Work Text:
She is halfway through biting into her scone when her phone rings.
Andrea looks down and is a little surprised to see the name flashing on her screen; this hardly ever happens, at least not on a Saturday afternoon. Even if they are in an amicable friendship and they do exchange texts and go out for lunches together, Emily Charlton isn’t one to call her on a weekend she usually utilises to spend time with her children.
So immediately, Andrea puts down the scone, wipes her hand on the napkin on the table and swipes to answer the phone. “Emily? Hi!”
She doesn’t immediately hear Emily’s voice; the other end is slightly muffled as she hears something akin to a ruckus happening in the background, followed by Emily’s voice shouting do not do that, Roark! How many times do I need to—God!
Andrea quirks an eyebrow, but waits for her friend to return to her phone, which Emily does exactly two seconds after. “Andy! So sorry,”
Emily sounds completely breathless, and for a split second, Andrea is worried. “Is everything okay? Sounds a bit chaotic back there.”
She hears a groan, and Emily replies. “Roark doesn't usually misbehave like this, but he is in a mood because of his father. He promised to bring them to Disneyland but—” She pauses abruptly, as if unsure why she is even divulging this to Andrea. “--anyway, that’s not why I called. I hope this isn’t a bad time.”
Lily returns from the cafe’s washroom just then, and doesn’t seem to mind that her best friend is on the phone, “Oh no, not at all. What is it?”
“It’s just,” Emily sighs again, “I don’t know who else to call.”
Andrea sits up straighter immediately, concern etched on her face. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, but there’s an emergency that I need to attend to at work. And I need…I need a favour from you,”
The hesitation from Emily seems to be telling, knowing she isn’t one to simply ask a favour unless it is extremely important. And from what Andrea knows about Emily, there can only be one reason for her to go out of her usual way to contact Andrea for this favour. She connects the dots faster, and finishes Emily’s sentence for her.
“You need me to watch your kids for you,”
Her tone is more of a statement than a question, and Andrea could hear Emily sighing again from the other line. “Would that be too much of a hassle?”
“Of course not, Emily.” Andrea assures her warmly, “Text me your address and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“You would really do that for me? I owe you one, Andy, really.”
As soon as Andrea gets off the phone, Lily’s hand reaches forward to grab her free hand resting on the table. “Hold your horses Andy Sachs, is that the Emily you’ve been telling me about?”
Andrea simply nods, pushing her plate forward to indicate that she is done eating. “What are the chances you will kill me if I cut our date short because I need to help her babysit while she attends to a work emergency?”
“Zero,” Lily is quick to wave her hands, as if to dismiss her. “I’m a mother too, I understand. Go.”
Andrea is already halfway out of her seat as she throws Lily another apologetic smile. “You’re the best, I swear.”
Lily simply shrugs and watches her friend practically scramble out of the cafe in a record time. Lily catches the smile on her face as she thinks to herself — if only her best friend knew how obvious she is acting at the moment.
Emily does not have the luxury of time to greet Andrea properly when she arrives; she squeezes her arm in gratitude and gives her a quick rundown of where certain things are in her house, what her children are allergic to, and what they should be eating for dinner tonight. Andrea sees Bronwyn and Roark watching a cartoon in the living room, and the two pre-teens only give their mother a half-hearted reaction when she bends down to give them a kiss on their foreheads.
“Mummy will be back real soon, in the meantime, please be nice to Andy, alright?”
Andrea couldn’t help but smile at the interaction she sees in front of her; seeing Emily in a way she’s never seen before, her eyes crinkling into a smile of adoration for her two children. It makes Andrea’s heart swell for some reason. And whatever expression Emily had on her face seeing her children seems to linger even when she stands straight and meets her eyes across the room.
“I owe you one, really,” Emily repeats with an expression of apology on her face as she starts for the door. “and I promise I will explain everything to you when I’m back.”
“You do not need to worry about anything,” Andrea assures her, and Emily gives her one last smile before disappearing into the corridor.
When she turns back to face the living room, the two children are already looking at Andrea. She waves as enthusiastically as she can and smiles, “Hi! Roark and Bronwyn, correct? I am Andy.”
