Chapter Eight
"Miranda, we need to go if you want to get home before the girls," Andrea called from the front door. "Everything's already in the car."
"Can you come here for a minute?" Miranda called back.
Andrea sighed and set the keys down before taking the stairs two at a time. "Where are you?"
"Bathroom."
She quickly ran into the bathroom and froze when she saw Miranda on the floor on her hands and knees. "What's wrong?" she asked, kneeling next to the editor.
Miranda took a deep breath. "My back—sharp pains. Get me two Tylenol and a heating pad."
Andrea nodded and retrieved the tablets from the medicine cabinet, then handed them to Miranda with a glass of water. "Where's the heating pad?"
"Hall closet."
Thirty seconds later, she was plugging the electric pad into the nearest outlet and pressing it to Miranda's lower back. "What else can I do?" she asked, gently stroking her back.
Miranda took another deep breath. "Come sit in front of me. Distract me until the Tylenol kicks in."
"Are you sure you're okay—that this isn't contractions or something serious? Didn't the doctor tell you to call her if your pain lasted more than a few seconds?"
"Contractions peak and subside, and this isn't doing that. I have an appointment on Monday, I'll ask her then."
"Is it more comfortable kneeling like that?"
"Yes. I think I've been neglecting my pelvic exercises and my growing," she paused and grimaced for a second before continuing, "my growing belly is putting too much strain on my lower back." She gently began rocking her hips slowly.
"What does it feel like?" Andrea asked.
"Distract, Andrea. That means talk about something else."
"Right, sorry. So, um, the girls texted and they're on the train on their way home. Roy will be picking them up from the airport, and Emily already made sure the townhouse was cleaned and that the fridge was stocked for when you return."
"Keep going," Miranda said, taking another deep breath as she gently rocked back and forth.
"Okay, Nigel said Milan went wonderfully. The party was a success, and Irv even had some nice things to say about you. Apparently he apologized for your absence, explaining that he had been overworking you and you were taking a much-needed vacation. Nigel said he told everyone that you insisted you could take your trip another week, but he would not let you."
"I didn't tell you to make things up, Andrea," Miranda said with a chuckle.
"I'm not! Nigel sent me a long email—you can read it in the car."
"I was just teasing. I believe you, darling. Have you heard any more about a job?"
"No. I followed up with Moira and Joanne on Tuesday after you phoned them, but nothing so far. It's okay. I still need to find a replacement and train her. Oh, I meant to ask, do you know if Emily will be getting that promotion after all?"
"Yes. Nigel told her yesterday, but she will slowly transition over the next month or so."
"Okay, so I will ideally be finding two new assistants for you. HR emailed me a bunch of resumes, but I haven't looked through them yet. If only I could clone myself…"
"If you had a clone, I would want you both to myself," Miranda said. She took a few more deep breaths, then sat back on her heels.
"Better?"
"Yes. Help me up," she said, reaching out her hand.
Andrea helped ease her into a standing position, and led her to the chaise in the bedroom. "Let me rub your back for a few minutes. Tell me if it's uncomfortable."
Miranda turned and rested her head against the backrest while Andrea's palms applied pressure to her lower back. Nearly twenty minutes later, Miranda felt wonderful, though she could tell the young woman's massage had lost its strength. She turned and kissed her—first on the lips, then on the palms of her hands. "Thank you," she said. "I think we can go now."
"Anything we need to bring with? It'll be a two-hour ride," Andrea said as they walked down the stairs.
"No, but I will need to get out and stretch at some point, okay?"
"Sure. Did you want to lay down in the backseat?"
"I'll be fine," Miranda said, grabbing a throw pillow from the nearby couch.
Once situated in the car, Miranda placed the throw pillow on her lap, wedging it beneath her belly.
Andrea leaned over the center console and kissed her. "Thank you for bringing me here this week. Did you have a nice vacation?"
Miranda grinned and nodded. "It was blissful," she said. "Part of me wishes we could just stay here forever."
"I know what you mean," Andrea said as she started the car.
"I'm sorry, Andrea."
"For what?"
"Hiding you. Not telling anyone, not wanting to be photographed with you. You must know I wouldn't do this if there was another way."
Andrea kept her eyes on the road and reached out to grab Miranda's hand. "I understand. If it were different, you wouldn't be you. And I like you just how you are."
Miranda smiled. "Mind if I close my eyes for a while?"
"Not at all. What do you want on the radio?"
"Your choice. Not talk radio."
Andrea turned the station and Miranda quickly drifted off to sleep.
They had been driving for over an hour, and Miranda was still sound asleep. Andrea smiled, thinking about their future. Suddenly, another car pulled in front of her, causing her to slam on the breaks and swerve to the shoulder, instinctively reaching her hand out to keep Miranda's body from propelling forward.
