The Gift of Possibilities ~ Third
Yes. I did it. It's all about the troublesome Jellyroll here.
Disclaimer: The Devil Wears Prada is neither mine nor CeeLyn's. No infringement intended, no money being made. The building belongs to Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox. We're just redecorating. When finished, we will tear down the new curtains and fancy artwork, but leave the festive paint…
Rating: T
Fandom: The Devil Wears Prada
Pairing: Mirandy
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Third ~ Ruari’s
Miranda gently pulled the down-filled duvet higher, making sure to cover Cassidy and Caroline completely, tucking it around their necks. She sat on the side of her own bed and gazed tenderly down at her precious little terrors.
It was Christmas Eve. And since Andrea couldn’t be with them, her girls hadn’t wanted their mother to be alone. So they’d asked if they could sleep with her.
Miranda sighed and stood up. She was lonely and missed Andrea terribly, so she’d said ‘yes’ and now had a pair of gangly thirteen-year-olds taking up most of the space in her king-size bed. She entered her bathroom with a smile on her face and began removing her make-up.
Andrea
Miranda Priestly was most decidedly in love with the girl. She couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment it’d happened, but the truth was undeniable. All personal (and a few professional) decisions were now made with her children and Andrea in mind. She couldn’t look at an oak tree, the rain, Central Park, the moon, or mistletoe without her mind immediately latching on to the memory of a breathless brunette leaning in and kissing her for the very first time. She tingled now just thinking about it.
She quickly finished her ablutions and wandered back out to the bedroom. With another quiet, sad sigh, Miranda crawled into her bed, chuckling softly when Caroline shifted toward her in her sleep. She lay staring at the darkness, her eyes slow to adjust. She glanced over to her nightstand just to make sure she’d put her Blackberry there and that it was on.
Just in case the hospital called.
*** *** ***
The following morning found Miranda pouring orange juice into three glasses while she waited for her girls. As though they sensed their mother’s disquiet, the twins didn’t stampede down the stairs as thunderously as usual. But they were still teenagers, so Miranda had plenty of warning as to their arrival in the kitchen.
“Good morning, my darlings.” She held out a juice to each redhead.
Cassidy grabbed hers and leaned up to kiss her mother on the cheek. “Morning, Mom.” She feigned disinterest as she wandered over to the table.
Miranda’s eyes widened at the rare gesture. Not to say they were not affectionate, but it was still unusual for one of her children to plant an unsolicited kiss on her. She was deeply touched.
Not to be outdone, Caroline approached and wrapped one arm around her mother’s waist, squeezing out a quick hug before taking her juice out of her hand. “Morning, Mom. Did you sleep?”
The girls were very aware of how little their mom had slept in the last ten days. In fact, the last full night’s sleep their mother had gotten was the night before the accident. They didn’t know exactly how much or how little, but they knew she was always up when they were. The exhaustion was not evident to most, but she was their mom. They knew her. Caroline and Cassidy knew that as much comfort, love, and support they gave her, it was only Andy’s recovery that would truly help. And that was okay with them. They needed Andy, too.
Miranda’s smile was a little watery as she gazed over at her children. Oh, how she cherished them. “A little, sweetheart. Thank you for asking.” She carried over two prepared plates, having just finished making the omelets minutes ago.
“When are we going to see Andy?” Cassidy asked. She reached for the jam and began spreading it on her English muffin then started spreading it on Caroline’s, as well.
“Thanks,” whispered Caroline.
Miranda’s brows rose in amusement at their behavior. Twins were so fascinating. “When you’ve finished your breakfast, we can go. But no rushing! Ladies do not inhale their food no matter what Andrea says,” she teased, cutting them off before they could start shoveling their omelets in to speed things along.
Early last night, the three of them had, together, decided to hold all of the “Christmas Day Activities” until Andrea was able to come home and be a part of them. They were a family and would celebrate like one. Her girls were maturing at an alarming rate, but they absolutely adored their Andy.
She sipped her own juice while watching them. She listened to their quiet conversation with half an ear but was not so distracted that she didn’t hear the doorbell. “Finish your breakfast,” she called as she rose to answer it.
“What are you doing here? You get a day off and show up at my townhouse. Emily, you are seriously overworked.” Miranda’s lips twitched as she almost smiled at her assistant.
