Part 11
Living Seconds
For Miranda Priestly, life didn't exist day-by-day. It occurred in the seconds that coalesced into a construct of her waking existence. The seconds added up to the minutes, the minutes into hours, and the hours into the days and so on. So, when everything came together and the present quickly became the past, sometimes all Miranda could come up with was to silently ask herself, 'what the hell was I thinking?'.
The phone had woken her up at exactly 3:07AM, and even though her caller ID only identified the number displayed as "Unknown", she knew who was calling her. It was a number she had dialed enough, thought of dialing enough, that only an early quick acting onset of Alzheimer's or amnesia could make her forget it.
There were only two seconds between the rings. In the first two seconds she had already imagined picking up the phone. Her curiosity pushed her to answer, but her pride held her back. It wouldn't let her fall to the beck and call of anyone.
Two more seconds passed. Miranda's curiosity turned from docile wonderings into vicious musings involving hospitals, ambulances, and the worst acts committed by the inhumane. Three o'clock phone calls weren't often made for idle chit chats about the weather.
Two more seconds. Miranda's hand reached out for the phone and made contact. She weighed the consequences of her possible actions, and then she decided which regret she could best reconcile herself with.
"What is it you want, Andrea?"
"Miranda?" Andrea sounded surprised.
"Did you forget which number you were dialing?" Miranda refused to make this any easier for Andrea than she already had. "Who did you expect to answer? God?"
"No, I um… You know what? I'm sorry; I don't know what I'm doing. I should just go I'm…"
"Do not hang up," Miranda interrupted. "Don't you dare hang up. You made a decision to call me; don't back out now." She had committed to this conversation when she had picked up the phone and she damn well expected Andrea to do the same. "So, Andrea, what is it you want?"
"I…I…"
"Your impulsivity, while an asset, can also be a great detriment to you." Miranda sat up in her bed, embracing a role she was more familiar with than Andrea could possibly understand. Andrea had no way of knowing that Miranda had plenty of individuals always secretly lining up to seek out her guidance.
Everyone had always respected Miranda for her blunt honesty, but for some reason thought they were exempt from her ambition. They ignorantly divulged their secrets and always had the audacity to be surprised when Miranda used their words against them. They always remembered her betrayal, and always seemed to forget that her guidance had also pushed them towards success. Nigel was one of the few that bothered to remember her kindness over the harshness of her betrayal.
"You only partially commit to your decisions," Miranda continued on when Andrea's silence stretched out past her threshold of patience. "You left
Runway because you couldn't commit to your own ambition, and then returned to your life with the same lack of commitment. You are an adult now, Andrea; it is well past time you start accepting the full responsibility for who you are and what you want."
"And if I do that?" Andrea managed to ask. "Then what? I end up like you without real friends and alone."
Miranda pursed her lips. "Do not assume that you know me, Andrea."
"Well, don't assume that you know me either!"
"I do know you," Miranda hissed. "I used to be you." Miranda quickly reminded herself that she had answered the phone with the intent of denying any regrets that might form from whatever type of conversation that might come to pass. "Do you honestly think I just woke up one morning and was 'Miranda Priestly the Dragon Lady, Snow Queen'?"
"I don't want that, Miranda," Andrea weakly defended herself. "When I wake up in the morning twenty years from now, I still want to see Andrea Sachs."
Miranda waved Andrea's words away. "That is simply impossible. No one wakes up twenty years in the future and sees the exact same person they used to be. No matter what choices we make, Andrea, we will always see a stranger looking back at us in the mirror."
"I can't accept that," Andrea said so softly that Miranda had hardly heard her. "I want to be happy."
Miranda rested her forehead in her hand. "Happiness is not impossible." She closed her eyes. "I believe you can have that."
Miranda heard Andrea's breath hitch. "But you're not happy."
"Because I'm bad at it." Miranda knew she would regret admitting that, but she knew Andrea was worse off thinking that she would somehow evolve into a carbon copy of Miranda Priestly. Miranda believed that Andrea could find happiness, and she believed Andrea would be strong enough to hold onto it.
"You're bad at being happy?" Andrea sounded confused.
"No," Miranda whispered. "I'm bad at recognizing it, and don't know how to keep it."
"Oh…"
"Yes," Miranda laughed softly. "Oh."
Hey, Miranda?" Andrea eventually filled in the silence Miranda no longer felt like filling with her personal confessions. "I know I asked before and I know you didn't take me seriously and I'm not sure I was really serious when I asked, but will you have lunch with me? Today?"