Roark frowns. “Why is your name Andy when you are a girl?”
Bronwyn nudges her brother’s arm. “Don’t be rude!”
“Oh no, don’t worry about it,” Andrea chuckles, knowing that the boy had no malicious intent when he asked the question, only curiosity. “My name is actually Andrea, but people call me Andy for short. I think it’s a cool nickname.”
“Well, if you didn’t think it was cool, you wouldn’t be using it now.” Bronwyn states, almost plainly, in a manner that nearly sends Andrea into fits of laughter. She is definitely Emily’s daughter all right.
“You are right about that,” Andrea agrees, smiling at the two children. Then the conversation stops and she doesn’t quite know what to say next. “So…”
“You don’t have to watch us every second, really.” Roark remarks without tearing his eyes away from the television screen. “We can take care of ourselves. Mum’s just afraid we might burn the house down or something.”
Bronwyn pipes in cheerfully, “But we won't. Because we are not little children anymore.”
“Right.” Andrea agrees, “But is there anything you want to do together, or anything you want to talk about?”
“No thank you.” Roark’s reply is fast and curt. Bronwyn agrees by shrugging her shoulders.
Andrea nods and shifts away towards the dining area, sliding into the chair that gives her a good view of the living room, “Okay, but if you need me, I’ll be right here.”
Bronwyn is the one that answers her this time, “Don’t think so, but sure.”
As if dealing with one Emily isn’t enough, now she needs to deal with two mini Emilys; Andrea finds humour in her current situation, laughing to herself as she takes out her laptop to work on her next featured article for Runway.
It is after they've eaten dinner — Emily left specific instructions to heat up some leftovers she had cooked just this morning, a rather delicious meal if Andrea has any say in it — when Bronwyn stands unmovingly beside her by the sink, as if wanting to ask her something.
“Yes, Bronwyn?” Andrea smiles, still busy rinsing off food grease and residue from the plates.
“Do you need any help?” The girl asks with her hands clasped in front of her. Andrea almost laughs seeing how prim and proper she is, and wonders if Emily runs a tight leash in the household. She wouldn’t be surprised if she does.
“Oh no, sweetie. I'm nearly done. You can go do something with your brother if you want.” Andrea looks behind her shoulder to see the boy now perched on the couch again with a game console in his hands. “Roark, one hour only alright? Then you need to do your homework!”
The boy mutters something that Andrea couldn’t catch from a distance, but she figures it's something along the lines of okay but you're not my mother.
“Don’t mind him.” Bronwyn shrugs. “He's in a bad mood because of daddy. He was really looking forward to spending time with him.”
“Oh,” Andrea says in the most non-judgemental tone as she could. “Does your dad uhh…do that often?” She is a little afraid to elaborate what “that” means, but Bronwyn has no issues filling in the gaps for her.
“You mean breaking his promises? Yeah, it's been happening more often lately. Daddy's gotten himself a new girlfriend.”
Andrea couldn't help but gape at the girl's nonchalant answer. Her face shows no emotions, but Andrea knows it would be impossible for Bronwyn not to feel upset like her brother. “And…and how do you feel about that?”
“Fine.” Bronwyn states curtly.
Andrea pauses, turning her entire body to face the girl. She feels for her, really, on how mature she is when she shouldn't have to be. “Hey, listen. It's okay to feel upset, I'm sure your mum would agree.”
“I know.” Bronwyn nods in agreement. “It's just that mummy takes really good care of us. She's the only one I need.”
The corner of Andrea's lips curled upwards; the statement isn't even about her, but her chest swells up with pride. If only Emily could hear this, how elated she would be. Scratch that, Emily probably already knows how much her daughter loves her.
“Your mum is an amazing woman.” She tells the little girl firmly. “You are very lucky to have her, just as how she is very lucky to have you and your brother.”
Bronwyn finally smiles; in a way that reaches her eyes and causes her cheeks to glow in unabashed happiness. Andrea wipes her hand clean before reaching forward to ruffle her hair affectionately, giving a light pat on her cheek next. “So, what do you want to do now? Have you finished your homework?”
The girl nods twice. “I'd like to talk to you more, if that's okay with you?”
