A/N: I was having problems with FF last night, so sorry these updates are back to back. As always, thank you for reading & please r/r!
Chapter 5
The next week was very relaxing for both Andrea and Miranda. Miranda was healing very well from her breast surgery, and the doctor had put in her port for chemotherapy. She had little to no discomfort after that, and she was no longer taking pain/nausea medication, and she was even able to sleep on her side again. More than anything, being forced to sleep on her back was keeping her from getting any real rest. They took walks in the park, and even took a trip to see Caroline & Cassidy for a few minutes.
"Miranda, your appointment is at 10am tomorrow. First you will meet with your oncologist Dr Weber, and then you will receive chemotherapy. They said you should be ready to leave by noon," Andrea said.
"So, this is it, huh?" Miranda said. "First day of the rest of my life."
"Um, have you talked with Leslie lately?" Andrea asked.
"No, why?"
"The hospital wing is not private, Miranda. You will be seen, and if not this week, in the next few weeks someone will get a photo and, well, you know what happens next."
"Well," Miranda said, "I better go select my outfit, then."
Andrea smiled. She was glad to see Miranda so positive, and secretly wondered how long it would last.
"What are you thinking?" Miranda asked, resting her head on Andrea's shoulder. They were sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace, Andrea's feet resting on the coffee table and Miranda's tucked underneath her.
"Oh, um, nothing. Just about tomorrow."
"Are you nervous, Andrea?"
"No. I just. No. It's going to be fine," she said, taking Miranda's hand and squeezing it tightly.
"There's something else, isn't there? Tell me," Miranda urged. She stretched up and pressed a soft kiss to Andrea's cheek. "I promise I won't get upset."
"Miranda, you're finally doing better, you're stronger, the pain is gone, and I just wish there was something I could do to keep you this way."
"What is to say I won't stay this way?" Miranda asked.
"Chemo is awful. Yes, it kills cancer cells, but it destroys your body, too. I don't want to see you like that."
Miranda sat up and turned to face Andrea, taking her hands in her own. "Darling, if this is too much, I can find a nurse to stay with me."
"No!" Andrea shouted, "No, that is NOT what I meant. Miranda, I will be here with you through every minute," she said, throwing her arms around the older woman and hugging her tightly. "It's just—cancer changes people. And I like you exactly the way you are."
"What makes you think I'll change?" she asked.
"I've seen it before," Andrea murmured, her head buried in Miranda's neck.
Suddenly, it all made sense. "With whom?" Miranda asked.
"My sister," Andrea said.
"Why didn't you say anything?" Miranda asked.
"It wasn't the right time. I didn't want to bother you with my problems," Andrea said.
"Oh are you serious? You've seen me moaning in pain, crying in embarrassment, you've changed my bandages and emptied my drains. Andrea, please. It's actually a welcome distraction to think of someone other than myself for a while."
Miranda stood up and walked across the room, selecting a bottle of wine and two glasses. "Here," she said, handing Andrea a glass. "When was your sister diagnosed?"
"Four years ago," she said. "My sister is nine years older than me." Taking a deep breath, she continued, not wanting the story to be drawn out. "Because they don't typically do mammograms for women younger than 50, it was a long time before they realized it was cancer. At first, the doctor told her it was dense tissue caused by caffeine. She needed radiation to shrink the tumor before surgery. After six weeks of radiation, it had shrunk to the size of a golf ball, which is still enormous to me. She had reconstruction and chemo, but she got crazy with the chemo. She lost a lot of weight because she was trying to keep to this vegan, sugar-free, soy-free diet. She doesn't eat because she's afraid food will give her cancer again. She won't use plastics, but it's like she refuses to take care of herself. Her bones are brittle because she doesn't get enough nutrients. She's always dizzy and falls, and even now, she still lays in bed even two years later. It's like she doesn't want to get better because she knows she won't be getting as much attention. I haven't spoken to my mom in two years because of this."
"Darling, I'm so sorry to hear this. But her cancer—is it in remission now?"
"Yes, she's healthy. But it's all in her head now."
"So this is what you meant when you said you didn't want me to change," Miranda said.
Andrea nodded. "But Miranda, no matter what, I will stick by you."
"How can you say that? I don't know how this is going to affect me," Miranda said.
"I promise, Miranda."
"Okay," she said, "well I need to take some medication, and then we should probably get some rest. Tomorrow will be a long day."