"I'm sorry," she said as soon as the car came to a stop. She was shaking, and the sound of horns on the road wasn't helping to settle her nerves.
"Are you okay?" Miranda asked.
"Yeah, you?"
"Yes. Don't apologize. I should be thanking you for safely avoiding a collision. Do you want to switch?"
Her eyes widened. "Really?"
"Only if you want. I trust you to drive us home, but you just seem a bit jumpy now."
"I'll be okay." Andrea took a deep breath and pulled back onto the road. "You feeling okay? Did you need to stretch?"
"I'll go for a walk once we get home. I'm actually fine right now," Miranda said. "This is going to sound crazy—and don't you dare repeat it to anyone—but I honestly have no desire to go back to work."
"Maybe you'll change your mind when you're home by yourself because the girls are in school and I'm at work."
"True. I do really want to start handing over some of my responsibilities to Nigel…permanently."
"Like what?"
"Well, for starters, the tasks that are truly his job as Art Director: final approval of layouts, choosing models, overseeing cover shoots, seasonal spreads. Honestly, he should be reviewing the Book, too."
"I can have it arranged to get sent to both of you for a while if you'd like," Andrea said.
"No, no. I can't just throw that on him. He will have no chance at a personal life."
"Maybe with Emily's promotion, he can let go of some of the smaller things that take up his time, like overseeing the Closet. Emily would actually be great for that, you know. She knows it inside and out, and she knows the designers' lines by heart."
Miranda nodded. "That's true. I'll have to talk to Nigel first, though. We've been so busy with Milan, I haven't had a chance to sit and talk with him in quite some time."
"Let's have him over for dinner tomorrow!" Andrea said, "Oh. No, never mind. I'm sorry."
"Why?"
"He doesn't know about us. And you probably want to talk to him alone, anyway."
"I'm sure he has his suspicions but is too loyal to speak them. What if we invite him and his boyfriend?" Miranda said.
"They broke up last month. I think he's still single."
"Oh gosh, I had no idea. Well, let's have the four of us and Nigel. That will be fine. The girls haven't seen him in a while."
"Sounds perfect," Andrea said. She turned down Miranda's street and saw the townhouse parked out front.
"Crap, they got home before us," Miranda said, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"It's okay. I'm sure Roy helped them inside and they're getting settled."
Andrea climbed out of the car and grabbed Miranda's duffle bag from the back. As she walked around to the sidewalk, she saw Miranda crouched down, squatting next to the car with her hands on the seat. "What's wrong?" she asked, quickly dropping the bag and crouching next to her."
"Pain, again…damnit!" she said.
Andrea firmly pressed the heel of her hand into Miranda's lower back.
"Harder," Miranda whispered.
"Can you use your hand to support your belly and lift it up at all? At least until you get inside?"
She reached down and took a deep breath, slowly standing back up. "It feels better," she said.
Andrea threw the duffle over her shoulder and guided Miranda into the house and to the sofa. "I'll be right back. Can I get you anything?"
Miranda shook her head, and Andrea headed back outside to move the car into the garage and bring in the remaining bags.
"Come lay with me for a minute," Miranda said. Andrea curled up along the couch with her. Miranda took her hand and placed it on her belly. "They're both kicking like crazy."
"Wow," Andrea said, gently nuzzling Miranda's neck.
"See," Caroline snickered from the doorway. "Told you she was Mom's girlfriend."
Andrea quickly jumped off the couch, and the bounce of the cushions caused Miranda to grunt. She looked over apologetically. "Hi, Caroline, Cassidy. Did you have a nice trip?"
Miranda pushed herself into a sitting position with a groan. "What Andrea meant to say is, yes, she is mommy's girlfriend. And I missed you so much this week—I want to know everything," she said with a smile.
The girls ran to hug Andrea and Miranda, each taking a seat next to Miranda on the couch, and each placing their hands on one side of Miranda's belly. "Is that her kicking, Mom?"
"Yes, baby. They're both very excited to be home, I think."
Cassidy looked up at Andrea who was still standing next to the couch. "Here Andy," she said, standing up and taking her hand. "You sit next to Mom. I'll sit on your lap."
Andrea smiled and quickly took the seat, pulling Cassidy into a hug on her lap. She reached down and took Miranda's hand, squeezing it tightly.
"I love you," Miranda whispered, barely audible.
"Love you, too," Andrea mouthed back with a dreamy look in her eyes.
"Miranda is that you?" an older woman called from the foyer. Her eyes widened and she looked to her girls.
"Oh, sorry. We forgot to tell you Grandma came back with us and is staying the night."
Before Miranda could piece together a coherent thought, Helen appeared in the doorway. "Oh my, I see you have company."