Andrea wouldn't have expected that answer from mini Emily, but her face breaks into the widest grin as if she'd just achieved something remarkable. Well, she did actually; gaining the trust of a child and for her to be comfortable around an adult she barely knows, definitely counts as a feat right?
“That sounds lovely. Let me just finish cleaning up and I'll join you shortly.”
Bronwyn nods eagerly and then announces, “I'll be in my room waiting!”
Andrea laughs, and simply nods. So bossy, like her mummy.
Somewhere between an honest conversation about the grievances of school and homework and what Bronwyn wants to become in the future, (I want to follow mummy's footsteps and work in the fashion industry. Roark thinks that's too girly. I think he tends to forget I'm a girl sometimes. He wants to be a football player. // But you can be a football player if you want to, boys aren't the only ones who can. // I don't doubt that. But I don’t want to. When I grow up, I want to be just like mummy), the deep frown on Bronwyn's face is what made Andrea pause in her recollection about a work crisis she had resolved with Emily when they were in Runway together.
“What is it? Did I say something wrong?” Andrea asks, a little worried she may have said something that offended the girl.
“Oh no,” Bronwyn shakes her head, “it's just that…you look awfully familiar.”
Andrea blinks, “I do?”
“It feels like I've seen you before.” The girl frowns further, trying to recount a memory in the deepest recesses of her mind.
“Maybe you saw me on TV or something…” Andrea starts to chuckle.
“Were you though,” Bronwyn doesn't look the least bit convinced. “on TV?”
The chuckle dies in her throat as Andrea clears her throat once and shakes her head gingerly. “...no.”
“Thought so. It isn’t TV, it's something else…” The little girl's eyes widen suddenly as she immediately sits up straighter in her bed. “Wait, I think I remember!”
But Bronwyn doesn't offer Andrea an explanation just yet; the little girl throws her duvet aside and bounces out of bed at the speed of lightning. She rushes out of her room and Andrea starts to follow her, consumed by curiosity.
Andrea pauses right outside of another room which she thinks is Emily's home office - the little girl is already inside going through her mother's things at her desk.
Andrea gawks at the mess she's making as Bronwyn seems to be searching for something inside the drawers of Emily's desk, “Wait, sweetie, are we supposed to be here?”
But Bronwyn ignores her, determination strewn on her face. Andrea takes a deep breath before cautiously crossing the boundary into Emily's personal space. “Bronwyn!”
The girl stops in her movement abruptly, indicating that she has found something. And then, with unadulterated happiness, Bronwyn looks up to meet the adult's gaze.
“You’re Andrea Sachs!”
She's a little confused by the sudden name declaration, especially since Andrea had introduced herself to the kids a few hours ago. “Err, yes, I am her and she is me.”
“Andrea Sachs!” Bronwyn is laughing now as she starts to spread a bunch of…old, brown crusty looking papers across Emily's office desk. “You are mummy's favourite journalist!”
Mummy’s what? The statement makes Andrea raise an eyebrow, but she has started taking careful steps further into the room, towards Bronwyn and the desk. At first, Andrea is confused, unsure of what Emily's daughter had meant.
And then she sees it. No, them.
Andrea's jaw drops slightly, her eyes widening in realisation. She stops at the edge of the desk and sees…
My articles published in the newspapers…
Her eyes roam around the pieces of old articles until she catches the date of the one furthest to the left. Andrea reaches out, carefully picking up the rather frail looking, yet somewhat still in a pristine condition, piece of paper.
She sees the published date, and swears her heart just catches in her throat.
26 November 2006.
It was her first article published in the New York Mirror, some weeks right after she left Runway.
Andrea lets her eyes roam the rest of the newspaper clippings on the desk, in complete awe at the range of dates she is seeing - stretching across the many years until it stops in 2015. Bronwyn stares on with a huge smile on her face. She then takes out something else from the drawers and hands it to Andrea. “I knew I recognised you from somewhere.”
Andrea is now looking at a lifestyle magazine, a job which she landed after she was done writing for newspapers. She turns the pages and stops at the fourth page, where a small, old photograph of her smiling awkwardly stares right back at her. She had been a junior features editor for this magazine for close to three years before finding her calling to chase after bigger stories around the world.
