Part 13
Without Answers
Miranda had picked up her girls from the airport, and then tucked them into bed. It hadn't been an overly emotive reunion, but theirs never really ever were. The girls were happy to be away from their father's fiancée and they had brought Miranda back a framed picture of the two of them with surfboards running towards the ocean. Cassidy had made a point to explain that their father had taken the picture and that Rayne had purposefully not been invited to join them. It had been the only outing they had gone on with their father that didn't include the fiancée. Miranda suspected Alain had done the girls a great disservice by not etching more time out of the trip to spend alone with them.
Caroline and Cassidy adored their father and they didn't share his attentions well, especially since they got so little of it. Miranda would talk to him about that if for a single second she believed she would get away with the lecture. The sad truth was that both she and Alain could etch out more time to spend with their daughters. Miranda had promised herself that she would dedicate more time to her children right after she had informed them of the divorce with Stephen, and she had been fulfilling that promise. Well, Miranda silently laughed, she had been fulfilling that promise until she chose her career over her girls...again.
Of course she still did her best to attend all of their recitals and even went to see that silly little play Cassidy had auditioned for at school. She believed it was supposed to be a modern rendition of
Peter Pan, but the thing was so god awful that it could have been
Macbeth and no one would have been the wiser. With a school so full of parents in the entertainment industry, Miranda wondered why it was consistently so impossible for Dalton to put together a decent stage performance. Cassidy, of course, had done quite well in her part as the Alligator, despite the horrendous costume she had been forced to wear.
Cassidy was already talking about enrolling in an acting class, and wanted to trade in her piano lessons for voice coaching since she now had it in her head to become an actress. She had said she wanted to be featured on Broadway and had chattered on about how she would follow in the footsteps of Jennifer Hudson, and would win an Oscar in her debut film performance. It was almost mind boggling for Miranda to see her daughter acting so differently from the way Miranda had when she was her daughters' age.
Now Caroline on the other hand, Miranda smiled, Caroline was definitely her daughter. She was practical, methodical, made decisions with her head more often than with her heart and was always ready to dominate if the situation didn't quite call for it. Miranda believed that was one of the reasons Caroline was better at playing the piano than Cassidy was. She had the better ability to focus and to dedicate herself to a project. Caroline's challenge would be in learning how to pull far enough away from her projects so that her focus and dedication didn't consume her. Miranda had never learned that lesson, but tried to do her best to teach it to Caroline. She wanted Caroline to find a life outside of personal drive and ambition, and she suspected that Cassidy would help with that. Cassidy forced Caroline to relax and in turn Caroline helped Cassidy to focus. Miranda had never had that balance in her life, but she suspected that a certain icon of balance was currently shoving its willful way into her purview and forcing her to examine certain aspects of her life she had given up on paying any attention to.
Miranda looked down at the picture of her girls she had placed on her desk and sighed. She needed to spend more time with them, and now that their father had fallen out of their good graces it would only be prudent for her take the opportunity to become closer to them both. She had already gotten a head start by bringing them home early. For that, they had been entirely grateful and Miranda could tell that they were genuinely happy to be back in her presence.
There was knock on the door, and Miranda took her eyes away from the photograph. "What is it?"
The door was slowly pushed open and Caroline's head peeked through the tiny opening. "Are you working?"
Miranda very deliberately closed the
Book and swung around in her chair to face her daughter. "Not anymore. Is there something you needed, darling?"
Caroline's blue eyes widened as they focused on the
Book her mother had pushed aside. "It's not important if you're working," she mumbled.
"Don't be ridiculous." Miranda stood up and walked over to her daughter. She awkwardly wrapped an arm around Caroline's back and guided the smaller body towards the antique Louis XV style settee that sat against the far wall in her study. Caroline fell onto the expensive piece of furniture, looking more unsure now than she had when she had first knocked on the door.
"Now," Miranda's arm fell off of her daughter's shoulder, "what is it you needed?"
Caroline looked at her suspiciously. "Mommy, are you okay?"
