Chapter Four
For the second time in one week, the three employees exchanged expressions of shock.
"P-pregnant? A baby?" Andrea asked.
Miranda leaned against Emily's desk and nodded, "I was shocked, too. Still am, clearly."
"Here, come sit, Miranda," Nigel said, leading her to the sofa in her office. "Andrea will bring you some decaffeinated coffee," he said, turning and glaring at her.
"Right. Of course," she said, jumping into action and sprinting out the door.
"Nigel, really. I'm okay," Miranda said. "We have a lot of work to do before August. At least it explains why I've been so tired lately. I'm going to try and leave by 6 PM."
Nigel nodded and stepped away.
"Nigel, I know you're still upset about James Holt, but trust me. Think of this—now, you'll have the opportunity to do several issues on your own."
"Miranda, I—"
"Nigel, I need you for the next six months. If you can't give me that, let me know right now."
"I can, and I will. Six months and more. You're one of my most longtime best friends, and you've been my mentor for the past eighteen years," he said. "Whatever you need."
Miranda leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, then pulled him in for a hug.
"Since when do you hug?" Nigel asked.
"Oh, uh, um," Miranda stammered. "I guess it's just those hormones, huh?" she said with a shrug. But there was no denying that Nigel saw the blush creeping up her face.
"Who's the father?" he whispered in her ear.
"Nigel, I would have expected a bit more tact from you. That is none of your business."
Andrea ran in, out of breath, with a fresh decaf latte and quietly set it on Miranda's desk.
"Miranda, when you have a second, I need an answer on Testino," Nigel said.
"Oh, I saw that note in the car. Let's go with the plum-to-orchid transition, don't you think?"
"That was the one I was thinking, too. I'll let them know," he said, marching back to his office.
"Andrea? Come back here and close the door," Miranda said.
She did, and she walked closer, her eyes fixed on the ground.
"Andrea, is something wrong?"
"No," she said, shaking her head. During the few minutes she spent getting coffee, she realized two things: first, that Miranda's relationship with Stephen apparently wasn't over, and second, that the bliss following this past weekend would be very short-lived. "Was there something you needed?" she asked.
"Have a seat," Miranda said. She walked around her desk and sat opposite her. "Andrea, darling, you look like you've been crying." Miranda reached out for her hands. "What happened?"
"It's nothing, please. I have a lot of work to do today," she said. The last thing she wanted to do was complain. She should have known Miranda would tire of her and find something else in a heartbeat.
"Okay, I won't push you," Miranda said, "but, will you at least talk to me tonight?"
Andrea's eyes widened.
"You are still coming over, right? The girls were disappointed to know they missed you this weekend."
"Sure. I'll be over when the Book is ready."
"Actually, that reminds me. I'm going to talk to Roger. Donna was telling me about this new software where I would be able to view a digital edition and actually make notes with a stylus or put virtual post-its. I'm going to see if he can set that up—it should save everyone some time, and hopefully we can get that setup today."
"Oh, okay. So, 6:30 then?"
"Yes, Andrea, that's fine," Miranda said, gently kissing her hand. "Do you want to see the sonogram?" Miranda asked. "I'm already eleven weeks."
Andrea shook her head as she did the math. At least it felt a little better knowing that this happened before Paris, and may have well been over before Miranda showed interest in her. "Maybe later," she said. She was clearly spending too much time thinking about this. The sooner she found a new job, the better.
Miranda sat back and pulled her hands away. "Andrea, darling, this isn't like you," she said. "Talk to me."
"Later. Tonight, okay?"
"Okay," Miranda said. "Is there something else going on—you, your family? You would tell me if there was anything serious, right?"
Andrea flashed a fake smile. "Everything's fine. Don't worry. Stress isn't good for the baby," she added.
When Andrea stood, Miranda quickly followed her, firmly taking her wrist and dragging her into the corner of her office that was out of view of the doorway. Miranda practically pinned her against the wall. "Andrea, this is one of the happiest moments of my life and you're throwing a tantrum. Tell me what is going on," she said.
Andrea started to cry. "I'm sorry," she said, covering her face with her free hand. "I'm not trying to spoil your moment. I just—things were going good, you know? With the divorce, I thought we could—and I was willing to wait—I just—I'm sorry. I'm happy for you, really. Congratulations."
