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When Andy knocked on the townhouse's front door and was received by, a, Miranda Priestly wearing comfortable yet chic clothes, and, b, her favorite dish from The Marshall, she thought she might be the luckiest woman on the planet.
Sure, she had worked herself to near exhaustion trying to write the article about the latest political scandal in New York, and Andy was pretty sure she had missed more meals than she had while in school, but it was worth it. Not only because she was climbing the steps towards the career she had dreamed about since she was ten, but also because she was there. Not inside her, admittedly, shitty apartment or eating an old burrito just outside the subway. No. Andy was allowed, invited, really, to drop by at Miranda's house.
And she didn’t have to stop at any dry-cleaning or bring The Book at that ungodly hour. And, sure, when she did those things, Andy had a spare key to allow herself to enter and drop all the things she juggled in her hands, and now she had to knock and pray Patricia wouldn’t think that as an invitation to jump on her once the door opened. But now she had Miranda opening the door for her, and she had Miranda flashing her the small smile that a very, very tiny list of people got to see, and she had Miranda ushering her inside, hanging her coat, leaning in for a brief kiss, and asking about her day.
Andy had pinched herself a few times before because it all looked surreal.
But Andy quite enjoyed the life she was building for herself. It was a life where she drank cheap coffee in the mornings while going to work or the most expensive coffee brand she had ever seen. She either had to wake up at an ungodly hour to ride the subway or she could sleep in and leave just a bit late because Miranda's house wasn’t that far from her office. She either ate instant noodles for dinner or the fanciest dish anyone had ever heard about. Miranda herself sometimes made arrangements for dinner, which was an absolute delight for some reason. Emily had long gone, moved to another department after Miranda was done eating her soul for breakfast, lunch, and supper, and some new naïve young girl had replaced her, but Andy liked the idea that Miranda didn’t always make one of her assistants figure out what she wanted to eat. Their wish to live is the answer most of the time.
Either way, that night, when Andy was eating the delicious lamb while telling in too many details how the last few days had been, Miranda had listened. Andy had seen The Book on the side table in the hallway when she entered, but Miranda hadn’t picked it up, instead watching Andy with rapt attention even if she didn’t make any comment. It was an easy agreement between them: not interfering in each other's jobs in any way, and that included giving unsolicited advice.
Andy had talked until the food was gone, the wine was dangerously low in the bottle, and her eyes started to feel too heavy. She yawned two or three times, hiding it behind her hand, before Miranda announced they should go to bed. Andy had relented because she was tired, and the food made her lazy, and she knew Miranda still had to go through The Book, and, well, because Miranda's bed was like lying down in the clouds.
She would blame her sleepy brain for forgetting to bring some water to the room with her and Miranda for looking so damn good sitting in bed when Andy left her shower. Andy had walked to the bed, kicked off her slippers, and slipped under the covers. Miranda gave her some room, not much, moving The Book to the side so Andy could rest her head on the older woman’s lap. The last thing Andy remembered before falling asleep was the feeling of skilled fingers moving through her hair.
It honestly felt like days had gone by before Andy woke up again, but it was to the feeling of a dry mouth. It was either the salty lamb, too much wine, or the lack of water for the past few days because she honestly forgot to drink some. Either way, it felt like she had tried to swallow the Sahara Desert in one bite.
After she slept, Miranda had moved on the bed so they were now both lying down. Andy's head wasn’t on her lap anymore, Miranda's glasses were gone, along with The Book on the nightstand, and the soft covers were all wrapped around Andy somehow. Miranda didn’t feel cold at night and she kicked the duvets even before falling asleep every time. That also meant that, most nights, they didn’t cuddle because Andy refused to be cold and Miranda refused to hug a blanket fort for the night.
Even so, Andy debated with herself whether she really needed to get up from the comfortable place she found herself in. She was facing Miranda, listening to her soft low snores, she was warm, and she didn’t feel like going downstairs. However, when she tried to swallow and felt like that time as a kid when she thought the sand at the playground would be good to eat, Andy sighed and resigned herself to getting out.
She didn’t try to be too quiet because she knew how clumsy she was and how much worse it got when she was trying to tiptoe her way around, but, as she closed the door behind her, Andy was sure Miranda hadn’t woken up. The master bedroom stayed on the third floor and Andy yawned as she started to go down to the first floor. At least, in her overpriced small apartment, she only had to walk a few steps to go from the only room to the kitchen.
When Andy rounded a corner to go down the next flight of stairs, she was met with the distinct smell of paint remover, faint but there. Her nose crinkled a bit, wondering why Miranda didn’t wait for the trip she and the twins were going on at the end of the month before deciding to do a renovation, but, once again, she had decided not to say anything. To be honest, Andy had chickened out of making any comment when she glimpsed at the project the architect left behind because she saw that one of the renovations included a new home office just beside the library and, well, Andy knew Miranda liked to work in the library while home. It was Andy who complained about having to type on the laptop while sitting on one of the expensive chairs, saying it made her neck hurt and her back ache.