"Why would you ask something as silly as that?" Miranda brushed off the lint on her pants. "I'm perfectly fine, Caroline."
"Are you sure?"
Miranda consciously softened her voice. "Of course I am. So, tell me, why aren't you sleeping?"
Caroline curled her feet up under her and stared at the floor. "I don't know."
"Of course you do." Miranda wanted to reach out and brush away the strands of hair that had fallen across her child's face, but she clamped down on the desire. Caroline would brush the hair away if it bothered her. There was no need for her to coddle a child who had no need for it.
"I..." Caroline started picking at her toenails. "I had a bad dream."
"I see." Miranda couldn't remember the last time either of her daughters had sought her out after having a nightmare. "Did you want to talk about it?" She asked, a part of her shamefully hoping her daughter would refuse the offer.
Caroline shook her head. "Not really."
Relief flooded through her, but it could not and did not stop her from reaching out and placing her hand atop her daughter's. "If you told me about it, perhaps I could do something to help." As much as she may have wanted to, she knew she could not turn her back on the fact that her child had sought her out to soothe whatever fears the nightmare had caused.
Caroline slowly raised her gaze until she met her mother's eyes. "You left us."
Miranda's eyes widened. "I what?"
Caroline curled up next to Miranda, keeping her mother's grip inside of her own. "You left us, just like Stephen left and like Dad left. I yelled and you just kept walking." Caroline spread Miranda's fingers apart and fit her own fingers between them. "You wouldn't come back. You just...left."
Miranda wanted to ask Caroline why she would ever dream something so preposterously absurd, but refrained. She knew her daughters felt the loss of their father and father figures more deeply than they often expressed. Being around Rayne would understandably challenge their security with their father, but Caroline's nightmare hadn't been of her father abandoning her. Miranda didn't understand the dream at all. She would never leave her girls. She knew all too well what growing up with an inattentive mother was like, and she suspected the absence of her own mother was one of the reasons she was so ill equipped to handle something as simple as easing her child's fears.
"Caroline," Miranda brought their interlaced fingers to her mouth and placed a gentle kiss on Caroline's knuckles. "I will never abandon you or your sister."
"Everyone else does." Caroline's eyes fluttered and Miranda hoped that her daughter wasn't crying. She could never stand the sight of her daughters' tears.
"Caroline, your father has not abandoned you." Miranda never liked having to defend Alain to the children. She never thought it was her place to defend his actions, but she understood how important it was for the girls to hold their father in high regard. Despite how bitter their divorce had been, Miranda and Alain had both made an effort to protect the girls from the harsh realities of their failed relationship. Both of them had been used as collateral in their own parents' divorces and did not want to do the same with their children. "He loves you both dearly."
"If he loves us so much then why won't he listen to us and not marry Rayne?"
"Because Caroline," Miranda sighed. "Love is complicated." It was a pathetic explanation to give to a twelve year old, Miranda knew, but she didn't have much else she could say that would make Alain look less like an idiot. There was a reason why Caroline and Cassidy disliked Rayne and it wasn't because they didn't want a stepmother. They had dealt with previous stepparents and had grown used to the concept of having an adult around that they would actively ignore and periodically insult. The hatred for Rayne was unique because the girls understood Rayne's love for their father was disingenuous, and the girls simply did not want to see their father hurt.
"Did you love Stephen?"
It was a fair question, Miranda conceded, but that didn't mean she wanted to answer it; it had already been difficult enough to explain the divorce, Miranda had no idea how to go about explaining love. She wasn't sure how she could convey that there were many different types of love and that she and Stephen had tried to make a long-term love affair out of something that...well that shouldn't have evolved into a marriage.
"I don't think you loved him," Caroline interrupted Miranda's thoughts.
"Why do you think that?" Miranda whispered, somewhat surprised that she was having such an adult conversation with her daughter.
"Because you fight for the things you love."
"I do?"