"Is this jealousy rearing its ugly head, Andrea? Are you concerned that you will have to share my attention? Honestly, I expect that from Cassidy but I would have never thought you—"
"No! Not that. I just—things were good with us. It felt like we were going somewhere, didn't it?" Andrea said.
"Yes. And it is going somewhere unless something has changed in the past two days? Please don't tell me that you want nothing to do with a pregnant fifty-year-old."
Andrea's eyes widened. "But—what about Stephen?"
"What on earth does he have to do with anything?"
"Isn't—isn't he the—"
"The father? No," Miranda said with a chuckle. "Most definitely not."
"But then—how—?"
"Andrea, you know perfectly well how babies are made. I have no intention of disclosing the father. I'm sorry, but that is all I will say about it," she said. "Now, if you will get over your imaginary jealousy, will you enjoy this moment with me?"
Andrea smiled and hugged Miranda tight. "I'm sorry, yes, yes. Show me the sonogram," she said. "And wait, I thought you had an appointment with your regular doctor."
"I did," Miranda said. She smiled and walked back to her desk, fishing the photo out of her bag. "She sent me across the street to my obstetrician, which is why I was gone so long. Here," she said, smiling proudly as she handed the small paper to her.
"Miranda, this says 'Twin A' and 'Twin B'—is this—?"
"Yes. It's twins."
Andrea softly brushed her finger across the tiny photograph. Turning to Miranda, she cupped her cheek and kissed her slowly.
Miranda pulled away with a glassy look in her eye. "Andrea, I—"
A knock at the door startled both women. Andrea quickly wiped the smudged lipstick off Miranda's lip, then took a few tissues and blew her nose, running out of the office and making it look like Miranda made her cry.
"Miranda, I have Mario on the phone," Emily said.
"Put him through," she said, returning to her desk.
That evening, as Andrea was bringing the dry-cleaning to Miranda's, she tried to picture what a life with Miranda would actually look like. A knock on the town car's window brought her out of her daydream.
"Andy, Mom wants to know why you're still out here," Caroline said.
Andrea smiled and opened the door. "I was daydreaming, sorry."
Caroline shrugged and marched back up the stairs, Andrea close on her heels.
"Sweetie, where's your mom?" she asked after hanging up the dry-cleaning.
"Up in her office, come on," Caroline said, grabbing her hand and tugging her upstairs.
"Oh, there you are," Miranda said, standing from her desk. "Girls, why don't you go finish your homework in your rooms. Mommy needs to talk to Andrea for a little bit."
The girls grabbed their backpacks and headed upstairs while Miranda joined Andrea on the recently vacated sofa. "Where were we this afternoon? Before Emily interrupted us?" she asked, reaching up and brushing Andrea's cheek.
Andrea smiled and leaned into her palm. "I think you were telling me how happy you were," she said.
"Ah, yes, and your jealousy was showing," she said with a smirk.
"I know, I'm sorry. Let's change the subject," she said. "How are you doing?"
Miranda leaned back against the sofa and crossed her arms across her abdomen. "I'm feeling great," she said. "It explains why I've been so tired lately, and, well now," she shook her head, "I feel really good. And I'm really excited for this pregnancy."
Andrea smiled. "What did the doctor say? Did she do a full exam?"
"Well, she was a little less thrilled because of my age and my difficulties with the girls, but she said everything seemed perfect. Both embryos measured 1.5" crown-to-rump."
"What happened with the girls?"
"I wasn't ready. James and I were practically separated. It was an exciting but very busy time for the magazine. I basically tried to ignore the fact that I was pregnant until my doctor admitted me to the hospital for mandatory bed rest. I just wasn't ready. Every one of my symptoms was simply an inconvenience," she said. "But once those tiny, tiny babies were born, I regretted not taking better care of myself."
"Were they premature?"
"Yes. At thirty-one weeks, and they were very small, just over four pounds. Cassidy was my 'twin B' and it was something about the way she was twisting around. She had wrapped the cord around herself and she was in distress. They did an emergency cesarean, and the girls were on respirators and feeding tubes for weeks. I couldn't even hold them. They were in the hospital for the entire length of my maternity leave. I can't help but think if I did it differently…"
"Don't think like that, Miranda. They turned out perfect," Andrea said.