Don't tell me…
“Mummy didn't buy every magazine, obviously. And we lost some when we moved apartments years ago. Mummy kept only the ones that are really important to her.”
Important? Andrea sucks in a breath, still a little dazed at this discovery. Why would these be important to Emily?
“I…wow.” is all Andrea could manage, clearly at a loss for words. “I can't believe Emily kept all of these.”
“I asked mummy before why she kept them.” Bronwyn shrugs, but doesn’t continue her sentence.
“What did she say?” Andrea tries to prompt her to continue, but receives only a sheepish look of apology from the girl.
“I honestly can't remember, sorry.” Bronwyn says. “But knowing mummy, she probably said something like there's no specific reason. I don't believe her though.”
Andrea smiles, clutching the magazine against her chest. She allows herself to continue looking at all — if not, most of — her past articles. All cut carefully from the newspapers, pressed and kept properly in folders. Some of the inks have faded, but some are still intact. Her heart is pounding now, and she presses the magazine closer into her chest. As if to savour this discovery, this moment.
There are probably a hundred different emotions surging across her entire being at the moment. But beyond gratitude and awe, one feeling stands out the most.
Love.
It is past eleven, with both children fast asleep, when Andrea hears the sound of keys slotting through the hole of the door. Almost immediately, she sits up straighter on the couch, smooths her hair and lowers the volume of the television.
A clearly exhausted looking Emily walks through the door before kicking her heels out from her feet. She lets out a low groan of appreciation as her bare feet touch the ground flat, and looks up just in time to catch Andrea looking at her in amusement. “What? Try walking in these for almost the entire day.”
“I understand that feeling completely, Em.” She tells her kindly, watching Emily flash her a sheepish glance as she rounds the couch and sinks into it, right beside Andrea.
“I’m absolutely knackered,” Emily sighs, closing her eyes to rest for a few seconds, “how were the rascals?”
Andrea couldn’t tear her eyes away from Emily. “They were really well behaved, if you must know.”
She opens her eyes and meets Andrea’s gaze. “I’m really glad to hear that. Roark has been…well,” Emily lets her sentence trail off, the crease in her forehead deepening.
“He listened to everything I had to say, even finished his homework before going to bed.” Andrea reports dutifully, knowing it would ease her friend’s worry. “And Bronwyn is the sweetest. We spent nearly the entire night talking.”
“Really?” Emily raises an eyebrow, as if surprised to hear that. “What did you two talk about?”
“School, homework, boys.” Andrea nudges Emily’s arm lightly. “You know, typical things pre-teens are worried about.”
We talked about you, too, Andy thinks fondly, but doesn’t say out loud.
Emily finally smiles, just a little, and without realising, reaches over to squeeze Andrea’s hand. “Thank you, really.”
Andrea returns her smile with one of her own, and squeezes her hand back. The moment comes and goes in a few seconds, as they both retract their hands onto their respective laps afterward. “You’re most welcome, Emily. If you ever need me to do this again, just call.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“I promise you are not imposing.”
In lieu of that comes a period of unbreachable silence. Emily is the first to look away, eyes trained on the ceiling instead. She seems to have a lot of things going on in her mind; Andrea notices it almost immediately from the way her expression is so restless, eyes filled with a turmoil of emotions as she runs her fingers through her red tresses. So she decides to give her space by staying quiet.
Emily is also the first to break that silence. “The flagship store had an event this weekend I was meant to oversee.”
Andrea knows this is her indication that Emily is about to talk to her about what had happened, as she promised she would earlier. Andrea then says, “But you decided to stay at home to be with your children because their father bailed out on them.”
The sigh that leaves Emily’s lips is enough for Andrea to know she is right.
“I would never have allowed a work event to clash with the weekend I have the kids to myself, you must know that Andy.”
“Of course I do, Em.”
As though she is worried Andrea might think the worse of her, Emily is relieved to hear her answer. She continues slowly, “But work called me anyway, said my presence was imperative. My parents are out of town and there was no one else I could have called. Then I thought of you.”
Andrea nods in understanding, appreciating her rare display of vulnerability.