Caroline nodded. "You fought for custody of Cassidy and me, and you fought with your stepmother when grandpa had the heart attack, and you fought with that doctor when Cassidy was sick, and you..."
"So, you're saying," Miranda interrupted Caroline, unsure of how many examples Caroline would draw on until she considered her point made, "that I didn't fight for Stephen?"
"He left when you were in Paris," Caroline needlessly informed her mother. "You didn't come back."
Well, that wasn't a fair argument since very little would have the power to pull Miranda away from Paris. Certainly, Stephen's long distance phone call announcing his intentions to file for divorce wasn't enough to make her leave the most important event of her entire year. Then again, Miranda found it hard to admit, even silently to herself, that if Stephen had announced his intentions to file for divorce while she was in the country, it wouldn't have been much of a motivator for her to stop what she was doing so that she could confront him. Any respect she had for him had been destroyed when he decided to end their relationship over the phone like an immature child.
"Caroline, darling, if I had come back I doubt there would have been anything I could have done to make Stephen stay."
"Because you didn't love him." It wasn't a question and the honesty Miranda heard in her daughter's voice sent a chill down her spine. She looked down at her daughter, who was so comfortably nestled onto her side, and she suddenly saw the adult her child was becoming.
"No." Miranda's free hand ran through her hair. "I didn't love him. Not anymore."
Caroline wrapped Miranda's arm around her body. "Rayne said you cheated on Dad."
Miranda never reacted to the unexpected by wildly raving or absurd gestures. When truly surprised, Miranda's body stilled and her breathing became deeper. Her body's temperature dropped and even standing in front of the sun wouldn't bring it back up. "And what did your father say?"
"He doesn't know Rayne told us. He wasn't there."
"This conversation shall never leave this room, understand?" Caroline tried to pull away, but Miranda held her in place. "I do not mind if you tell Cassidy, but if you tell anyone else I will be very disappointed."
"Mom?" Caroline's voice shook, now sounding more like the preteen that she was, who was seeking out the assurances of her mother.
Miranda knew this was her chance to step away from the conversation and offer to take Caroline back to bed. She could tell Caroline that she shouldn't concern herself with anything Rayne said, but she had said that before many times on many different occasions. She had urged both of her daughters to not worry themselves about things that went on in their lives. She tried to shield them from the life she had chosen and they had been born into, and it had worked for many years. So far, it had worked for almost twelve years now, but the girls were getting older and smarter, and could no longer be distracted by Harry Potter books, pet dogs, and shiny objects. Now, when they asked questions they wanted answers and wouldn't be placated with simple promises. They wanted to understand things, and perhaps they even wanted a chance to make them better.
"Caroline, what Rayne said was true."
This time when Caroline pulled away, Miranda didn't try to hold her in place. "What?"
Miranda sat up straighter and did her best to push aside the fact she was confessing something very personal to her daughter. "I make no excuses for my behavior; there simply are none."
"So you didn't love Dad either." Again, Caroline was not asking a question. She was stating the cold facts as she saw them. Miranda could hear her own voice within her child's and tried to feel proud instead of slightly intimidated and even partially ashamed.
"No, I loved your father more than anyone I had ever loved but..." She had never explained her decisions to her children, and found it odd that she was doing so now. So, Miranda blamed Andrea for opening up a floodgate of honesty she thought had been sealed off. "Your father and I disagreed on certain choices I had made pertaining to my professional life, and we could not find a way to compromise each of our desires."
"I never remember you and Daddy fighting."
"No," Miranda sighed. "I imagine you wouldn't. You and Cassidy were very young."
"Do you still love Daddy?" Caroline softly asked.
"Perhaps, in my way." Caroline didn't look like she understood what that meant, but she didn't ask Miranda to clarify which Miranda was very thankful for; she didn't know how to make what she said more understandable, especially since even after all these years she still did not understand all the way in which she still cared for her first husband.