"I know. I know. Dr. Assaf reminded me of all the risks I face with this pregnancy, and I think she was even trying to ask if I wanted to terminate it, since I still have a few weeks." She paused for a few minutes. "Do you think I'm being selfish? Putting my own life at risk for this?"
"You're—you're asking me?"
Miranda nodded.
"I don't know. I think you have every right to want these babies, and I want you to know I'll support you, whichever you decide."
Miranda leaned her head on Andrea's shoulder and grasped her hand. "I appreciate that, but honestly, I don't see a decision. There are two healthy babies in here," she said, cupping her abdomen, "and I would do anything for my children, you know that."
"I do. And I think that doctors sometimes scare us with all the possible complications just to cover their asses."
"Andrea, have I ever told you how smart you are?" Miranda said.
"Actually," Andrea laughed, "you did."
Miranda's eyes widened as she remembered. "Darling, I should never have said that. You are not 'fat'—you're perfect. In a few months, though, I think I'll be falling into that category."
"You? Never. Maybe more voluptuous, sexier, and luscious, but never fat."
Miranda chuckled and pulled Andrea's chin closer. "I have a feeling you're going to need to keep telling me that for the next few months," she whispered before closing the distance between their lips.
The following week, Miranda's excitement over the pregnancy had died down some, but there was still an anxious buzz in the air. Emily was busy ensuring Miranda's diet included enough calcium, vitamin D, and folic acid, while Andrea continued to work on her writing samples and network during her down time.
The book was now being delivered electronically to Miranda's iPad every evening, and the dry-cleaning was delivered every Monday afternoon. Miranda was working from home on Fridays and spending Wednesday mornings with her yoga instructor. She had also reached out privately to several designers about a Spring/Summer maternity collection.
On Friday morning, February 14th, there was a knock at Miranda's front door.
"Delivery for Ms. Priestly," the man said. But Miranda couldn't see him, because he was hiding behind eight dozen roses.
"Just put them in here," Miranda said, showing him to the dining room table. She signed for the delivery and closed the door. Looking through them, they were arranged into four pre-cut bouquets: yellow roses from Cassidy, pink roses from Caroline, a beautiful mix of multi-colored roses from Andrea, and white roses from 'A & B'.
The gesture brought tears to Miranda's eyes, and she went straight to the phone to call Andrea.
"Hi, Miranda."
Miranda sniffled. "Andrea, thank you," she said. "They're beautiful."
"I'm glad you like them. The girls helped me pick out the colors. I've missed you lately."
"Same here," she said. "I wish we had more time when the girls aren't home, but as it is, I only see them for about four hours a day during the week. And it takes everything out of me to stay awake with my precious girls…"
"Wait, are you crying?"
"Yes. Andrea, you warm my heart to no end. You didn't say anything to the girls about the babies, did you?"
"No, no no. That's not my place. They think the white ones are from Patricia."
"Okay. I want to wait another month before I say anything. Darling, come over and work from the townhouse for the rest of the day," she said.
"I'm having lunch with Maureen Dowd at 12:30, but I can come afterwards," Andrea said.
"Oh right, I forgot. That's fine. Don't rush your lunch, I'll be here. What are you wearing?"
"Calvin Klein pre-fall charcoal pencil skirt, emerald silk Theory blouse, and Tory Burch black flats. I might add a skinny leopard belt."
"Excellent choices. Go with the Burberry belt instead of the one from J. Crew," Miranda said. "Maureen would be put off by anything bordering on outrageous. Simple accessories?"
"Gold Kors bracelet watch, nude nails, my grandmother's claddagh ring, and my Me&Ro pendant necklace."
"I can't wait to see you. Darling, I'm so proud of you. I don't know if I've said this before, but I feel like you've grown so much since you first started. You are quite an exceptional young woman."
"Thank you, Miranda. That means a lot coming from you. But I've got to go run some errands before lunch. Need anything?"
"No, I'll see you this afternoon."
Around 2:30 PM, Andrea arrived at the townhouse, her Kate Spade messenger bag nearly busting at the seams.
"Andrea?" Miranda called from the study.
"Yes, it's just me."
"How did lunch go?"
"It was great. I think she really liked me. She introduced me to Bill, her editor who was also at Pastis. Are you in the study?" Andrea asked as she made her way up the stairs.
"No, I'm in bed."