Emily rubs her temples and closes her eyes again. The dam in her heart breaks just then, and she finds herself pouring word after word without stopping. It is as though all her bottled up feelings had finally exploded — or maybe it is because she trusts Andrea so much that she is willing to show the vulnerable side of her to her. Whatever it is, Emily couldn't stop.
“I'm extremely disappointed in Frank.” She starts, “This was his weekend with the kids, but cancelling at the last minute because his girlfriend wanted to go on some holiday spontaneously? How can he do that to his own children? I don't care what he does to me, but to do that to Roark who idolises him to no ends, and Bronwyn who is his only daughter? Bloody hell who even does that?”
Andrea listens quietly, not wanting to interrupt her.
“It’s infuriating because he may have been a lousy husband, but he certainly was not a bad father. But ever since he got a new girlfriend, his priorities have shifted and,” Emily exhales sharply, “I truly resent him for that. Because it means he is choosing her over the kids. And…and there is nothing I can do about it because I am inadequate.”
She stops then; one, to catch her breath, and two, to see if Andrea has freaked out over her sudden emotional dump without warning. Thankfully, Andrea isn’t the least fazed by it. Instead, she reaches forward to hold Emily’s hand, rubbing her thumbs over her knuckles - if Emily is surprised at the sudden physical touch, she doesn’t show it.
“Emily,” The tone of her voice is so sharp that it causes Emily to look at Andrea. “You are not inadequate. You are an amazing mother, and your children love you very much. I really hope you know that. One of the things Bronwyn and I were talking about earlier was just how much she looks up to you, how much she wants to be you when she grows up.”
“Oh god,” Emily groans instantly, “I hope she doesn’t. I’m clearly a wreck, Andy.”
“Far from it, I’d argue.” Andrea states firmly. “You’re Emily Charlton. You’ve accomplished so much while taking care and raising two beautiful children by yourself. I told you before, didn't I? You’re iconic.”
Somehow, Andrea’s words always get to Emily; they pierce through her heart in the most genuine, most sanguine way. She doesn’t know why, or how, but that is just the natural effect Andrea has had on her recently, ever since they agreed to being friends with each other.
Emily doesn’t say anything to that, instead, she gives Andrea a smile of appreciation.
A moment lapse between them, and then Andrea speaks again. Her voice is small and measured when she asks, “Say, did you love him? Frank, I mean.”
Emily is a little surprised to hear that question, but chooses not to think too much of it. She shrugs nonchalantly, “I suppose so. He is the father of my children after all.”
“Yes but…” Andrea hesitates, “were you ever in love with him?”
Emily doesn’t answer at once this time. She looks up at the ceiling again, as if deep in thoughts, and Andrea thinks that she might have overstepped some boundaries with her question, so she starts to apologise. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer if you’re not comfortable.”
“It’s not that,” Emily shakes her head slightly. “The question is…interesting, that is all.”
“How so?”
“Because you made me remember that there is a difference between loving a person and being in love with that person.”
Andrea nods, just once, and waits for her to continue.
“Did I love Frank? Yes, I loved him.” Emily states in a matter of fact tone, “But I don’t think I was ever in love with him.”
That admittance surprises Andrea. “Really?”
“Yes, because…” Emily’s expression softens, “Because I know how it feels like to be in love. It’s a feeling that never truly fades with that person, always lingering at the back of your mind. No matter the time that has passed, twenty years or more.”
The second she finishes her sentence, Emily’s breath catches in her throat. The realisation that she has perhaps said too much, given away too much. Even if her expression is impassive, she could feel her heart thundering beneath her skin as she wills herself not to look away from Andrea’s gaze. Looking away would only be more suspicious, and she doesn’t want that to happen.
She doesn’t want to scare Andrea away. Not when their current relationship has been going so well, not when she’d rather have some of her than none at all.
So she continues to hold Andrea’s gaze, and the other woman seems to be digesting her words slowly. Emily observes Andrea’s expression, sees that it goes from confusion to slow realisation and then…is that relief?
Andrea’s voice comes off as a whisper when she asks, “Are you ever going to tell me?”
And Emily nearly freezes at that question. “What about?”