Caroline let out a heavy sigh and finally let go of her mother's hand. Miranda had forgotten Caroline had even been holding onto her. She felt strangely cold now that Caroline's grip was gone. Miranda couldn't help but look at her hand as if she didn't completely recognize it. It had been a long time since she had been in such solid contact with either of her daughters for such an extended period of time. She was no more comfortable with being physically demonstrative with them than she was with anyone else, but she could admit that she now missed the basic human contact her daughter had freely offered.
"I still don't like Rayne," Caroline muttered as she brushed back her hair. "Daddy shouldn't marry her."
"Whether he marries Rayne or not is not up to you, your sister or even me; it is for your father to decide." Alain could decide what he wanted to do after Miranda spoke to him about what Rayne had been saying to her girls, hopefully he would make better decisions than he already had.
"I guess."
Miranda awkwardly reached out and laid her hand on Caroline's arm. "It's late, darling; you should go back to bed."
Caroline looked up at her mother, looking as unsure as she had when she first knocked on the door. "Will you sit with me until I fall asleep?"
Miranda stood up and then offered her hand to Caroline. "Of course."
They walked out of Miranda's study and Miranda nearly tripped over Cassidy as she walked towards the staircase. "Have you been listening this whole time?" Miranda asked her other daughter.
Cassidy nodded. "Yeah."
Miranda looked from one twin to the other, slowly coming to the realization that she had been set up. They both wanted answers but only dared to send one inside the lion's den. Miranda wondered what bet Caroline had lost that put her inside of the room instead of outside of it.
"Well, it is time for you to go to bed."
"Are-are you still going to sit with me until I fall asleep?" Caroline asked.
"With us!" Cassidy added.
"Don't be silly," Miranda grinned. "I said I would, didn't I?"
Both of her daughters smiled and hurried up the stairs with more enthusiasm than Miranda felt. She didn't quite know how she would force herself to sit down and watch her daughters fall asleep, but she would because she had told them that she would. She could only hope that it didn't take that long because she still had to finish with the
Book. She didn't have the entire night free to watch over her daughters.
****
In the far off distance Miranda could hear a faint sound that seemed to resemble knocking. Miranda's eyes fluttered open and she looked around. She was in Cassidy's room and it would seem that she had fallen asleep on the edge of her daughter's bed. Caroline and Cassidy were asleep and looked like they hadn't heard whatever sound it was that had woken Miranda up. Miranda brushed her fingers through her hair and then rolled up off of the bed. She didn't bother to look at the alarm clock resting on the nightstand, because she knew it was late and didn't need extra help to take note of that.
Miranda walked to her front door, unsurprised that Andrea was standing on the other side. A part of her had been expecting Andrea to make an appearance. "Tell me Andrea," Miranda said as she pulled open the door, "should I just put on my schedule that you will drop by at absurd times of the night now?"
Andrea brushed by Miranda without being invited inside. "I...um," Andrea rubbed at the back of her neck. "I had dinner with my parents and it was hard, and Aquarius left to go back to Cornell."
Miranda shut the door. "None of that explains why you are here."
"All of my friends hate me right now and I'm not too fond of them right now either," Andrea's words were rushed and Miranda's tired mind tried to focus on the point Andrea was dancing around.
"Do you honestly believe I would allow you to stay here?"
"Look Miranda, I'm sorry. I know it was stupid to come here and I know it's stupid for me to even be talking to you right now, but I haven't been very good at controlling my stupidity lately. I haven't felt this lost and pathetic since I was in middle school. And every single part of me knows I shouldn't bother you with any of this, but damn it Miranda you're the only person in this entire world that I know for a fact understands whatever the hell it is I'm going through and I don't have enough money to stay in a hotel and I can't stand looking at the walls of my empty apartment so I'm just going to keep being stupid and ask you if I can just stay here for one night."
The words had been thrown at Miranda so quickly that it took a moment for Miranda to sort them out. She tried to organize them in such a way that would make it so that Andrea had not come to her home looking for a place to stay.
"Who did you turn to?" Andrea softly asked, her voice strained. "Who did you go to, Miranda, when your world was crumbling?"