Miranda killed the immediate refusal that her lips were forming. "Why would you ever want to do a thing like that?" If she couldn't say no, she wasn't going to just agree without trying to put up a fight.
"Because," Andrea cleared her throat, "I think I actually want you to be my friend."
The bark of laughter that escaped couldn't have been held back even if she had known it was coming. "Have you lost your mind?"
"I think so," Andrea replied through her own laughter. "But," her laughter quieted, "I still want to have lunch with you."
Miranda closed her eyes as she shook her head. "I refuse to meet with you at McDonalds."
"Oh, I only go there on Mondays," Andrea's voice was shaking slightly. "We can eat at that place I ate that one time where I enjoyed that dish I ordered."
This time Miranda held back her laughter, but she didn't bother to try and stop her smile. She understood Andrea's joke and she also understood that Andrea was taking a huge risk in making it. Not many people had the mettle it took to try and joke with her about the vague orders she often gave to her assistants. Many people just assumed she had no sense of humor and was viciously obtuse for no reason except to humiliate others. Andrea had been one of the few that had eventually realized that seeing the details, being observant of everyone and everything was more important than any other lesson Miranda could give.
"Fine, I'll meet you there at twelve-fifteen."
Miranda hung up the phone before Andrea had a chance to reply. She would let Andrea get away with the attempt at humor, but she would have the last laugh. Now, Andrea would have to figure out where to be at noon. Sometimes, Miranda did take a certain amount of joy away from her nebulous directions. It was oftentimes amusing to watch so many people running around trying to figure out exactly what it was she wanted, complicating things that were terribly simple.
One of her own mentors had used this method on her, and Miranda remembered how Margaret had always had a bit of a smirk on her face as she carefully watched Miranda run around trying to fulfill requests that should have been relatively straightforward. Miranda would see Margaret's smirk and on more than one occasion would silently wish that her boss died a slow and painful death.
Margaret would look right back at her, smirk still in place as if she could read Miranda's spiteful desires. She never said anything to Miranda about it until the last day Miranda worked for her. She asked Miranda to sit down and after letting Miranda sit for a full minute said, "I know you hate me and are more than ready to walk out those front doors without a single glance back. You just want to forget everything about your experiences here, but I see more potential in you than I've ever seen so I'm going to share something with you before you leave." Margaret then leaned forward and captured Miranda's eyes, refusing to let them go. "You think you've learned nothing from me, but let me ask you this: when's the last time you couldn't do something I asked of you?"
Miranda had narrowed her eyes, not at all sure what any of this had to do with her collecting her last check. "I don't know," she had flippantly answered.
"No Miranda," Margaret had shaken her head. "You do know. You recognize more details in this visual world than you could before. That skill will get you further in life than anything else. Don't waste it, because I'd like to live long enough to see a woman like you change the world. You're going to be a pioneer, Miranda, and pioneers need to see and hear everything because too many people are going to try and destroy you just because of who and what you are."
Margaret had then handed over Miranda's last check and wished Miranda luck. Miranda had left Margaret not at all understanding what her boss had meant, but it didn't take very long for her to learn. After Miranda had been told to shut up and to just sit and look pretty for what seemed the hundredth time, she went back to Margaret for help. Margaret had given what advice she could, but she would often let Miranda learn her own sometimes difficult lessons. The years went by and Miranda's professional success exceeded everyone's expectations except her own and Margaret's.
Margaret had died before Miranda had taken up her role at
Runway, but as Miranda had sat down at the dinner given in honor of her new position, she made a point to silently toast the woman who had helped get her there. She still sent flowers to Margaret's grave and would until her own death.
Miranda laid back and closed her eyes. She wondered if Andrea would one day look at her as Miranda had looked upon Margaret. Would she see a mentor, a person she respected above many others? Andrea had said that she wanted to be friends. Miranda had never asked Margaret to be her friend. She had never considered it, although she was positive that somehow along the way they had become more than acquaintances.
Part of Miranda was irritated that she couldn't immediately decipher all of Andrea's motives. The writer was being unpredictable and that made Miranda become unpredictable in return. She was unsure she could realistically attempt to be Andrea's friend. Miranda had always been more apt at making enemies than she was at making friends. She suspected for Andrea it was the exact opposite. She imagined that Andrea was surrounded by a large group of friends that weren't secretly planning to stab her in the back.