That night, Andrea climbed into bed with Miranda, as she had been doing for the past three weeks. Miranda turned to her left side, turning out the bedside lamp, and Andrea slipped in behind her, draping her arm across Miranda's torso. "Goodnight, Miranda," she said, softly kissing her cheek, "love you."
"Love you, too, Andrea. Sweet dreams, darling."
Andrea smiled. She didn't exactly remember when they started saying "love you," but she did know that neither of them had said "I love you"—as if those three words held more weight. Of course, she thought Miranda was beautiful, and she wondered what it would be like to be Miranda's lover. But, with everything Miranda was dealing with, she didn't even want to hint at anything more than what they had—a loving friendship—or something like that.
The next morning, Miranda woke early to shower, do her makeup, and get ready for the day. She decided on a crisp white blouse with a silk scarf, wide-leg trousers, and her plum Prada heels. Miranda went downstairs, made some half regular, half decaf coffee and sat at the kitchen counter, reading through her newspaper. It was only March. Staring at the words on the page, Miranda realized she wasn't really reading them at all. Glancing at the clock, she stood to make sure Andrea was awake. Roy would be arriving to pick them up in thirty minutes.
As she entered the hall, Andrea was coming down the stairs in a black wool Chanel dress with black and gold Tory Burch heels. Miranda forgot how breathtakingly beautiful the young woman was, as she had been wearing loungewear for the past few weeks. Andrea cleared her throat as she reached the bottom of the staircase, jolting Miranda from her daydream. "Well?" she asked, twirling around in a circle.
"Quite acceptable, Andrea. You should wear Chanel more often," she said.
"I asked Roy to come a few minutes early, if that's alright. I want to see what we can do about a private room there," Andrea said. She walked past Miranda and into the kitchen, digging around for a granola bar, some yogurt, and a bottle of pellegrino. Miranda watched as she packed the items neatly into her large tote. She poured herself a half cup of coffee and drank it quickly, returning to the hallway where Miranda was.
"Roy's here," she said. "Are you ready, Miranda?"
Miranda nodded and reached for her coat from the closet, watching as Andrea selected the green coat for herself. They settled themselves in the backseat of the towncar. Andrea sent several text messages to Emily and Nigel, reminding them that today was her first chemo. While they were gone, Emily was planning to deliver several floral arrangements to the townhouse. Andrea specified that she wanted two dozen pink, yellow, and white roses in Miranda's study, and pink peonies in Miranda's bedroom.
When they arrived, the doctor was actually ready, so Miranda met with the oncologist right away. He had been working closely with Dr Barry on her treatment plan, and explained each step to Miranda in detail. Andrea sat outside in the waiting room. Once the doctor was through, he walked Miranda to the waiting room, and Miranda introduced him to Andrea.
"This is my very dear friend Andrea. She will be here with me each week. Andrea, Dr Steven Weber."
"Hi Dr Weber, it's a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for taking such good care of Miranda."
"I will see that Miranda receives the absolute best care while she's here. As I told her a few minutes ago, I am one hundred percent confident that after her chemotherapy treatments, she will be cancer-free and live a long, healthy life."
Andrea glanced over at Miranda and saw tears pooling in her eyes. "Thank you, Dr Weber."
"Let me show you ladies over to the treatment rooms," he said. "We have done our best to respect your privacy, but please realize we cannot shut down the clinic for you— there are many other women here, some with very aggressive cancers. It would not be fair to these patients if we were to deny them services."
"I completely understand, Steven," Miranda said. "Really, it's okay. It's just photographers I worry about."
"I will make sure my front desk staff knows to keep watch for any suspicious visitors," he reassured her.
"Thank you again, doctor," Andrea said, shaking his hand as she and Miranda stepped into a room. Andrea noticed that the other rooms had large windows that opened to the hallway, but the room Miranda was in had frosted glass so you couldn't really see inside.
Andrea walked over to the chair by the window and took a seat, pulling a few items from her bag. Miranda stood in front of the bed, unsure of whether she was supposed to sit or what.
"Do I have to lie in this hospital bed?" she asked quietly.
"They will hook up the IV to your port, and it will hang from that pole. Your blood pressure and oxygen will be monitored, so it's easiest if you're there. Here," Andrea said, "I'll move this into a sitting position." She played with a few levers on the bed and was able to bring the back up into a sitting position. "I brought something for you, hold on," she said. She quickly pulled a large vacuum-sealed bag out of her tote. Inside was one of Miranda's pillows. "Here," she said, setting the pillow on the sterile hospital bed.
