After running nearly five miles, Miranda took advantage of the open bench in the park, stretching her calves before taking a seat.
"You okay?" Cassidy asked, taking a seat next to her.
Miranda was leaning forward, her elbows resting on her knees as she hung her head. "I'm fine. I just need a few minutes."
"I'm going to grab us some water over there," she said, gesturing at the coffee shop nestled along the trail. When she returned, she handed Miranda a bottle of water.
"Cass, are you upset that I haven't gone back to work?"
"Huh? No. Why would I be upset?" Cassidy said.
"Well, it's just that I'm not setting a good example for you girls," Miranda said.
"Mom, are you serious? I can't believe you're talking like this." She paused. "Does this have anything to do with the letter from Andy?"
Miranda looked up in surprise and met Cassidy's eyes. "Yes."
"Ugh! How dare she upset you like that!"
"Calm down, she wasn't being mean. She just has this way of making me feel like I made a really bad decision, like she would be disappointed in me…which is ridiculous because, well—"
"Mom," Cassidy said, gently resting her hand on her shoulder, "you really love her, don't you?"
"Yes," Miranda said breathlessly. Tears began streaming down her cheeks. "I do. But I see how I've hurt her, and I'm afraid nothing can fix that."
"What really happened between you two?" she asked.
"Sweetie, maybe I'll tell you someday when you're older," Miranda said, sighing and sitting back against the bench.
"Come on, I'm almost fifteen!"
"No."
Cassidy huffed and sat back, crossing her arms across her chest. "Did you make a bad decision?"
"What? Oh. Yes, I'm afraid so," Miranda said quietly. "At the time, it seemed right."
"So, apologize. Explain. Admit your mistake," Cassidy said. "You know, those three things you hate to do."
Miranda smirked and looked over at her daughter. "If only it were that easy…I would have done it years ago."
"Can you at least tell me why you never write back to her? Why you threw all those papers into the fire pit last year?"
"Sweetheart, I said, it's not easy. I thought that if I didn't have anything to remind me of her, I would be able to forget everything. Another poor decision, I suppose." Minutes passed as they sat in silence. "It's already dark out," Miranda said, "let's get a cab back."
Meanwhile, Caroline spent the evening searching through her mother's things, attempting to locate what she knew to be her mother's favorite notebook. Finally, she found it tucked under Miranda's pillow. She opened it to where a pen was tucked inside, and instantly knew she found what she was looking for.
Caroline photocopied the journal pages before carefully tucking the notebook back in its hiding place. Hearing the front door open, she quickly folded the paper and stuffed it into an envelope. "Mom? Cass?" she called.
"I'm going to go up and shower," Miranda said, quickly sailing up the stairs and into her room.
"Okay, what happened?" Caroline asked.
"We had a good run, then Mom kind of got emotional about Andy. Before you ask, no, she wouldn't tell me what happened. Did you find the letter?"
"Yeah. Mom wrote it in her notebook. I only read the first and last sentences, but I think we need to send it."
"Okay. I'll drop it off at Andy's work tomorrow during my free period," Cassidy said.
"Hey Andy," Erin said, walking over to her desk. "Someone just dropped this off for you. Using teenagers as informants now, are we?"
Andrea looked up from her computer, "Huh?"
"Nevermind. But you should open it. The young girl who delivered it was particularly insistent that it be delivered to an Ahn-dré-ah Sachs."
Andrea gulped. "Uhh, thanks, Erin. I'll take it," she said, reaching out for the envelope.
Once her coworker walked away, Andrea opened the envelope and pulled out a stack of papers, the scent of which made her eyes flutter. She quickly tucked the papers back inside and grabbed her bag, rushing out of the office.
"I've gotta go," she said. "I'll call you tonight!
Andrea rushed out the door and quickly hailed a cab. She needed to sit down when she read this, and she certainly didn't have the patience to run home. After giving her address to the driver, she studied the envelope in her lap. It wasn't Miranda's handwriting on the front, and that made Andrea curious. Did she really have her assistant send this? she wondered.
Taking a deep breath, she again opened the envelope and pulled out the top sheet of paper, which was folded in half. Opening it, she was surprised to see a note from Miranda's daughters.
Hey Andy,
Mom doesn't know we're sending this to you…
On Friday she got a mysterious package—it looked like someone found a folder of yours at an airport and sent it to Mom because there was a letter addressed to her inside. She knows you didn't intend for her to see it, but the letter clearly meant something to her. And because she's so stubborn, she won't bring herself to tell you she screwed up before.
You know she'd kill us if she knew what we're doing, but we can't sit by and watch her like this anymore. Since she read a letter she wasn't supposed to see, we only figured it was fair if you had the same chance. Please—we know Mom misses you.
Hope to see you again soon,
Cassidy and Caroline Priestly
Andrea read and reread the note as it all settled in. Her missing document pouch. The letter she hastily wrote on the flight. Miranda screwed up. The girls couldn't sit and watch her anymore. Miranda misses her. Miranda screwed up?
It took every ounce of willpower to keep from tearing open the envelope and reading whatever they sent, but she waited until she had privacy. Opening the door of her apartment, she tore the sheets from the envelope and leaned back against the doorframe. Andrea gasped as she softly began tracing her fingertips over Miranda's handwriting.