They hadn’t talked about it, about moving in together, and Andy wasn’t sure if she was scared, excited, or afraid to have read the thing wrong. She loved Miranda, she knew she did, and had loved her for quite some time. Since after Paris, when Miranda reached out in the most awkward yet cute way, after her divorce was done. Maybe a little bit before Paris too, though Andy wouldn’t say it was love. More of an admiration, the kind of blind necessity to prove herself because Miranda didn’t respect her and also because Andy had never backed away from a challenge before. And attraction, of course, because Andy had two working eyes and wasn’t oblivious to how gorgeous Miranda Priestly was and is, thank you very much.
Her point, Andy thought when she finally reached the bottom of the stairs that lit up thanks to the light sensors, is that she wasn’t sure what her reaction would be if Miranda asked her to move in. Andy met her ex-boyfriend — and she hadn’t said his name aloud for months now because it always made Miranda roll her eyes — when they were in college. Andy had lived with her parents before that, then she shared a cheap apartment with five other students, and immediately moved in with Nate after graduating. She had lived alone for the first time in her life after Nate left and, well, it took some adjustment, but Andy liked the independence now. She liked cleaning things the way she wanted, and leaving her shoes wherever she felt like, and not having to worry about groceries because she could get by with a few water bottles and granola bars for a week.
Not to mention this! Andy rolled her eyes to herself when she finally, finally entered the kitchen. Look how freaking far everything was in that house. She was convinced she didn’t even know all the rooms inside the townhouse! Who needs that much space anyway?
And, okay, fine, the fridge was actually the most beautiful thing Andy had ever seen. And it was great that she didn’t have to open the door to pour herself a glass. And, sure, the flowers that Miranda insisted on having around did make the place feel a bit cozy. And she loved to sleep and wake up next to Miranda, and it would be great to be able to do that every day. And, fine, sharing space with someone who didn’t leave her wet towels on top of the bed would be nice. And sharing life with the person she loved the most sounded quite nice. And…
“Ah!” Andy yelled in surprise when she turned around and saw someone sitting at the kitchen table.
No, not someone. One of the twins. Caroline, if Andy had to guess, because, as much alike as they are, Cassidy would have laughed her ass off if she had managed to scare Andy like that. And Caroline, if she was right, just arched her eyebrow in a way that showed her how unimpressed she was, managing to look exactly like her mother in that moment.
With one hand pressed against her chest, Andy closed her eyes for a few seconds, wishing that her heart wouldn’t give up now, even if it felt like a hummingbird was inside her. She listened for steps or any indication that someone woke up after her yell, but Andy heard nothing. In the end, she added that as a reason why it would be inconvenient to live there. So big that no one would hear if an axe murderer tried to kill you in the kitchen.
Andy was only partially sure that Miranda wouldn’t make one of her assistants clean up the bloody mess afterwards.
“Jesus, Caroline,” Andy said when her body stopped feeling like she should run to the hills to hide. “You scared me,” though it went without saying.
When she opened her eyes, Caroline's eyebrow had gone even higher. “You literally walked past me.”
Sure enough, Caroline wasn’t exactly hiding in the kitchen. Her back was turned to the door, and Andy was sure the kitchen light was already on now that she thought back. She must have missed the teenage girl while thinking and her tiredness didn’t help. With a sigh, Andy put her water down on the table and leaned with both hands on the back of a chair. She had no idea how late it was, but she was sure that Caroline wasn’t supposed to be sitting in the kitchen eating cookies or whatever sugary thing she had decided to sneak behind her mother's back.
Though, Andy mused, she would keep her mouth shut if Caroline felt inclined to share.
“What are you doing up in the middle of the night?”
Caroline shrugged and looked down. Her tablet was lying on the table and she appeared to be playing some game, which Andy was also certain Miranda forbade both twins from doing after 10 p.m. Andy wasn’t their mother, however, and she wasn’t about to get on the twins' bad side again by telling the girl the obvious. Instead, she waited and, discreetly, watched.
Caroline was still in her pajamas, something made from silk with buttons on the shirt, some lilac shade or whatever. She appeared to be barefoot, both feet propped on the chair's leg, and her hair was a bit messy. There wasn’t any sugary treat in front of her, or any evidence that there had been at some point, and she was sitting right under the lamp. That, and the fact that the girl looked tired, made Andy consider her options for a bit.
She could send Caroline to bed and go back to sleep, or she could just pretend she didn’t see the girl there and leave. However, her relationship with the twins had improved a great deal ever since she stopped being their mother's second assistant. She wouldn’t go as far as saying the girls liked her, but they had dinner together sometimes, and often shared lunch on Sundays when they weren’t with their father, and Andy even got them to promise not to mess with Miranda's assistants anymore. And, turns out, Andy enjoyed their presence. They were spoiled rotten, of course, and they were the rich-kid cliché most of the time. But they were kind of sweet, and funny when they weren’t trying to make other people the punchline, and surprisingly smart. They thought it was boring to do their own homework because, well, they already knew that stuff. And they actually did their science project on their own after asking Andy if she could help them buy all the things they would need.