Miranda remembered the fight she and Alain had the night she had realized their marriage was well and truly over. His words had been brutal and so had hers. They tore each other apart, leaving no room for reconciliation. The nanny had been watching the girls and they had both fled their home. Alain had gone to that obscure wine bar he enjoyed so much and Miranda had...well she went into someone else's bed. Miranda found it quite funny that she could still remember every detail of her fight with Alain but could recall very few details about the moments she spent breaking her wedding vows.
One of Miranda's hands went to her hip and the other pinched the bridge of her nose. "Your stupidity must be contagious."
Andrea broke out into a smile and she stepped forward as if she was going to offer Miranda a hug, but Miranda stepped back. She had already succumb to contagious idiocy and absolutely refused to succumb to hugging. "Keep quiet and follow me." Miranda walked past Andrea and towards the staircase. She lead Andrea through her home to the only guest room she felt remotely comfortable leaving Andrea in; it was the furthest away from her girls. "Everything you'll need is already inside. Caroline and Cassidy are home so please act as if you are a sane person if you happen to come across either of them."
"I..."
"No, no," Miranda waved away Andrea's attempt at speaking. "Don't talk. I refuse to talk about any of this...ever." Andrea's mouth snapped shut. "Go to sleep. I am going to go back downstairs and finish my work." Miranda walked away and forced herself to not look back at Andrea who she knew was watching her depart. It would be much easier for her to continue on with her night if she just pretended like she was not allowing Andrea to stay in her home. It made things less complicated, and let the questions that needed to be asked left without answers.
Chapter 14
Isolated Privacy
Andy watched Miranda walk away from her knowing that she should be feeling something beyond the angry void that had been growing from within her belly. The night had been...it had been bad and her previous days hadn't been much better. So, when Andy was sitting at home alone and that ball of anger and pain kept growing and the only thing keeping her company were her silent walls, she decided to get up and get out before she was lost in the empty spaces between her every breath.
Aquarius had left her phone number programmed in Andy's cell phone just in case Andy needed someone to talk to or needed someone that would just listen, but Andy couldn't bring herself to dial the number. Aquarius, while present, was like a breath of fresh uncomplicated air, but from a distance Andy knew starting up a friendship with her best friend's gay cousin had tremendous potential to be a lot more complicated and a lot less worth the headache that would follow if Lily decided to get irrationally jealous or possessive.
So, Andy left her apartment and her body aimed itself in the direction of Miranda's house while her mind ran through the dinner she had shared with her parents. They had wanted her to move back in with them in Ohio since she had failed at making a life for herself in New York. She had no job. She had very little money. She had no relationship to speak of anymore. According to them, she had...nothing.
Andy was under thirty and had already failed at achieving her life's goals. They thought she needed a chance to heal her wounds and gather herself up for a career that she could hold onto. Of course, her parents had been a little more diplomatic with how they conveyed their worries. They had been nice enough to not call her a complete failure, but all their nice words boiled down to the same meaning, and Andy was left defenseless in their supportive onslaught.
She had opened her mouth to say something about selling an article to
Runway, but she didn't want to bring up Miranda. She didn't want to discuss the editor with anyone. Andy didn't want to share her stories about their lunch together or what it had felt like to sit across from Miranda while the editor read over her article. She didn't want to talk about any of it. The recent phone calls and meetings she had with Miranda were, Andy had realized, unique and somewhat isolated from her real everyday world.
If she shared the conversations she had with Miranda then that isolated privacy would be broken and Andy would have to share the Miranda she was getting to know with everyone else. Andy's parents knew Miranda only as the tyrannical boss-lady that gave their daughter absurd tasks and endless headaches. Miranda was, in a way, evil and if Andy wanted to change their perception then she'd have to tell them how Miranda had listened to her when she had fought with Nate, and how Miranda had offered her advice when she was writing her article, and she'd have to say that Miranda was...three dimensional and was like everyone expected her to be while at the same time being exactly the opposite of those same expectations.