A few seconds go by with neither of them saying anything. Andrea seems to be mustering some innate bravery when she tells her, “Bronwyn showed me everything, Em. She said I looked familiar.”
Heat rises in Emily’s cheeks as she understands the implication almost at once. When she called Andrea over to help watch after her kids, she never would have expected it to lead to the discovery of what she had done over the past two decades.
“Oh.” is all she could manage as her entire mind blanks out.
“Oh?” Andrea sputters in disbelief, “Emily, not only did you read everything I wrote in the past twenty years, but you kept all the hard copies in your drawers?"
Busted. Completely busted.
She tries not to let her true emotions show. “Don’t flatter yourself too much, Andy. Only those that I found in the newspaper stand on my way to work everyday.”
“Still.”
Emily sighs, unable to meet her eyes. “I just wanted to support you in some ways. It helps that you write about interesting things. I did not read the ones you wrote about over-consumerism and the fall of the housing industry though.”
Andrea laughs. “But you know they exist.”
“Like I said, they were in the newspapers I used to buy everyday on my way—”
“To work, yes, yes.” Andrea shakes her head, still smiling. “Seriously, you surprise me every single day, Emily Charlton.”
“Oh, are we on a full name basis now, Andrea Sachs?”
Andrea pushes her fist into Emily’s arm playfully, and the latter retaliates by slapping her hand away. Their eyes finally meet, and within seconds, they end up bursting into laughter.
“Alright, fine,” Emily admits defeat, “what do you want me to say, honestly? It is true that I’ve been following your articles all this while and merely pretended I didn’t.”
“But why, Emily?”
“I told you earlier—”
“It definitely isn’t just about support, right?” Andrea presses on. “Because Bronwyn said something earlier…”
Emily’s eyebrow shoots up immediately, as if in panic, “What did she say?”
“Something about her asking why you kept all those old newspaper clippings, and how you told her that…” Andrea lets her sentence trail off, hoping Emily would finish it for her. Bronwyn, of course, did not remember what her mother had told her before.
But Emily is smart enough not to fall prey to her trick. She leans back and gives Andrea half a smirk, “Bronwyn didn’t say anything,”
“Damn it,” Andrea throws her hands in the air, still smiling. “Thought I could trick you into telling me, but you’re just too smart, Emily Charlton.”
Emily shrugs nonchalantly. “I’m far ahead of the game if you wish to beat me, Andrea Sachs.”
“Alright, I'll give that to you. But I do have something to say,” Andrea declares suddenly, and waits until Emily is looking at her before she continues firmly—
“I love you too, Emily Charlton.”
Her eyes widen, her breath hitches in her throat. Emily is rendered speechless as Andrea continues in a tone that suggests warmth, assurance, and affection.
“In fact, this might be a good time to tell you that I am in love with you.”
It is a quiet declaration, but one that is full of meaning and future promises. Andrea’s still holding onto her hand, and there is no sign from her that shows she is letting her hand go. Maybe that is why Emily feels the walls she had built around her heart crumbling, her guards lowered. Maybe that is why she starts to realise that being with Andrea — Andy — is her safe space. No, that Andy is her safe haven.
She makes her decision right there and then.
Emily turns her entire body to face her properly, and look into her doe-like eyes, the one she had been smitten over ever since their time in Runway together.
“I won’t tell you what I told Bronwyn, but I’ll tell you something else, Andy Sachs.” The never-ending tease of Andrea’s full name, imitating how she had called her earlier, has her smiling. Emily sucks in her breath and whispers, “I was and still am in love with you too.”
And the confession alone is enough for Andrea’s face to break into the widest possible grin as she calculates mentally the risk of Emily protesting if she is to just lean forward and—
Emily beats her to it as she closes the gap between them, her free hand cradling Andrea's face as she presses her lips against hers. Their first kiss is gentle, unhurried, as if they have all the time in the world. Emily could feel her heart bursting through its seam, could hear her ears ringing as reality starts to sink into her stomach slowly. That she is kissing Andrea, and Andrea is kissing her back. And it isn’t like anything she would ever have imagined. If anything, it is a hundred, no, a thousand times better.
A lifetime of happiness — that is what Emily thinks.