So, yes, Andy could say she had a soft spot for them now. Emily was actually more shocked when Andy said that than when the English woman found out that Miranda was fucking her former assistant. But alas. Sometimes you have to remember they are just kids.
Finally, she took a sip of her water and asked, “Couldn’t sleep?”
Caroline didn’t look up and, for a moment, it seemed like she wasn’t going to answer. Andy took another sip of her water, the girl tapped a few more times on the screen, the clock ticked. Andy remembered how early she would need to be up because she had scheduled an interview. She thought about Miranda's snores. She even thought about the article that was due in two days and that she still needed to finish. Andy stayed where she was, though. Standing, because she still wasn’t sure Caroline wanted her there or not, and wondering if Emily would believe her if she told her the twins hadn’t tried to trick her for quite some time now.
“I guess,” Caroline answered eventually, sounding smaller than her thirteen years warranted.
Andy nodded because she, too, couldn't bring herself to sleep sometimes. But she was an adult who had too many bills to pay, and too many headlines at work, and parents who didn’t talk to her anymore, and the never-ending fear of what the fuck she was doing with her life because time was ticking and Andy hadn’t hit all the milestones she thought she would at her age. But Caroline wasn’t. She was thirteen and surely had her own teenage angst most days, but she shouldn’t be having trouble sleeping.
“Wanna talk about it?” If Miranda were there, she would’ve said something about properly pronouncing words and “Aren’t you a journalist?”. Andy didn’t care. She was tired and Caroline looked like she was too, and she was starting to get cold.
“No.”
“Okay.” Andy respected it, really. If there was one thing Miranda taught the twins, other than being brats, it was to set up their boundaries. They said no if they wanted and said yes if they wanted. They were direct, like their mother, and sometimes Andy envied them because she was the kid who swallowed her words most of the time. Since Caroline made it clear she didn’t want to talk, Andy decided to at least offer some type of comfort. She opened the top cabinet, where soon the twins would reach because they were going through a growth spurt, and took some of Miranda's fancy chocolate out. Truly fancy. Andy broke a piece and pushed it into her mouth before handing another piece, a bit bigger, to Caroline.
The girl looked at her with both eyebrows raised this time, still not impressed, but she accepted it after Andy shook it in front of her. Not without rolling her eyes, of course. Because she’s a teenager.
“Mom is going to notice it’s gone,” Caroline said, although she wasted no time eating.
It was time for Andy to shrug. “Yes, well, she has another secret stash and not even I know where it is. She's going to survive.”
“The drawing room on the second floor, under the Hungarian vase,” the canary sang as she returned to her game. “It's a fake book, it’s actually a box.”
Andy smiled. Okay, so two more secret stashes because she had been lying before. Miranda had such a sweet tooth, it was cute.
“Since you don’t wanna talk about it, do you want some tea?”
Caroline shook her head. “No.”
“Hot chocolate?”
“No.”
“Pizza?”
“We don’t have pizza.”
“It's New York,” Andy declared and smiled when Caroline looked at her again. “We can always have pizza.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
“No, thank you,” Caroline rolled her eyes again and was about to go back to her tablet when the thing went black. No battery, Andy suspected, and the sigh the teenager let out was louder than anything else Andy had ever heard in her life. Even Miranda's own sighs.
Silence fell around them for a moment and Andy had to force herself not to show any emotion when Caroline locked her eyes on her. She was being studied, she knew, and the twins were like sharks in the water. If they sensed fear, they would rip you apart.
It felt like Andy stood there for five hours before Caroline said anything else, though it was probably less than a minute. “I had a nightmare, it’s fine.”
It wasn’t fine, Andy thought. Because before admitting that, Caroline had to evaluate if she could share that information with Andy, and because the girl was sitting in the kitchen in the middle of the night, and because even talking about it made Caroline recoil into herself like she was trying to make herself smaller.
“Scary?” Andy asked instead of pointing that out. Caroline only nodded, taking her eyes away to stare at a wall, and Andy resisted the urge to sit down and hug her. Cassidy was more of a hugger; Caroline liked her space. “Anything I can help you with?”
“It was stupid. Cass and I watched this dumb movie before going to bed, and I guess it stuck with me.” Caroline frowned and sounded mad, either at herself, at the movie, or at her subconscious.
Andy was sure she had heard, weeks ago, the girls telling Miranda that they were old enough to watch scary movies now and that they would be just fine. She wasn’t about to say that, however. “Okay, well, just keep in mind it's not real. But you should really try to go back to sleep. It’s Friday tomorrow, you have school, you're going to be tired.”