Andy didn't want her parents to know about that Miranda yet. She didn't want to share Miranda with anyone. So she was left defenseless in the face of her parents' worry. She had to silently concede to them that her life hadn't gone as she had hoped, and she had to promise to consider throwing in the towel and going back to Ohio while she got her life together so that she could perhaps one day come back to New York to live out a version of her dreams.
When Andy found herself standing outside of Miranda's town home, she laughed. It was sort of becoming an inevitable fact that she would end up outside of Miranda's home seeking out the one person she knew had answers to all of her questions. It was just as inevitable that Miranda would answer the door beautifully irritated, but would let her in anyway. Miranda hadn't closed the door on her yet, and Andy hoped that Miranda never would. She never had a plan B in the off chance that Miranda wouldn't answer her phone or open her door. Andy only ever had the single minded plan to seek Miranda out and then to just see what happened next.
She hadn't planned on asking Miranda for room and board. She hadn't planned on making any pleas about Miranda being the one person in all the world that understood her. Andy never thought that far ahead. Andy especially hadn't meant to ask Miranda who she turned to when her life was falling down around her, but as Andy watched Miranda walk away, she couldn't quite bring herself to regret asking Miranda something so personal.
That one idiotic question had been the secret password to Miranda's hospitality. It had held enough power to sway Miranda's cool rigidity, and Andy knew that now was the time for her to start consciously keeping track of all the things that would subtly break through Miranda's stiff facade. Learning about the woman beneath the Devil's makeup was the only way Andy could get assurance that Miranda would keep on opening her door, answering her phone, and accepting spontaneous lunch invitations.
Andy turned away from Miranda's retreating form before she got caught staring and opened the door to the room she had been led to. Andy's hand fumbled along the wall looking for the light switch and when she found it and the light was turned on, Andy tried to call up that part of her that should be in awe of the grandiose setup she was given, but she just couldn't pull up the emotion. It was a room with a bed. Well, it was a big room with a huge bed and enough expensive furnishings that probably surpassed the value of all of Andy's possessions, but still...it was a room with a bed...in Miranda's home.
Andy closed the door behind her and walked directly to the bed. She kicked off her shoes and then fell onto the cushioned surface. Her body was tired. Her mind was tired, but she finally felt a little less angry and the void that had been building eased slightly.
Part of Andy thought that she should be incredibly freaked out that she was in Miranda's home lounging around like Goldilocks, but she had told that part of herself to shut up. Miranda was offering her sanctuary and Andy just needed to be thankful without questioning either of their motives. So, Andy closed her eyes, forcibly shut down her overactive mind, and then quickly fell into an exhausted sleep.
****
Andy woke up feeling completely out of place. It was like she was in Paris again, waking up to the unwelcome presence of a drunken one night affair. Her head hurt and she couldn't quite remember why she was wrapped up in foreign bed coverings that smelled nothing like Nate and only a little bit like her.
She sat up and pulled away the comforter and the sheets, glad to find that her body was still fully clothed. She sniffed the air one more time, realizing that the scent that surrounded her was familiar. It was Miranda. She was in Miranda's house and she hadn't broken in; Miranda had let her in and had let her stay.
Andy looked over at the covers she had pushed off of her body, then up at the ceiling. She couldn't remember turning off the lights or pulling the covers over her body. She had been too lazy to do either. Yet, the lights had been turned off and her body had been covered.
"This is too complicated to think about," Andy told herself as she swung her legs off of the bed. She walked to the bathroom and then looked through the drawers to find what she needed to clean up. Once done, she left the room and walked downstairs with every intention of leaving before she saw any member of the Priestly household, including Patricia, but was caught by a voice asking her, "What are you doing here?"
Andy slowly turned around and looked at the young girl who was patiently waiting for an answer. "I uh..." She didn't have an answer, not one that she could explain to any normal functioning being anyway. "Your mother let me stay."
"Why?"