Dearest Andrea,
Oh god, how I miss saying your name, Andrea. I love you. And I miss you. Nothing is the same since we parted, but then again, nothing has really changed. I'm still not working, a stay-at-home-mom I guess you could say. Oftentimes, I wish I had gone back to work just to give myself something to take my mind off of things…off of you.
Last week I received a package containing some of your documents. The sender was trying to return them, but it appears the only address he or she had was mine. I read the letter. You were always so honest—especially with your feelings. I suppose it's time for me to be honest, too. It's the least you deserve.
Your letter brought tears to my eyes—not because it was touching and heartfelt—because it was painful and heartbreaking. Until now, I didn't realize how deeply I had hurt you, how much our relationship affected you. Andrea, it affected me, too.
Five years ago, I thought it was the right thing to do. I was much older than you, so it was my responsibility to look out for your best interests, to ensure you have the opportunity to live your life and to be happy. I thought if I ignored your calls and emails and letters, you would forget about me as soon as someone else came along—and, since I'm being honest, I thought I could make myself forget about you, too. Well, I was wrong.
No matter what I did, I couldn't forget about you, and apparently you couldn't forget me, either. I think what was most painful about reading your letter was the guilt it evoked in me, that sense of knowing that I caused you, who means so much to me, that much pain. It was unbearable.
You once compared me to a mango, do you remember that? Said I had this tough skin, a hidden, unbreakable core, but behind the skin I was all mushy. I remember being appalled at the time, but it was true. Now, I think I'm more along the lines of an overripe mango… The point is that you knew me better than anyone else. Others were comparing me to ice or fire, but you compared me to a soft, sweet, exotic fruit.
Oh Andrea, I love you so much. I miss you, but I know it's my own fault you're gone.
I was worried what others would think, what your parents would say, what the tabloids would do. No one cares about what I do with my life anymore. My spot on Page Six has since been replaced with Kardashians. None of it matters.
And just to clarify, while our brief relationship may have felt more like a fantasy, it was real. I could barely keep it together that night you stopped by. If you would have so much as whispered in my ear, kissed me, pinned me against the banister—anything—I would have done whatever you asked. Anything. Just one word, one touch, one breath—it would have pushed me over the edge. Oh god, how I miss your hands on me, your lips on my skin.
Andrea, I love you. I want you so badly I cannot focus. I want you back, except that you were never mine. Now, all I have is hope... xx Mira
"Hey, Mom."
"Hello, girls. How was school?" Miranda asked as the girls both went straight up the stairs to their rooms. "Hello? Do you not have two minutes to talk to me?"
"Sorry," Cassidy said, turning and taking a seat on the stairs. Miranda joined her "School was good. I have a midterm in AP US History tomorrow, so I kind of want to spend as much time as possible studying for that."
Miranda leaned over and kissed Cassidy on the forehead. "You go and study. I'll bring you something for dinner in a little while. I'm so proud of you, sweetheart," she said.
Cassidy smiled and trotted off to her bedroom.
"And how was your day?" Miranda asked Caroline. "Is it just me or does Cass seem on edge?"
"Uhh, I don't know. I mean, I didn't notice, no. My day was fine. Just a little bit of Pre-Calc homework I was going to work on with Jessica later," Caroline said. "Do you want me to help with dinner or anything?"
Miranda eyed her daughter suspiciously. "No, I already made the chicken and croissant dish you girls like. There's something you aren't telling me," she said.
"Huh? Me? No. I mean, I'm like an open book, Mom. I tell you everything," she said nervously.
Miranda pursed her lips. "Okay, but you would tell me if it was anything important, right?" she asked. "Right?"
"Right. Of course," Caroline said, turning to head up to her room.
"I love you, Caroline."
"Love you, too, Mom."
After dinner, the girls were loading the dishwasher when the doorbell rang. Miranda ran to see who was there while Caroline and Cassidy exchanged a knowing look.
"Oooh!" Miranda gasped, her voice echoing throughout the house.
"Mom?" the girls called, rushing into the foyer.
Miranda was standing inches in front of the door, her hand clasped across her mouth, white as a ghost. Again, the doorbell chimed.
"Are you going to answer it?" Caroline asked.
Miranda opened her mouth to speak, but she was frozen and couldn't utter a single word.
"I'll just tell them to come back later," Cassidy said, pushing her way towards the door.
"No," Miranda whispered. "I—let her in."
Cassidy opened the door, smiling brightly when she saw a puffy-eyed Andrea. "Andy! We haven't seen you in a while. Come on in," she said.
Caroline had walked Miranda into the sitting room, and Cassidy followed close behind with Andrea. "Can I get you anything? Mom? Water?" Cassidy asked.
"A glass of water would be fine, thank you," Andrea said, taking a seat in the chair opposite Miranda.
The girls swiftly left the room Cassidy poured two glasses of water while her sister ran upstairs and retrieved their book bags.
"Uh, Mom, we're going to Jessica's to finish studying. We'll be home by 10, okay?" Caroline said while Cassidy set the glasses on the coffee table.
Miranda nodded, and the girls quickly left the house.
"Miranda—"
"Andrea—" they began simultaneously.
TBC.