And then Caroline flushed. Her cheeks went pink and she averted her eyes while her finger tried to bring her tablet back to life. It was quite amusing to watch.
“What is it?” Andy asked gently. And then, because that was the girl who once put salt in her coffee just because, she added: “Do you have a secret teddy bear you can't find?” She kept a gentle smile, though, and her voice light. Mostly because they knew Caroline liked to make fun of Cassidy for still sleeping with her childhood teddy bear.
Caroline rolled her eyes so hard that Andy half expected them to fall from her face. They didn’t and, when the blue orbs found hers, it was like staring at Miranda. “Don't be ridiculous. I'm not a kid.”
Andy shrugged. “Okay, well, you still should go to sleep, though. Do you want me to go with you so I can turn the lights off?”
“No,” Caroline gritted her teeth.
“Do you need me to knock you out?” Andy waited until Caroline looked at her with wide eyes before flexing her biceps like she saw the men doing at the gym close to the office. “Cause I could,” she added as seriously as she could manage before letting her very thin arm fall to her side.
It got the desired effect. Caroline snorted a laugh and didn’t roll her eyes or call her ridiculous. Andy smiled victoriously and waited until the girl finally felt like sharing. It always takes some time with Caroline.
“It's just…” Caroline sighed and dropped her head so that most of her red hair covered her face. “It's been a while since I had a nightmare, but I used to have them all the time when I was a kid.”
“That's pretty normal, I'm sure,” Andy replied. “And what did you do when you were a kid and had a nightmare?”
“I, uh, I used to call Mom,” she admitted and, even without seeing her face, Andy was sure she was red as a tomato. As if Andy, as a freaking adult, didn’t want to call her mom sometimes when problems became too much. “But that would wake Cass up, and she gets grumpy when we wake her up. So…”
Andy isn’t a detective by any means. She thought about going down that path for a while before college, but she quickly changed her mind after her school took the students on a field trip to meet a few universities. They showed them a dead body, preserved for science purposes, and that was when Andy decided that, nope, she’s not going to be a detective or a doctor, thank you.
But she is an investigative journalist, and most of the articles she has written so far involved at least some connecting dots. Besides, Andy had been dating Miranda Priestly for a while and had been her assistant for eight months before that, and to do it, one had to learn to read between the lines. So Andy liked to think she had become quite good at coming to conclusions that would usually take longer for other people.
“So you would go to your mom's room,” Andy declared and waited a second to see if Caroline would object. She didn’t, not like she did with the teddy bear, so Andy was confident she was on the right path. “But you didn’t want to do that tonight because I was there.”
“I heard when you got here,” Caroline said instead of agreeing. “The movie wasn’t over yet but Cass fell asleep.”
“Alright,” Andy replied and then went quiet because she wasn’t sure how to move from there.
Caroline was thirteen and scared. She wanted the comfort only her mother would be able to give, but there was Andy, waltzing into their life. The twins didn’t seem to mind when they started dating and they kind of respected Andy for not flipping a table after all of their little pranks. They even stopped doing them after a while. And they had actually asked Andy to be at their recital and asked Miranda to buy her a Christmas gift in their name. But Andy was still someone outside of their little bubble. She was there a few days and not at others. She had been dating their mom for almost two years now, but they had their reservations and still kept her at a distance. Which was fine, obviously. Andy was sure that the whole divorce of their parents was tough, and watching Stephen go couldn’t be easy either, so it was fine.
And anyway, Andy was sure she wouldn’t be able to avoid the heart attack if she woke up and found Caroline standing beside the bed instead of sitting at the kitchen table.
However, Andy was a very practical person. That’s how she survived Miranda for eight months. There was a problem that needed to be solved and as quickly as possible because they both needed to go back to sleep if they didn’t want to look like zombies in the morning. Not to mention that Caroline should take advantage of the fact that she can still have her mother to chase her fears away. It was only fair.
“Okay,” Andy took a deep breath as she straightened her back and pushed herself away from the chair. “Hope you know your mother snores, so good luck with that. And her alarm is set to five, just so you know. Come on, I will sleep in your bed.”
Andy was once again reminded that thirteen isn’t old at all when Caroline didn’t try to argue. She looked relieved and her shoulders dropped like the claws of fear had already slipped away. When she lay in bed, stealing the covers that surely didn’t hold any of Andy's warmth anymore, she immediately fell asleep, and Andy left the room after grabbing her phone because, without Miranda's alarm, she would need to set one for herself.
When Andy returned to the second floor, where the twins' bedrooms were, she was once again reminded of the ongoing architecture project. Caroline and Cassidy had wanted separate rooms for years now, but only recently had Miranda conceded. The construction happening down the hall was the renovation of the rooms that would be theirs, along with the new office thing. Which meant the twins had moved to one of the guest rooms on the other side, which meant they still shared, which meant Cassidy was sleeping like a log when Andy entered.