"Um..." That was a good question. "Because I asked?"
"You're the girl that got us the
Harry Potter book, right?"
Girl? Andy was a little thrown by the descriptor coming from a twelve year old. "Andy." She weakly smiled. "My name's Andrea but everyone calls me Andy."
"I've heard Mom call you Andrea."
"Well," Andy gave an awkward laugh, "your Mom isn't like everyone else."
The younger Priestly's head tilted slightly. "If you say so, I guess. So, what are you doing here? You don't work for Mom anymore."
"Your Mom is uh..." Andy cleared her throat. "She's helping me with...an article. I'm a journalist now."
"Mom is
helping you?"
Andy wondered if the concept had sounded as absurd coming from her as it had coming from Miranda's child. "Yes."
"Cassidy, who are you talking to?" Miranda's other daughter called as she walked into the hallway.
"Mom's Andrea," Cassidy answered with a devious smirk on her face, making obvious her intention to follow in her mother's footsteps by calling Andy by the name not everyone else used.
Caroline looked over at Andy, recognition eventually showing in her blue eyes. "You're the one that got us that
Harry Potter book."
Right then and there, Andy decided she liked Caroline more than Cassidy. "Yes, I am."
"She's a journalist now," Cassidy informed her sister. "Mom's
helping her with an article."
Caroline shrugged at the news. "Okay." She turned to Andy. "Are you hungry? Mom said breakfast is ready."
Miranda cooked? Andy had always assumed that Miranda didn't know how. Just like she assumed that Miranda didn't know how to retrieve her own coffee or say 'thank you'. "I'm sure your mother didn't want me to stay for breakfast."
"No she did," Caroline replied. "She asked me to go upstairs and get you, but now I don't have to."
Caroline turned around and started walking away. Cassidy followed looking almost disappointed that her sister hadn't been as surprised by Andy's presence as she had been. Andy thought of just walking away, but she didn't want to be rude. Miranda had let her stay and had supposedly cooked food.
She followed Cassidy and Caroline through the house, being exposed to parts of Miranda's home she had never dared venture into before. They eventually reached the kitchen, where Miranda was doing something as bizarrely normal as pouring a glass of orange juice.
Miranda looked up and met Andy's open-eyed gaze. She didn't look away as she lifted up the glass of juice she had just poured and offered it over. Andy's hand reached out for the glass and her throat managed to garble out something that sounded similar to a thank you.
"Sit down," Miranda ordered.
Andy found the nearest chair and sat. She held her cup of juice firm in her hand as she watched Caroline and Cassidy take their seats at the breakfast table, as if their mother cooking for them was at least an every other day occurrence. They began eating and Andy couldn't help but stare at the odd acts of normality that were being displayed. She looked from Caroline to Cassidy to Miranda and then back around again waiting for one of them to announce that some sort of practical joke was being played out at her expense.
"I can assure you that I have not poisoned your food," Miranda said as she casually brought a forkful of egg whites to her mouth.
"Yeah," Cassidy smiled, "Mom hasn't poisoned anyone in a long time." Caroline laughed and Miranda rolled her eyes but said nothing to defend herself.
Andy forced herself to laugh and finally put down her cup of orange juice so that she could pick up her fork. "Th-thank you," she softly said, "for this and la-last night."
"What happened last night?" Cassidy asked.
"Nothing," Miranda quickly answered. "Now tell me what you two plan to do with yourselves now that you are no longer with your father."
"I don't know." Caroline pushed her food around on her plate. "I don't feel like doing anything."
"Well, I want to go out with Kaitlyn." Cassidy removed the turkey bacon from her plate and placed it onto her sister's. "She and I want to rehearse for the summer play."
"Oh," Miranda looked over at the pieces of meat her daughter had removed. "You want to audition? I thought we had decided you didn't have time for that."
Cassidy sighed. "Of course I can do it, Mom. We're back early so I have time now."
"When your father returns he might want you to join him for the rest of the summer."
Both girls stopped eating. "No." Caroline shook her head.