Andrea rushed into the bedroom, and was relieved to see Miranda propped up on some pillows, playing with her iPad. "I brought you some stuff," she said, tossing her bag on the bed.
"First let me look at you," Miranda said. "Turn around."
Andrea pirouetted next to the bed for Miranda.
"Come here," Miranda said, tugging her to the bed. She snaked her hand behind Andrea's head and unpinned her hair before kissing her. As their lips were locked, Miranda's hands found the other woman's hips and nudged her towards the bed. Without breaking their kiss, Miranda maneuvered Andrea onto her back. "I might not be able to do this much longer," she said, "and darling, I want to taste you so badly."
Andrea's eyes widened and she shuddered.
"First, let me take these clothes off you. You look too much like a naughty secretary, and, well," Miranda chuckled, "that's a bit too close to the truth right now."
Andrea moaned as Miranda cupped her breast through her bra. "I'm only…" she panted, "naughty…for you."
Miranda made quick work of her clothing and slipped out of her own.
Andrea couldn't help but notice how tightly those drawstring lounge pants had been pulled against her abdomen. When she kneeled, Andrea noticed the growing bump, though she didn't have a chance to say anything once Miranda's fingers began pumping in and out of her dripping folds. "Oh god, Miranda!" she cried.
Miranda slithered down her body until she was laying on her stomach, between the woman's legs. She held her folds open with one hand and began anxiously lapping at her juices with her tongue, moaning and humming in delight.
Andrea was assaulted with the dual sensations of Miranda's lips and the arousing sounds she was making. She reached down and threaded her fingers through Miranda's hair, which only elicited a louder moan from the silver-haired woman.
As Miranda's licking grew more desperate, Andrea felt her nose bumping into her clitoris, and she began thrusting her hips wildly, searching for contact.
"Tell me what you need," Miranda purred.
"My clit, oh god, please!"
Miranda repositioned herself, throwing Andrea's legs over her shoulders. With her right hand, she reached down to rub herself while her lips and tongue attacked Andrea's engorged clitoris. She sucked it out of its hood, and softly bit down until she felt Andrea's body quaking in orgasm.
She pulled herself up, running her hands along the young woman's body until she reached her shoulders. She straddled her lap and kissed her as her muscles erupted in pleasure. Miranda peeled the bunched-up sheets from Andrea's hand and placed her hands onto her own hips. "Touch me," Miranda whispered as she licked the shell of Andrea's ear.
Andrea ran her hands up and down Miranda's back, then reached around and palmed her breasts.
"Ohhh, no, no," she gasped, "not there. They're too sensitive."
"Sorry," Andrea whispered, pressing several light kisses to her neck. She moved her hands away, cupping her buttocks, and then the back of her thighs.
"Andrea, I'm so close," Miranda said, panting in her ear.
She slipped her hand between their bodies and applied pressure at Miranda's juncture. After a few quick thrusts, Miranda was choking out her orgasm into Andrea's neck.
They laid like that for several minutes, Miranda sprawled out on top of Andrea—sweaty, sticky, and thoroughly satisfied.
Andrea gently nudged Miranda off, and turned to her side, entwining their legs. "Is this okay for the babies?" she asked as she pressed her palm to Miranda's belly.
"Mm-hmm. The doctor said as long as I didn't feel any pain, it was fine. I remember with the girls, once I popped, it was impossible to lay on my stomach," Miranda said. She turned onto her back and pulled Andrea on top of her, locking her feet behind Andrea's thighs. "It was also very uncomfortable for anyone to be on me like this."
Andrea tried to push her weight off Miranda, but the woman tugged her close.
"No. It's still okay," Miranda said. "I love feeling you like this. Your weight on me, like you're consuming me," she said. "Happy Valentine's Day, Andrea."
Andrea nodded and kissed Miranda before laying her head on her shoulder. They woke to the sound of Andrea's phone, and out of habit, Andrea jumped and ran for it.
Miranda chuckled. "I hope you know I'm the only one I expect you to do that for."
Andrea shrugged. "I'm technically still working this afternoon," she said, answering the call.
"Andrea! Where have you been?!"
"Hey Em, I had a lunch meeting, then Miranda asked me to deliver a few items to the townhouse."
"Bloody hell! Why didn't you tell anyone? Are you there? Miranda's not answering her phone."