The twins didn’t usually have single beds usually, but they were using the room that had one bed on each side, and Andy sighed when she realized she would go back to her teenage years as well. Sleeping in a small bed with pink sheets. Great.
She plugged her phone in to charge and lay down. Andy was almost falling asleep when she heard a snore coming from the other bed and, without being able to help herself, she smiled.
[...]
Miranda woke up to the sound of her alarm going off. Her body said it was way too early, but her mind took less than a minute to be alert and ready to go. Years of training, probably.
She only realized something wasn’t right when she heard a grunt on the other side of the bed. Not that Andrea was any happier to be woken by her alarm, and not that she had never expressed her displeasure broadly, but that was usually followed by an arm wrapped in a blanket sneaking out to curl around Miranda's waist. Every single time.
So, when that didn’t happen, Miranda opened her eyes already trying to remember what she might have said to start a fight when she didn’t mean to. Ever since she started dating Andrea, Miranda had been quite pleased to learn she liked the quietude of a tranquil love. No need to start random fights or anything. Just exist together.
However, she soon realized that wasn’t the case because she wasn’t met with the wild dark hair splashed all over the pillow, sometimes even inside Andrea's mouth for some mysterious reason. Instead, she saw red. And, since she had no inclination to sleep with some other former assistant, Miranda was sure one of her daughters had sneaked in.
Caroline, she guessed, because Cassidy would surely have woken her up. For someone who hated to be woken by other people, Cassidy surely didn’t follow her own rules. There was no way Cassidy would enter her room without waking up the entire street.
Miranda raised her head from the pillow in search of Andrea but didn’t find her, which meant that either the woman had left in the middle of the night, something she didn’t do ever since they stopped pretending this was just some type of sort-of-friends-but-actually-former-coworkers-with-benefits, or she was already awake and out of bed. Either option sounded absurd.
Luckily, she was spared having to guess because Caroline chose that moment to let out another groan. “Geez, mom. Why do you wake up so damn early?”
“Language,” was the first thing Miranda thought about saying, followed by: “And do pronounce your words correctly, Caroline.”
Caroline's answer was another groan and then, because she was a true teenager, she rolled to her back and threw the pillow onto her face. Miranda rolled her eyes and got up from the bed. Caroline didn’t have to be up for another hour, at least, and she wouldn’t be the one making her be awake if she didn’t have to. However, she still needed to figure out why Caroline was there in the first place.
“Did I drink too much wine last night, or did you sneak in during the night?” Miranda asked while she put on her robe.
“Hmmm,” Caroline mumbled under the pillow. Miranda rolled her eyes again and walked around the bed to take the pillow from her daughter's face. Caroline hadn’t stopped talking, so Miranda only heard half of it. “... met Andy in the kitchen. She said I could sleep here.”
“And where is Andrea sleeping?”
Caroline cracked one eye open, unimpressed. “Suppose she didn’t want to share with Patricia, so she must be in my bed.” It only took one pointed look from Miranda for Caroline to remember the fact that being a teenager didn’t mean she was the queen of the world. “Sorry, mom.”
Miranda, feeling blissful this morning, only put the pillow back on Caroline's face before turning around to walk to the bathroom. She was smiling when she walked away because, yes, having teenage daughters was a living hell sometimes, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Miranda went on with her morning routine as any other day even if she kept wondering why her daughter had wandered to her bed in the middle of the night. When she left the shower, however, Caroline was back to sleeping and Miranda decided to give her a few more minutes before demanding she get up and get ready for school. The editor quickly changed, put on the best jewels to go with her clothes, grabbed her cellphone and The Book, and exited the bedroom while quietly closing the door behind herself.
Her first stop was at the guest room that was serving as an improvised bedroom for her daughters, the impatient little gremlins who refused to wait until they were away for vacation to have their room decorated. The door was ajar and Miranda pushed it open quietly. The first thing she saw was Patricia lying on her back, fur definitely getting into places it wasn’t supposed to inside the house, tongue dangling from her mouth and one paw moving as if she was having a dream. The dog didn’t even move, which made Miranda roll her eyes because, honestly, so much for safety. Next, she saw an empty bed by the window, neatly done and pillows fluffed. She knew Cassidy was sleeping by the window and, between both twins, she was the only one who made her bed, so she was certain that her daughter was already up somewhere in the house.
Lastly, her eyes moved to the other bed. There was Andrea. The young woman had her feet dangling from the end of the bed and her calves were uncovered but, other than that, Andrea was rolled up in a blanket that was far too small for her. And had Barbies all over its very bright pink background. It was endearing in a way Miranda didn’t expect it to be. It made her sigh and grab the door handle a bit tighter and wonder why life had been cruel enough to her to make her wait so damn long for Andrea to show up.
She glanced at the wristwatch she had put on that morning to make sure Andrea still had a few more minutes to sleep before she closed the door and walked down the stairs to the kitchen. Miranda heard Cassidy before she saw her and, sure enough, when she rounded the corner, her daughter was sitting at the table with the newest game-console-whatever-name-it-is in her hands.
