February 14th, 1998 —
The last two months have been a whirlwind. After our honeymoon in Paris, I was named the new Editor in Chief of Runway, and I didn't realize all of the publicity that came along with the role. It seems the press are determined to document every unflattering moment of my pregnancy and publish it in the papers. At first, it was upsetting, but James has been wonderfully supportive. I don't know why it continues to surprise me that someone can be so good to me.
Today, James sent me to a spa for the entire afternoon, and promises me a romantic dinner at home. I've still been feeling sluggish and achy, but I've had much more opportunity to rest so far this year than I did last.
I have my twenty-four week appointment next week with Dr. Lowry. I am constantly amazed at how my body is able to grow these two incredible baby girls. I've already decided this: my daughters are my greatest accomplishment as a human being. After that, little else matters.
Miranda came home to the townhouse after her spa day, feeling refreshed and relaxed. She hoped James hadn't cooked anything too heavy, since she wasn't really hungry at all.
"Hi honey," he said, greeting her in the hallway. He helped her out of her coat and hung it in the closet. "How was your afternoon?"
"Mmmh," she sighed, hugging him and leaning her head on his shoulder. "It was wonderful and relaxing, and I'm sorry but I just want to—wait, is that freesia?" She pushed away and pressed the back of her hand to her lips as she ran down the hall to the bathroom.
James followed and stood at the entrance to the bathroom. "Honey, what can I do?"
"Shower. You smell like freesia, and it's making me nauseous," she said, looking up at him. "I need to lay down."
"But I have dinner—"
Miranda opened her mouth to respond, but instead turned to the toilet and began retching.
James sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Okay, okay, I'll uh, put the food away and we can eat when you're feeling up to it. I'll go shower," he said.
A few hours later, James crawled into bed next to Miranda and woke her with a kiss to the cheek. "Feeling better, sweetheart?"
Miranda took a deep breath and opened her eyes. "Hi," she said, kissing him quickly. "I'm sorry I ruined your plans for tonight."
"No, don't worry about it. I just wanted to wake you up for a little bit so you can sleep tonight."
She pushed herself up onto her elbow and looked over at James. "Why on earth were you smelling like freesia earlier?" she asked.
"I stopped to get you a little something from Bergdorfs after dropping you off at the spa. I must have gotten sprayed by someone on the first floor," he said. "Just to be safe, I took the bag down to the garage to air out."
"It smelled like Chanel Beige," she said. "I had a similar reaction last week in the office."
James helped Miranda out of bed and led her to the kitchen, where he had the lights dimmed and two long taper candles on the table. There were two wine glasses filled with sparkling water, and two small dessert plates and forks.
"Cheesecake with chocolate sauce?" he asked.
Her eyes widened. "Your mother's recipe?"
"You bet."
"You spoil me," she said. "And I love you for it."