Emily smiled. “Happy Christmas, Miranda,” she greeted in her cool, British tones. “I have presents.” She held up two packages.
Miranda’s eyes widened for the third time that morning. Was it ‘Shock Miranda Day’ and no one told her? “Just two? Emily, I’m hurt,” she jested with a hand clutched dramatically to her chest.
“Ha Ha,” retorted the younger woman as she followed her employer into the townhouse. Her relationship with her boss had changed slightly over the last year. With Andy Sachs as a part of Miranda’s life, Emily had become less frightened of the woman. She’d somehow become friendlier with Andy and the two of them tried to make Miranda’s life easier. Emily now did her absolute best for Miranda Priestly because she respected what she did every day to produce the world’s foremost fashion magazine while, at the same time, maintaining a successful private life. Did Miranda still frighten her occasionally? Oh, absolutely. Did she feel threatened anymore? No. Her work ethic and abilities had improved, and she was being given more responsibility. That said, she actually liked working for her boss now. “These are for the girls. Your present is that I am going to watch them for a couple hours while you head off to the hospital for some private time with Andy. I’ll bring them over later. How’s that?”
Miranda’s features softened. It was a lovely gesture from her assistant. An assistant who deserved a well-earned vacation after all the work she’d done over the last ten days, rearranging her schedule God knows how many times. And now she was over at her house on one of her very few days off. “That is very thoughtful of you, Emily, and I’ll take you up on that offer.” She turned to lead them to the kitchen where she explained what was happening. The girls were agreeable, and Miranda hurriedly called for Roy’s replacement. Her driver was enjoying his well-earned day off as he, too, had been highly overworked the last ten days.
Minutes later, she was kissing the girls goodbye in the foyer. She looked Emily in the eye as she wrapped her scarf about her neck. “I won’t forget this, Emily.”
She approved of the simple nod of acknowledgment from her assistant. With that, she was out the door.
*** *** ***
Miranda very quietly let herself in to Andrea’s room. She was asleep, so Miranda went about removing her outerwear as quietly as possible. She settled into the room’s couch to wait for her beloved Andrea to awaken. As it often did during these occasions, her mind drifted back to that horrible day she’d received a call from New York Methodist Hospital in Brooklyn.
“Miranda, you need to take this call,” Emily insisted, her voice firm and unyielding but clouded with worry. She held the cordless phone out to the editor.
Miranda glared over the top of her glasses. “You do see I’m in a meeting with twelve other people, do you not?”
“Yes, but I don’t care. Take it,” her voice trembled. She had no idea where her courage came from at that moment, but she was glad of it. “There’s been an accident, Miranda.”
Miranda stared blankly at her assistant for a moment. Accident? She reached for the phone. “Yes, who’s this?”
“Is this Miranda Priestly?”
“Yes, yes. Now who is this?” Miranda practically growled, unnerved by the look on her assistant’s face.
“This is New York Methodist Hospital in Brooklyn. Ms. Priestly, an Andrea Sachs was brought in, and according to her photographer, you are her emergency contact.”
Miranda gasped as the words sunk in. Without a thought to those in the room, she stood and hurried back to her office, Emily trailing behind her.
“Is she-“
“She’s alive, Ms. Priestly, but her condition is serious.”
“What happe-“
“All we know is that there was an explosion at a chemical plant.”
“Very well. I’m on my way.” Miranda hung up and tossed the phone on Emily’s desk as she passed it. “Emily, get Roy here immediately. Have Nigel finish that meeting. In fact, have Nigel handle everything today, including the Book. He answers all questions, makes all decisions, at least for the rest of the day.” She grabbed her Blackberry and absently noted the missed call, correctly assuming it was the hospital. She walked back out of her office. “Call Dalton and inform them that I do not want the twins to have access to television, internet, or any other form of news. Have them picked up at their usual time and delivered home. Inform Cara of what has happened and of the same restrictions to news outlets. I will inform the children when I know more. I do not want the New York media to handle that, do you understand?” Miranda took a deep breath. “God, they adore Andrea.”
Emily’s eyes were wide as she scribbled down the instructions. “Is she-“
“They said she’s alive, but it’s serious. An explosion.” Miranda shook her head. “I have to go.” She grabbed her coat and bag from the lesser Emily and hurried out.