"Emily, calm down. Yes, I'm here, and yes, Miranda is here, too. She's reviewing some of the advanced tablet functionality," Andrea said with a shrug.
Miranda smiled and gave Andrea a thumbs-up.
Andrea covered the mouthpiece on the receiver. "Miranda, Nigel wants to know if you saw the email from Testino's people."
"Give me that," Miranda said, taking the phone from Andrea.
"Emily, why is it so difficult for you to manage a simple task. I asked not to be disturbed this afternoon, so no, I did not see the email from Testino's people, nor do I have any intention of reading an email from anyone other than Mario himself. That's all," she said, ending the call.
Andrea laughed as Miranda put the phone on the nightstand. "Shower?"
Miranda nodded and followed Andrea into the bathroom. She was pleasantly surprised when Andrea took the initiative and began to wash her body before doing her own, although Miranda couldn't help but moan in pleasure as the young woman's delicate hands made their way across her sensitive skin.
"Andrea," she moaned. "How do you do this to me?" She rolled her head along her neck.
Without saying a word, Andrea shampooed and conditioned her hair, and rinsed it out. She did the same to her own, then pulled Miranda under the spray again as she softly cupped her breasts and trailed kisses down her neck. She pressed Miranda back against the marble tile, and the woman lifted her leg around Andrea's hip. Andrea reached down and began thrusting two fingers inside her until she felt the woman's muscles gripping her tightly. When she recovered, Andrea again washed between her legs, then led her out of the shower, wrapping her tightly in a towel.
Once they dried off, Miranda sat on the edge of her bed while Andrea changed into leggings and a tee. "Andrea," she said as she wrapped her arms around her abdomen, "I don't have anything to wear."
"Well, I'm all for you wearing nothing at all," she said with a wink, "but don't worry. I brought something for you," she said. "Here," she said, picking up her messenger bag from the floor. She pulled out two pairs of stretchy pants, a skirt, two wrap blouses, and a jar of cream.
"Until the designers finish their collections for you," Andrea said, handing her a pair of pants. "These have a looser waistband, and those skirts should fasten below your belly.
Miranda picked up the items and examined them. "Where did you find these?"
"Don't hate me," Andrea said. "Target."
Miranda glared at her, but her expression wavered and a smile formed on her lips. "Thank you," she said.
Andrea smiled. "I'm going to dry my hair," she said, heading back into the bathroom. When she returned, Miranda was dressed, sitting indian-style on the bed, holding the jar of cream in her hands.
"Do you think I look too old?" Miranda asked.
"What? No. Not at all," Andrea quickly answered.
"Why did you bring this?" she asked, holding the jar. "It's anti-aging, wrinkle cream."
"I read it's really good at preventing stretch marks," Andrea said. "I'm sorry. I snagged the sample from the beauty department. It's made with platinum, and there's something about the way it bonds with human skin, it keeps it toned and moisturized, even with changes in humidity."
"Yes, I've heard about this," she said. "I'm already seeing some stretch marks on my breasts," Miranda said. "Is this your way of saying you want them gone?"
"Oh my god, don't even start," Andrea said, taking the jar from her hands. "This is my way of saying I want to slather thousand-dollar cream all over your gorgeous, sexy body," Andrea said.
Miranda grinned and lifted off her shirt, then unclasped her bra. "Well, I suggest you start here," she said, leaning back against the pillows. "This area is in dire need of your attention."
Sunday evening, Andrea was watching the news when her phone rang.
"Hi Miranda," she said.
"Andrea, how are you?"
"Good. Is everything okay?"
"Yes. I have a doctor's appointment on Friday," Miranda said. "I was wondering if you'd like to join me."
"Really?"
"Yes. I mean, it's nothing special. It's still too early to tell the babies' sex or anything, but it's the thirteen-week mark, and the doctor wants to monitor their growth closely," she said.
"Yes, I'd love to come, Miranda."
"I don't want you to feel obligated or anything, I just thought—"
"Miranda, listen to me," Andrea said. "I want to be there. I am so grateful that you're sharing this journey with me. I will be there for all of it if you'll have me."
Miranda sniffled. "Andrea, I don't know what to say."
"Don't say anything," she said, wishing she was there to hug Miranda. "Don't say anything at all."
TBC