“No screen at the table, Bobbsey,” Miranda recited for what felt, and probably was, the hundredth time.
“Caroline ate chocolate last night,” Cassidy replied without looking up.
Miranda hid her huff as she walked to the coffee machine to get it going. Aside from a kiss from Andrea, that coffee machine was the only reason she got up so early every morning. “What are you doing up?”
“I had to go to the bathroom and then I saw Andy. Thought I was living 13 Going On 30.”
Miranda smiled at the emotionless voice charged with mischief. Cassidy was funny without meaning to be, something Andrea said she got from Miranda, which is just ridiculous. “Your sister is sleeping in my room, so I suppose I got the other end of the movie, then.” She poured herself a large cup of coffee, no sugar, and then pulled another mug from the cabinet. The lime green one that Andrea loved because it was chipped by the handle.
“It has personality,” she had said. “It’s perfect in its own imperfect way.”
Miranda thought it was stupid. Didn’t say it aloud, however, because she thought it was perfect that Andrea wanted to have a favorite mug in her home. Even an imperfect one.
“Aren’t you going to say anything about Caro eating chocolate?” Cassidy asked right after huffing and putting her game down. Lose, apparently.
“How do you know she ate chocolate?” Miranda put two spoons of sugar before pouring the coffee into the green mug, knowing full well that Andrea would add another one after taking a sip and making a face.
“Guessed,” Cassidy teased. Miranda turned around with one eyebrow arched and Cassidy immediately sighed. “She left the wrapper on the counter.”
Miranda hummed as she returned to her task of making coffee. “What do you want to eat this morning?”
“I think she had a nightmare.”
Miranda had been trying not to have one sister talking about the other since they were little kids. She wanted them to be close and not tell each other secrets on the other’s back. She wanted them to trust each other and always have one another, no matter what. It was something Miranda never had with her own siblings. It was something she really wanted her daughters to have. That said, she had tried to steer the subject away from Caroline’s night adventures, though that clearly wasn’t going to work.
It took her a second to realize it was because Cassidy was worried about her sister and not because she was just being a telltale. But, when she did, Miranda rounded the table to put one arm around Cassidy’s shoulder while also leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “I will talk to her, don’t you worry, Bobbsey. It was just a bad dream. Did you sleep well, though?”
“Yeah,” Cassidy accepted the hug for a few more seconds before shrugging her away because, apparently, that’s what teenagers do with their parents. “Other than waking up to see your girlfriend there.”
“Sorry.” Said girlfriend, although Miranda didn’t like using that particular word, entered the kitchen while dragging her feet, eyes swollen and hair a mess, but she had a tiny smile on her lips and made a quick stop to mess up Cassidy’s hair before picking up the mug that Miranda had filled for her. “Didn’t mean to scare you, but the other rooms feel like sleeping inside a coffin. Lifeless.” She raised the mug to take a sip of coffee while looking at Miranda with a spark behind her eyes. Miranda rolled her eyes and drank her own coffee to hide her smile.
“Suppose it’s okay,” Cassidy replied.
Andrea put the mug on the counter and finally, oh finally, approached Miranda to kiss her cheek. Miranda quietly hummed at the feeling of Andrea’s hand sneaking around her waist and the hot breath hitting her skin. When she took a step back, Andrea looked at Cassidy. “You snore, by the way.”
Cassidy’s reaction could only be described as outrage. “I do not!”
“You do,” Andrea calmly confirmed, nodding along. Miranda took a sip of her coffee.
“I don’t!” Cassidy crossed her arms.
Andrea laughed. “Don’t worry, your mom does too.”
“I don’t,” Miranda denied it with an even tone, consciously policing herself to stop a crinkle from appearing between her eyebrows. She has enough wrinkles as it is.
“Sure, sure,” the young woman smiled while adding two more spoons of sugar into her coffee. “So, do you think it’s safe for me to go get changed or will I give another daughter of yours a heart attack?”
Miranda looked down at her watch. Andrea had to leave soon, she was aware of that, and Caroline had to wake up in a few minutes if she wanted to spend half an hour applying make-up as she’s been doing for the last few days. She sighed. “You go, wake her up if you can. Don’t need to rush, though. I will ask Roy to drop you off.”
“Roy?” Andrea asked, eyes shining, and Miranda did her best to ignore it.
It wasn’t always that she offered to have her private driver take Andrea to work, mostly because Miranda spent a long time hiding the fact that she was dating a much younger woman and then because Andrea once made a comment about how obnoxious she felt being driven to places by an employee, which Miranda took to heart. There they were, though. Miranda wanted a few more minutes to live that moment and, well, Andrea would have to deal with one day of being driven to work.
“Unless you wish to walk all the way to the dirty building you insist is paying your bills,” Miranda retorted, trying to sound bored.