Miranda gently pushed the girls aside and stood to greet Helen, wrapping her arms around her. "It's so good to see you," she said. "You haven't been waiting long, have you?"
"No, your driver dropped us off less than an hour ago. Who is that," she asked, looking over Miranda's shoulder at the couch, "beautiful young woman? She works for you?"
"Well, yes, actually," Miranda stammered.
"It's Andy!" Caroline said.
"She's mom's girlfriend!" Cassidy added.
Miranda shrugged and nodded.
"Miranda, James didn't tell me you were gay," she said quietly.
"I'm not," she said. "I mean, I guess—James doesn't know. This is a recent development." She blushed and bit her lip. "Helen, this is Andrea Sachs. Andrea, the girls' paternal grandmother. Um, Andrea has been staying here, too."
Now it was Andrea's turn to blush as she stood and greeted Helen.
"Oh come here," the older woman said, pulling Andrea into a tight hug. "If you break Miranda's heart, you'll have to deal with me, you know."
Andrea smiled. "I don't think you have to worry," she said, taking Miranda's hand.
"How long are you staying, Helen? Of course, you're welcome to stay as long as you wish, but I was going to invite someone to join us for dinner tomorrow, and I'm hoping you can join."
"I was going to head back tomorrow, but I can take a later train. I really just wanted to see how you were doing. I'm not as concerned now, knowing this young woman is here to look after you."
Miranda smiled and quietly excused herself, heading upstairs.
"Andy, is Mom feeling okay?" Cassidy asked.
"Yeah. Sure. The babies are growing a lot, so sometimes it hurts when her body has to stretch so they can fit inside. But we had a really nice week at your house in the Hamptons, and your mom was able to get a lot of rest," she said. "So, I don't know about you, but we haven't had anything to eat since breakfast and I'm starved!"
Caroline and Cassidy giggled and nodded in agreement.
"Why don't the girls and I fix something in the kitchen, and you can go check on Miranda?" Helen suggested.
Andrea nodded and headed upstairs, finding Miranda curled up on her bed. Andrea sat next to her on the bed. "Your back again?"
"Mm-hmm," Miranda groaned. "It never really went away. I don't want the girls to see me like this."
"They asked me how you were feeling. Will you feel up to coming downstairs for something to eat?"
"Yes, of course. I took two more Tylenol. I can hardly feel it when I'm laying down, it's just sitting and standing."
"Hold on," Andrea said, getting up and heading into the closet. She came back with a small package. "I ordered this back when I ordered your pillow. They make a bunch of other types," she said as she pulled an elastic band out of the box. "Some go all the way up over your shoulders, but this is supposed to help hold your belly up and keep pressure off your cervix."
"Oh my gosh, why didn't you tell me about this earlier?" Miranda asked as she stood and put the band on.
"Does it feel better?"
"Yes," Miranda said, sighing in disbelief. "It actually does."
Andrea wrapped her arms around her growing waistline and pulled Miranda in for a kiss. After a few seconds, she pulled away. "If we go any further, I don't think we'll make it for lunch," she said, kissing Miranda softly on the nose.
The five women spent the afternoon eating the delicious salads and tea sandwiches Helen made. Miranda told the girls all about her week off, from long walks along the beach to breakfasts, lunches, and dinners in bed.
"Nigel, how are you?" Miranda asked, opening the door and letting him inside.
"Miranda, you look fabulous," he said, taking her hand and twirling her around a little bit.
"Oh please, I practically live in wrap dresses these days, but thank you," she said. "I'm glad you were able to make it tonight. I think we have a lot to catch up on."
"Hi Nigel," Andrea said, greeting him in the kitchen.
"Six—I wasn't expecting you. Everything go okay last week without us?"
"Perfectly," she said with a smile.
"Uncle Nigel!" the girls cried, running down the stairs and hugging him tightly.
"Hey! I heard you were at your grandparents house this week? Did you have fun?"
"Yep! And Grandma came back with us to see Mom," they said, dragging Nigel further into the kitchen. "Grandma! This is Uncle Nigel. Mom works with him."
"Helen, nice to see you again," Nigel said, extending his hand.
"You know each other?" Cassidy exclaimed.
"Yes, sweet pea. I met Mr. Kipling long ago when you and your sister were first born," she said, "and I don't think he's aged one day since then."
Nigel blushed. "Well, I brought some sparkling lemonade," he said, placing the bottle on the counter. "What can I help with?"
Several hours later, Andrea joined the girls and their grandma in the living room to watch a movie while Miranda and Nigel headed upstairs to the study.
Miranda rearranged a few pillows on the couch and reclined back. "Nigel, I hope you don't mind," she said.