"Did you eat breakfast?" Andrea asked as Miranda situated herself on the bed.
"No. Just coffee."
"Well, I packed some of Cara's homemade granola, greek yogurt, and an apple."
Miranda pointed to the apple and Andrea handed it to her, along with a small napkin. "Thank you, Andrea, for everything."
"That's what very dear friends do, Miranda. Please don't feel like you need to keep thanking me. You know, before all of this," Andrea said, "you never thanked anyone for anything."
"I know. I was a horrible person," Miranda said.
"I wouldn't go that far. You just challenged others to do their very best."
"I suppose," she said.
Just then, two nurses walked in. "Hi, Miranda, I'm Laura and this is Jen. We will be your nurses throughout your treatment. If you can take off your scarf, I can get you connected. Jen will put your blood pressure cuff on."
Miranda took her scarf off and handed it to Andrea, closing her eyes as Laura snapped the tubing into her port. "Miranda," she said, "When this bag gets low, we will swap it out. There is an alarm on it, but please feel free to press the call light if you need anything. There is a restroom across the hall. You can take your IV pole with you. Do you have any questions?"
"No, thank you," Miranda said as the two women left.
They sat for a few minutes in silence before Andrea began speaking. "Have you thought about your hair, Miranda?"
"Yes," she said. "When it starts coming out, I'll have it cut," she said, "If I have to go anywhere, maybe I'll wear one of those black bob wigs from the Runway closet."
"Miranda, that would look great on you," Andrea said, thinking about how hot Miranda would be with that hair. "But of course," she added, "I do love your silver-white hair."
"Really?" Miranda asked. "You like the silver hair?"
Andrea smiled, "Of course I do, it's elegant and sexy and just goes perfectly with your skin tone."
"Come closer," Miranda said, moving towards the edge of the large hospital bed so Andrea could fit. The young woman kicked off her heels and climbed onto the bed, nestling herself alongside Miranda.
Andrea woke when the alarm on Miranda's IV began to beep. "I'll go get the nurse," Andrea said, starting to sit up.
"No," Miranda said. "Stay here. I pushed the button."
Andrea snuggled up to Miranda again, "How are you feeling?" she asked.
"Absolutely perfect," she said, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the top of Andrea's head.
Laura came in the room and stopped, clearly surprised at the scene before her. "Miranda, are you doing okay?"
"Yes, thank you," she said.
"I'm going to change this bag. The third bag will be a combination of fluids and anti-nausea medication. Can I bring you anything?"
"No, we're fine," she said, wrapping her arm more tightly around Andrea. They spent most of the morning next to each other. For Miranda, the young woman provided safety and security, silently reassuring her with each breath. Andrea loved laying there in Miranda's arms, but she knew it would be twenty-four hours before any of the chemo symptoms started. She wasn't sure if Miranda would still welcome her touch when she was bent over the toilet or curled up in pain.
As Miranda was on her third dose, Andrea got some granola and yogurt for Miranda and sat on the edge of the bed. "Andrea," she said, "you haven't eaten anything today, have you?"
"No, I, uh, woke up late. I'll have lunch later," she said.
"Here, have some yogurt," she said, "I can't finish it."
"Are you sure?" Andrea asked.
"Yes, please, eat."
Andrea took the yogurt from Miranda and put a spoonful to her lips. There was something strangely erotic about licking the yogurt off the same spoon that was just in Miranda's mouth. Miranda's breath hitched as she watched Andrea's tongue graze over the spoon, licking every bit of creamy white yogurt off of the utensil.
Andrea softly moaned as she finished licking the spoon. "That was delicious, Miranda, thank you," she said.
"Andrea, can you pass me some water?" Miranda asked.
Andrea hopped off the bed and pulled a bottle of Pellegrino out of her bag, pouring a small glass and handing it to Miranda.
Within an hour, Andrea and Miranda were ready to leave. Laura and Jen wished her well, and gave Andrea each of their direct numbers if she had any questions in the coming weeks. Roy helped the ladies into the backseat.
"Roy, can you turn the radio on—something jazzy or classical?" Miranda asked.
"Of course. Let me know if you need me to change it," he said.
"Have you ever listened to the radio in the car?" Andrea asked.
"I don't think so. I just kind of felt like it. Do you mind?"
"Not at all. It's lovely," Andrea said.