“Barely,” Andrea huffed in amusement before putting her empty mug in the sink despite how many times Miranda told her to put it in the dish washer. The journalist got closer to her to kiss her cheek one more time and then left the kitchen.
She had barely set her foot out of the door before Cassidy was looking at Miranda in the very annoying way she started to look at her after Andrea entered her life. While she was still just her assistant, mind you. “When are you going to ask her?”
“Ask her what?” Miranda said before she could stop herself and then, because she had her pride, she turned around to open the fridge. “And you didn’t tell me what you want for breakfast yet.”
“Andy said we could grab some donuts from that place near the school next time she sleeps here,” Cassidy said and waited for Miranda to look at her before adding, deadpan: “It’s next time.”
Miranda closed the fridge, biting the inside of her cheek to hold back a smile. “How lucky for you, I would say.”
“And you didn’t tell me when you’re going to ask her.”
Miranda sat down, mug between her hands, legs crossed at the knees and studied her daughter for a few seconds. Cassidy was the oldest by only five minutes. For five minutes, it was only the two of them against the world. Their father wasn’t even in the room when they were born, too busy celebrating with his own friends before showing up reeking of cigar and scotch, so it was only them. For five minutes.
And then Caroline came crashing in, screaming at the top of her lungs, and joined them with chubby red cheeks.
But Cassidy was still the oldest and Miranda, for whatever sentimental reason, found herself answering the question. “Tell her what, exactly?”
“That you want her to move in,” Cassidy replied with a shrug. “Or that you want to get married, I don’t know. Whatever.”
Miranda arched one eyebrow. “What makes you think that?”
Cassidy’s look was familiar because Miranda had seen her own reflection when she told one of her employees to stop with the stupidity. Thankfully, her daughter wasn’t brave enough to say those words to her, though it was very clear in the way she was being looked at. Miranda was proud. “Uh, hello? The office? The fact that you barely let Andy out of here anymore. It’s starting to feel a bit like captivity. Or maybe it’s because you clearly love her, mom.” And then she had the audacity to roll her eyes. Miranda let it pass this time. “Don’t worry, we like her. I mean, she’s not cool, she’s quite a nerd actually, and it seems like she lost all sense of fashion when she stopped working for you, but we like her.”
Miranda waited a beat, then another, until her heart settled inside her chest. “I was waiting to ask you girls if you would mind when we travel next week. I would like to have Andrea living with us. Though I don’t wish to bring anyone you don’t wish to be here to live under the same roof as you.”
“It’s fine,” Cassidy repeated and then grabbed her game again. “I don’t mind and Caro doesn't mind either. As long as we can keep doing things just the three of us every once in a while, like our vacation thing next week.”
Miranda tried not to get offended by the fact that her daughter called their very well-planned trip to Greece a ‘vacation thing’. “Of course, Cassidy.”
“Not that she can’t do things with us too. Andy is nice and…” She looked up, a frown in place. “Don’t tell her that, but she’s cool.”
“I thought she wasn’t cool,” Miranda said evenly.
Cassidy huffed. “She isn’t.”
Miranda didn’t try to understand. “Well, I’m glad to hear it. As I said, I don’t want to make you girls uncomfortable. If you don’t want her here, then she’s not going to be here.”
“Yeah, totally fine,” her daughter shrugged, another thing teenagers do a lot, apparently. “Besides, you’re kind of old, so you can’t waste any time, right?”
“Cassidy Priestly!”
Cassidy laughed loudly. “I’m joking, mom! Don’t worry, really. And don’t worry about what Andy will say. She’s going to say yes, and then you will have to find a place for her ugly shoes. It’s going to be okay.”
“What makes you think I’m worried?”
Another pointed look. “Because you still haven’t asked.”
“Asked what?” Andrea returned to the kitchen fully dressed and with Caroline tagging behind her while jumping up and down, hands on the tall woman’s shoulders while doing a poor imitation of a train.
Miranda rolled her eyes.
Wondered if she really wanted that for her life.
Realized, for the millionth time, that yes, she did.
Smiled.
“Already departing, Andrea? I’ve heard that you promised them donuts next time you came around and, well, it is next time.”
Andrea stepped out of Caroline’s way with a pout. “Really? Oh, man, I guess I’m going to go then.” She smiled then and looked at the girls. “If you’re not ready to leave in fifteen minutes, we’re going nowhere, so hurry up.”
It was more effective than any other thing Miranda had ever told them. Cassidy and Caroline ran from the kitchen so fast that Miranda didn’t even have the time to tell them not to run inside the house. Once they were gone, Andrea, now with her teeth brushed, pulled a chair to sit beside Miranda and gave her a quick kiss on the lips.
“How did you sleep?” The young journalist asked while taking a banana from the fruit bowl.