It was nearing four in the morning and Miranda knew she couldn't go two nights without any sleep. Her girls were returning and many things needed to get taken care of. So, Miranda pushed away her questions about Andrea and forced her body to relax. She would rearrange her entire schedule so that she could meet Andrea for lunch. Andrea was obviously not the only one that had lost her mind.
***
Miranda walked into her office early, causing many who walked along
Runway's halls to cower away. Everyone assumed Miranda was terribly unhappy with the latest from the Sephora shoot, and she would have been if she had seen the catastrophe it had become. The true reason why she had come in early was so that she could keep her lunch with Andrea on her schedule.
Even if the lunch with Andrea turned out to be the worst decision she ever made, Miranda would consider the effort she was making worth it just from the look Emily had given her when she told her first assistant to call Andrea and confirm their lunch meeting at that place she ate that had the flowers in front. Emily had choked on her own spit and was on the verge of actually asking Miranda a question, but managed to contain herself. She shouldn't have been too surprised by Miranda's request. After all, Andrea was a contributing writer for
Runway, and it wasn't unheard of for Miranda to have lunch meetings with those involved with the magazine. It was quite common actually; it just wasn't common for her to make former assistants contributing writers.
Miranda made sure to arrive at the restaurant early, and was pleasantly surprised to see Andrea already waiting outside for her. She walked up to Andrea, refusing to allow the moment to turn awkward. "I assume you were talking about this place?"
Andrea looked confused but understanding lit up her eyes within moments. "Actually," she smiled, "I was talking about McDonalds but this will do, too."
Miranda rolled her eyes and then continued on in. They were immediately seated and it didn't take long for Miranda to realize that Andrea's slightly glassy eyed look was probably due to alcohol consumption. "Andrea, have you been drinking?"
Andrea shook her head, "No. I mean yes." Her eyes lifted up away from the menu.
"Why?"
Andrea blinked a couple of times. "Why what?"
Miranda only lifted an eyebrow. She refused to repeat herself.
"Oh." Andrea dropped her menu. "I wanted to make sure I showed up."
"Really?" Miranda refused to smile. "Aren't you the one that invited me out to lunch?"
"Aquarius said it was a bad idea, but Miranda you honestly scare the hell out of me and when I asked I didn't really expect you to say yes."
"Aquarius?" Miranda would think there was no longer any hope for Andrea if she asked phantom astrological signs for advice.
"Lily's cousin. She's in town for my engagement party." Andrea's attention went back to her menu.
Miranda sighed. "Your engagement party?"
Andrea nodded. "Nate was going to propose and Lily and Doug decided to throw an engagement party for us before I even said yes. I think my parents are arriving for it tonight."
Miranda looked at Andrea, weighing the benefits of continuing this line of conversation and quickly came to a decision. "The girls are coming home tonight as well. I recommend you get the pasta."
Andrea laughed. "You know, I was hoping you would say something like that. I really don't want to talk about how my personal life is falling to pieces."
"I understand." And Miranda did understand. She understood what was happening better than Andrea did, and had already shared so much about her personal life that morning that she felt no need to expose herself further.
They ordered their meals and talked about very little. Miranda mentioned the Sephora fiasco and Andrea talked about getting another job to keep her afloat while she tried making a living as a freelance writer. Nothing new was confessed and nothing was going to be.
When all was said and done, lunch had been…not unpleasant. It wasn't exactly companionable and Andrea had been stubbornly insistent on paying for the lunch even though they both knew she couldn't afford it, but as Miranda made her way back to
Runway she realized that perhaps one day she could consider Andrea a friend, and that realization scared her.
She knew her feelings towards Andrea had somehow veered away from indifference, and she accepted that. She could handle that. She was well-versed in denying her desire, but she was terrible at denying general affection since she felt it so infrequently. Miranda was beginning to genuinely enjoy Andrea's company. She was starting to look at Andrea and see someone she cared for, not just loved.
Miranda knew that her life happened in the seconds. She had given into her emotions for Andrea the second she had decided to answer her door when Andrea had first come back. All those seconds added together had equaled Andrea becoming a part of her life. The days had run together and now she was helpless to control something she had given into the second she had opened her door.
"What the hell was I thinking?" Miranda softly asked herself, not caring if Roy heard her or not.
She didn't bother to answer, because she knew she hadn't been. She knew she hadn't wanted to, and that she hadn't even tried, and that she wouldn't try to think about any of it now. Miranda had to focus on her work. Her girls were coming home. She couldn't be bothered to figure out what the beginnings of happiness felt like, and couldn't be bothered to figure out if that was actually what she was feeling.
Continued