When Roy pulled up at the townhouse, Andrea and Miranda stepped out and headed up the steps. Once inside, Andrea took Miranda's coat and hung it in the closet with her own. "I'm going to go change into something more comfortable," Andrea said.
"Wait," Miranda said, "Please, keep the Chanel on for the rest of the day."
"But Miranda, it's from the Closet and I don't want to ruin it."
"Darling, I don't care. I will call Karl and have him send over an entire collection for you," she said. Miranda softly ran her hand down Andrea's arm as she admired the young girl in the wool dress.
Andrea nodded and followed Miranda up into the study. Miranda opened a small cabinet and put a Dave Brubeck Quartet album on the turntable. Smiling, she walked over to the couch and sat next to her, leaning against her and stretching her legs out on the couch. In no time, Miranda was asleep. Andrea tried to relax, but was kept awake by her thoughts. She loved Miranda, really truly loved Miranda, but had no idea what to do about it. Not only was it the first woman she'd been in love with, she had no idea what Miranda wanted. Yes, Miranda said she loved her, but it was that "very dear friend" kind of love. It wasn't until today, when she was sharing Miranda's spoon, that she realized she wanted to to kiss the older woman.
A few hours later, Miranda woke, and silently left the study. Andrea was awake, listening as Miranda walked into her bedroom, and into her bathroom. The minute she heard Miranda vomiting, she was on her feet, literally running to the master bathroom.
Andrea pushed the door open and ran towards Miranda, who was bent over the toilet, one hand wrapped tightly around her waist, the other balancing on the toilet seat. Andrea ran up behind her, holding her tightly as she reached over to the sink and ran some cool water on a washcloth.
"It's okay," Andrea said, placing the cool cloth on the back of Miranda's neck. Andrea flushed the toilet and felt Miranda start to stand up. She took the cloth and gently pressed it to Miranda's forehead for a few seconds before moving down to wipe her lips. Miranda had tears in her eyes.
"Andrea, you don't have to—" she started to say before Andrea lifted her finger to the woman's lips.
"Not a word," she said. "Here, rinse out your mouth and splash some cool water on your face," she said, pouring some mouthwash into a cup and turning the water on. The entire time, she stood behind the woman, her arm wrapped around her.
"I'm going to change into something comfortable," Miranda said.
"I'll quickly clean up in here," Andrea said, reaching under the sink for the lysol wipes and toilet bowl cleaner. As Andrea finished sanitizing the bathroom, she turned to put the cleaner back under the sink and wash her hands, but was significantly distracted when she glanced into the bedroom and saw Miranda standing their in her bra and nude silk undies. The woman was so incredibly gorgeous, and all Andrea could think of was how unfair it was that Miranda, someone she loved, had to suffer through this. Andrea washed her hands, watching as Miranda stepped into a silk night gown.
Drying her hands, she stepped out of the bathroom. "Here," she said, handing Miranda a pill from the dresser, "take a Zofran. It will help."
Miranda accepted the pill, and tried to swallow as little water as possible with it for fear of throwing up again.
"Miranda, you need to stay hydrated. Your body will handle the drugs so much better."
She nodded and took another larger sip of water before crawling into bed. "Andrea, you don't have to stay here with me. I'm sick."
"Hey," Andrea said, sitting carefully on the side of the bed next to Miranda, "I want to be here, okay? Now do I need to sleep in this dress or can I change into something else?" she asked.
Miranda smiled. "Wear whatever you want. There are some silk nightgowns in the top drawer if you'd like," she offered, thinking of how beautiful Andrea would look in the green silk gown she had.
Andrea went to the drawer and pulled out the green nightgown, smiling when Miranda nodded in approval. She stepped over towards the opposite side of the bed to change, as she already had a growing pile of clothes forming on the chair. While she unzipped the dress and stepped out of it, Miranda watched her reflection in the mirror. Andrea slipped off her bra before sliding the green silk gown over her head, and Miranda couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to press her body to Andrea's with only the thin layers of silk between them.
The young woman crawled closer to Miranda, reaching her hand up and cupping the older woman's cheek. "I care about you, Miranda," she said, softly kissing her cheek. "I want to be here, whether you're feeling good or not so good. I love you, Miranda," she said, pressing her lips to Miranda's cheek once again, but lingering a bit longer. "Try and get some rest."
"You too," Miranda said as she closed her eyes and felt Andrea's arm wrap around her body.
TBC