“Think I should be the one asking that,” Miranda said while fighting a frown. She would spend the rest of the day with a burning throat if she ate a banana with her coffee. “Why did my daughter kick you out, exactly?”
Andrea placed a manicured hand in front of her mouth to say: “Nightmare, and I offered,” and then kept eating the rest of her banana as if she hadn’t made Earth stop moving for a few seconds.
Because Stephen never said anything, not really, but Miranda knew he wouldn’t have taken it too kindly if one of her daughters showed up in their bed in the middle of the night, and he had been their stepfather for nearly a decade. Caroline would only climb beside her when Stephen was on one of his business trips, though her daughter hadn’t done anything like it for quite a few years. And now Andrea was willingly changing places with her daughter while not making a big deal out of it.
“By the way, did you know that that Barbie blanket is softer than your fancy Egyptian blankets?” Andrea placed the banana peel on the table and pulled out her phone. “If that’s okay with you, the girls can go to school straight from the donut place. Also, I can’t make it tonight because I will be across town interviewing that girl who used to work at the bank that got mugged, but maybe we could take Patricia to—”
“Thank you.”
Miranda spoke before she realized what she was saying. Andrea looked up from her phone with her eyes wide, eyebrows raised, thumbs frozen in the middle of the text she was writing, and blinking rapidly as if she was trying to catch up on the conversation. Miranda Priestly had never cowered away from anything in life, however, and she wasn’t about to start now.
“My daughters are the most important people in my life,” Miranda declared. “They come first, always.”
“I know,” Andrea pronounced slowly. “I wouldn’t be with you if they weren’t.”
Miranda smiled. “And you don’t need to act so surprised. I have thanked you before.”
“Once, if I recall.” The brunette accused.
“Well,” Miranda took a deep breath while pushing her chair back, “that’s twice more than anyone else in the world has ever received from me, so you should count that as a victory.” As she walked to the washing machine, Miranda allowed her hand to brush against Andrea’s shoulder. “The girls will need to go straight to school so they won’t be late. They will go to their father after that. Do you want me to get Emily to get us a table at your favorite restaurant for tonight?”
“First of all, her name is Lilianne, you know this.” She did. Andrea knew she did. That didn’t mean she would start pronouncing it any time soon. Secretly, Miranda thought Andrea liked that she kept calling her assistants ‘Emily’ and not ‘Andrea’. “Second, you don’t need to book a table at Taco Bell.”
Miranda rolled her eyes as she returned to the table, placing a hand on her hip and using the other one as a support against the wooden surface. She looked down at Andrea, who was already looking up to meet her eyes, a small smile in place, and arched one brow. “There is a long list of things I would do for you, Andrea. I’m sure you’re aware of that. And, if you’re not, I should start to rethink the way I treat you.”
Knowing where this was going, Andrea’s smile got bigger. She placed her elbows on the table and propped her chin on top of her hands. “But…?”
“I’m never setting foot in a place named after Mexican food and a farm object.”
Andrea laughed and also got up after she heard a door closing on the floor above them. “That’s fine. I still love you, despite that. Don’t you want to join us?”
“No,” Miranda replied and happily accepted the soft kiss pressed against her cheek.
“After the girls’ rooms are done, can I keep the bed from the guestroom? It’s actually better than the one I have at my apartment.”
Miranda watched as the other woman opened the fridge to take a few things from inside. By the looks of it, she was about to make toast. “There’s nothing stopping you from sleeping there every night.” It was a hidden invitation. A way to dip her toe to feel the water temperature.
Andrea applied butter to the bun. “I will take it if I can keep the Barbie blanket.” And the water was warm, apparently. Miranda breathed in and exhaled slowly. Andrea put the bun in the toaster. Clocks kept ticking, world kept spinning.
“We’re ready!” The twins shouted before they even reached the kitchen and, seconds later, they skidded to a halt just a few inches before they knocked the table.
“Don’t run inside the house,” Miranda reminded them. “And no shouting either.”
Andrea’s hand touched her waist as the girls were apologizing. Miranda turned her head so they could share a quick kiss, ignoring how the fake apologies turned into fake disgusted sounds. “The toast is yours. Eat before you leave,” Andrea said. “I’m kidnapping your daughters now.”
“Good luck,” Miranda replied. “I will be expecting the call.”
“How much are you going to charge mom to give us back, Andy?” Caroline laughed.
“Oh, no,” the editor cut in. “She will be offering me money to give you back.”
“Mom!” The twin girls railed in unison while Andrea guffawed.
“Let’s go, let’s go,” Andrea urged them between laughs. “We don’t want to be late.”
Even if they were still complaining about Miranda’s joke, Caroline and Cassidy said their goodbyes. They were already rushing to the door when they shouted: “Love you!”
Miranda was sure they didn’t hear when she said: “No shouting!”
And Andrea was already following them, yelling even louder: “Love you!”
Miranda shook her head while taking a deep breath. “I love you too,” she whispered to the now empty room. “All of you.”