"What do you mean, no?" Miranda's voice lowered.
Andy looked down at her plate and shoved her fork into her mouth. She already felt like she was intruding and she couldn't help but wonder why Miranda hadn't already kicked her out. Miranda was an intensely private person and Andy was sure this was an invasion of that privacy.
"We want to stay with you," Cassidy hurriedly replied.
"I will speak with your father." Miranda wasn't agreeing to anything, even Andy understood that.
They continued eating, with silence winning over any other conversation that might have taken place. Cassidy didn't even seem interested in embarrassing Andy anymore and Caroline paid close attention to her food. Miranda finished eating and then excused herself from the table. She told the girls to clean up and that she would be leaving for work soon.
Andy watched Miranda walk out and then quickly followed. She found Miranda in her study looking out the window down at the yard below. "Where is your next article?" She asked not looking away from the image she had focused on outside.
"What?" Andy looked around her, just in case Miranda had been talking to someone else.
"You have written another article, haven't you?" The fingers of Miranda right hand trailed up her own leg to rest on her hip.
"No I...I," Andy stammered. "I haven't."
"Your personal difficulties give you no excuse for your laziness." Miranda told Andy's reflection.
"My...wh-what?" Andy looked back at the door she had just walked through. Had she unknowingly walked into a different reality like she had when she entered the kitchen?
Miranda slowly turned away from the window. "Should I assume you are not serious about your future?"
"My wh..." Andy shut her mouth before she committed the sin of repeating herself. Miranda was being absurd and unreasonable. "I think I should go home."
Miranda's lips pursed. "If you must."
Andy felt like Miranda had just slapped her across the face. "Can we just skip this...thing we're doing right now?" She asked giving into her defeat. "Will you just tell me what you want me to do?"
"I want so many," Miranda's fingers fluttered aimlessly, "things, Andrea."
That wasn't an answer, and Andy knew Miranda understood that. "I was th-thinking," Andy stepped further into Miranda's study, "of writing something about the mythology surrounding the idea of an apathetic youth."
Miranda ran her fingers across her lips. "Write it. I want to see it tomorrow."
Andy shook her head and smiled. Of course Miranda wanted her to write it by tomorrow. "Yes, Miranda."
"I don't understand why you must make everything so difficult, Andrea." Miranda moved away from the window.
The statement sounded so ridiculous coming from Miranda, but Andy suspected Miranda already understood that. It was probably part of the reason Miranda had said it in the first place. "Okay, I get it." Andy ran her fingers through her hair. "I shouldn't let what's going on in my personal life distract me from writing."
"I have no idea what you're blabbering on about." Miranda moved to her desk. "I must go to work. I assume you can find your way home." She picked up the
Book off of her desk. "And that you will stay there tonight."
"Of course." Andy would force herself to stay in her silent apartment. She had already used up the bounds of Miranda's hospitality, and wasn't in the mood to push her luck any more than she already had. "It'll be a late night writing for me." She smiled. "So, if you need a door to knock on in the middle of the night, I'll be there to answer it."
Miranda's body stiffened. "Andrea, you obviously haven't gotten enough rest."
Andy dropped her head into her hands. "You know, I think you might be right." It had to be a sign of exhaustion if she was implying that Miranda would come to her apartment in the middle of the night.
"Email me your rough draft this evening." Miranda walked past Andy and out the door, clearly done with the conversation.
Once again, Andy was stuck with watching Miranda walk away unsure of what had just happened in the last few minutes of her life. She shook her head and then walked out of the study and then out of Miranda's home. Caroline and Cassidy had disappeared somewhere, and Andy was thankful that she didn't have to face them again. She made her way back to her apartment and intentionally ignored an incoming call from her father. She started to piece together parts of her article in her mind, glad to have something to focus on other than her personal life, and other than the fact that Miranda had allowed her to share their breakfast and might have, unthinkably, turned off the light and covered Andy's body with the blankets while she had been sleeping.
Continued