma she doesn't have to worry about the cost of her outfit, but we can cover it, honestly."
"Oh Pooh!" retorted Miranda. "It gives me joy. Don't spoil it for me. You have given me the greatest gift of my life in the shape of your daughter. I still can't believe she has agreed to marry me."
Just then Cass and Caroline came down from their room, carrying Caroline's cello, a music stand and a sheaf of music.
"Mom, before we leave, can we give you all a little concert of the Christmas waltz we wrote and which Uncle Charles has arranged for us. He's going to play a second Cello part but this will give you an idea. We are going to play at your wedding, so you and Andy can lead off with the dancing."
The three women gathered together on the long sofa, and the girls tuned up, Cassidy sitting at the old family piano in the main living room. Then they stopped being little girls and turned into focused musicians. Cassidy started off on the key board, and then Caroline joined her on the cello. In six months she had started to produce a beautiful tone and perfect tuning.
The waltz they had written for Miranda, which had come as such a surprise to her at Christmas, was now transformed from piano duet into a wonderful cello and piano piece of music. When they finished they looked up with happy, rosy faces, and were shocked to see tears pouring down their mother's face.
"Mom! Sorry! Don't you like it?"
Miranda sought for a handkerchief and was so grateful when Jenny pushed one into her hand. Between sobs, she said, "Yes, darlings, I loved it when you first played it, and I love it even more now. I am so, so proud of you! I'm just overwhelmed."
"Don't cry, Mommy, don't cry." The girls rushed over and physically squashed Miranda into the sofa by sitting on her lap, both of them. Jenny congratulated them. "I know you've been practising it ever since your uncle faxed it through, but that really was exceptional. Everyone at the wedding will love it!"
Momma was quiet for a few moments, then said. "My, my, we sure are a musical family. Now let's go and have one last visit with the chooks before we have to pack you up and send you back to that old city." She could see Miranda was still fragile, and was also being seriously crushed by her offspring. The girls obeyed and stood up. Caroline packed her cello into its case and put it by the door ready to leave, and then they went out into the sunshine with Momma.
Jenny and Miranda sat quietly on the sofa together, and Jenny took her hand.
Miranda dried her tears as best she could.
"It's just, you know, just a little overwhelming all of it, to think how much I've been given, after so many years of suppressing the pain, or snapping and snarling at everyone to keep them away. It takes a bit of getting used to, being happy, and whole."
Jenny pulled her in against her shoulder, and let her rest there. "You deserve to be happy, every bit of it. Andy adores you, and with good reason. If I were gay, I would too, and that would be complicated!"
Miranda chuckled, and said, "Yes it would be. But as a friend, and as my lode-star, no-one could ever match you. This is the first time I've cried in months. I am healing, improving, learning to love myself, and so much of that is down to you as well as Andrea."
"What is she doing today? Do you want to call her?"
"She's gone into Runway to have a dress fitting with Nigel. He'll look after her. I am staying right out of it. It's traditional not to see the bride's dress, if you're the groom, which I suppose I sort of am. Lesbian weddings will be bound to develop a culture of their own though, as they become more common."
"Well her Dad is very keen to give her away."
"I know. Everything about the wedding should be perfect for her. I want her to look back and see it as the happiest day of her life. And what could go wrong?"
"What indeed. You have nothing to worry about."
And Miranda agreed. Nothing to worry about at all . . . .