"No, of course. Can I get you anything?"
"No, I'm fine. Please help yourself to a drink, though. There's Macallan in the decanter."
"Well, thanks, don't mind if I do." He poured himself two fingers of the amber liquid and sat in the chair next to the couch. "You didn't miss anything in Milan. It was really quite boring," he said.
"So about that—I honestly can't tell you how much I enjoyed my week off. At first, I worried what I was going to do all day, but after spending something like thirty-six hours in bed and the rest of the day taking long walks along the beach or curling up on the couch, I really have very little desire to get back to work."
"Wait, Miranda, you can't mean—"
"No. I'm not ready to give it up just yet. But I did want to speak with you about giving you more responsibility—responsibility that is rightfully yours."
"What do you mean?"
"When was the last time you checked your job description?"
"Oh, I haven't looked since I was first hired. My god, they didn't even use computers back then, Miranda. So much has changed."
"I know," she said. "Part of my job is to update the job descriptions of my staff each year. Your most recent is on file with HR. I haven't changed much, just added some things to encompass the intricacies and speed of digital publishing. My point, however, is that over the past twenty years, I seem to have usurped the majority of your responsibilities."
Nigel was shocked. "Miranda, I don't mind. Really. I know you'll make it up to me someday."
"Well Nigel, I'm hoping things can start to change now, for two reasons, mostly selfish. For one, this pregnancy is taking a toll on me and I simply cannot put in the long hours like I used to. Even once the babies are born, I know I will need time to get myself together again. Also, there's the issue of my retirement, if I should be so lucky to not be ousted first."
"What? Miranda, you can't be serious!"
"Relax. I'm talking ten years down the road. But even so, I want to make sure you feel comfortable and confident stepping into my shoes—or anyone's really. Should you so choose."
"Wow. Um, okay. Yes. Yes, Miranda, I'll do whatever you need."
"No. I don't want you thinking of it as doing me a favor. Or doing this because I asked you. It's your job. It's always been your job, but I just wanted my hands on everything. You know, the higher up you go, the less day-to-day work there is to do. Part of my role as editor-in-chief is selecting a competent staff that I trust completely to produce the caliber of work that Runway is known for. I selected you long ago to be my Art Director, and I would do the same today."
"What exactly are you handing over—or, back, I guess—to me, if I may ask?" he said.
"Final approval on all layouts and seasonal spreads. Cover shoots, model selection," she paused, "run-throughs. I will continue to be present in the run-throughs, and I will still review the Book electronically for a while, but if you'd like, I can have it sent to you as well. We will still have our monthly meetings where we all can collaborate and identify trends and features."
"But—what will you do?" he asked.
"Nigel, you act as if that's all I do at work. Most of my time is spent in planning meetings—planning the future of the magazine, subscription models, ways to monetize what others are giving away for free on the internet. I submit the final budget for our publication, which as you know partly determines the location and extravagance of our shoots. There is a lot of behind-the-scenes work to my job."
"Since when have you been in favor of 'behind-the-scenes?'" he asked.
"I don't think I ever was. I liked being able to do everything, and if I had my choice right now, I would probably choose a role like Serena's—making an impact, but being able to go home at night and live my life."
"Fifty years old and you finally decide to settle down?"
Miranda blushed. "Well, yes, actually. Although it sounds terribly boring when you put it like that."
"So, just you and the girls or is there someone else in the picture?" he asked.
Miranda sat up. "I will answer your question, but please excuse me for just a minute," she said.
Nigel nodded, and Miranda waddled out of the study and downstairs.
"Andrea," she called.
The brunette hopped off the couch and met Miranda in the hall. "Everything okay?"
"Yes. How would you feel about telling Nigel about us?"
"Oh, um, tonight?"
"Yes, right now. I didn't want to say anything without you there."
Andrea smiled. "Okay. Yes."
"Wonderful. I just have to pee first—give me a minute."
Andrea grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, then followed Miranda back up the stairs.
"Sorry," Miranda said, taking a seat on the sofa again. "These babies are pressing on my bladder."
Andrea sat down on the couch next to her. "Hey Nige."
"What's going on?" he asked.
"Before I got up to use the bathroom, we were talking about me settling down, and you asks if there was someone else in the picture," she said. "Well, yes, actually. There is." She reached down and squeezed Andrea's hand. "Andrea," she said.
Nigel's eyes widened. "Wait—you mean—wow. I mean, what am I saying, geez. I love you two!"
Andrea smiled and rested her head on her shoulder. "Nigel, we'd prefer if you didn't say anything just yet. I'm still trying to find a writer position somewhere, and of course, Irv doesn't know."
"Yes, of course," he said. "Wow. I'm so happy for you, Miranda."
TBC