Thirty minutes later, she arrived at New York Methodist and swept into the ER like she owned it. She approached reception. “Miranda Priestly for Andrea Sachs,” she quietly informed the harried woman. Miranda shot a look of horror and disgust at her surroundings while she waited for the woman to figure out where her Andrea was.
Her Andrea…
“She’s still down here. Let me get the doctor for you,” the nurse informed her after verifying Miranda’s right to know. Miranda gave a curt nod and stepped back.
A young man approached from the waiting area. “Ms. Priestly?”
Miranda turned to find a filthy young man with two backpacks wringing an equally filthy baseball cap in his scuffed and bleeding hands. The knees of his jeans were ripped, and she could see bloodstains on the material. “Yes?”
The young man cleared his throat. “I’m Chase. Andy’s photog? Chase Atteborough.” He started to stick his hand out but stopped when he saw how nasty it was and how pristine she was.
Miranda, for the first time ever, disregarded the filth, the dirt, the scruff, and focused on his name. She reached out and shook his hand before he could pull it back all the way. “Chase, yes. Andrea has mentioned you many times. She loves working with you.”
Chase nodded and looked away. He swallowed hard. “I’m sorry about Andy, Ms. Priestly. She’s hurt real bad.”
Miranda’s knees weakened at this news and she grabbed at the counter for support. Chase reached a hand out to steady her, not fearing she’d mind since she’d already shaken his hand.
“Call me Miranda, Chase. Can you tell me what happened?”
“There was a fire at Atlas Chemical, so the paper sent us to check it out. Miranda, we were behind the press line, honest. But there was a huge explosion down at the end where we were. Andy was in front. It knocked her back about twenty feet. Then there were paramedics and firefighters and people screaming. I’m sorry, I got here as fast as I could, but it took me a while to find out what hospital they sent her to. She’s been here for almost five hours, Miranda. I’m so sorry. I told them to call you as soon as I got here.”
“Yes, thank you for that, Chase. And I don’t blame you for anything. It was an accident?”
Chase nodded. “That’s what they think. Just the fire spreading to the wrong area or something. To be honest, I’ve kind of lost track of the story since it blew up on us.” He swiped at his brow and rubbed his temple. “No pun intended.”
Miranda smiled weakly. “Are you hurt? I see blood, and you’re massaging your head.”
“I’m fine. Really.”
“Nonsense. You are hurt. And you’re a friend of Andrea’s. I’ll make someone look at you.” She made a move toward the reception nurse, but Chase held up a hand.
“No, really. I appreciate that, but there are a lot more seriously injured people here.”
Miranda narrowed her gaze. Before she could assert her intentions, an exhausted-appearing physician approached.
“Someone here for Andrea Sachs?”
“Yes.” Miranda turned toward him. She motioned for Chase to follow with a jerk of her head. And he caved to the Priestly pressure like everyone always does.
Miranda shook her head to remove the vicious memories from her forethoughts. She had no desire to ever again remember her first glimpse of Andrea just after the explosion. Chemical burns, damaged retinas, torn flesh. She shuddered. She barely remembered the twelve hours following her first look at her beloved. She knew she’d chartered a helicopter to fly Andrea back to Manhattan, here to Columbia Medical Center, New York Presbyterian. She knew she’d demanded the best care possible, and she’d gotten it.
She remembered going home long enough to tell the twins and make arrangements for them. Then she was right back here where she remained camped for the following two days. After that, Andrea’s prognosis improved dramatically. Miranda refused to think of how Andrea was during those two days, however. It’s kept her awake every night since. Though sure she expressed it poorly, she was incredibly grateful for all of the assistance provided to her over the last ten days by Emily, Nigel, Roy, and Cara. Those four employees had been rocks. All of them. She would need to figure out a way to reward them for their service. It was truly above and beyond. And yes, a good deal of it was because they were all so fond of Andrea, but she still wanted to show appreciation somehow. Andrea could help her with that, surely.
A stirring across the room was to Miranda…the greatest of Christmas gifts. She crossed the room in a flash. “There’s my beauty. Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”
Andy shifted her head on the pillow and put her hand out, patting the bedside in search of something. Miranda lay her hand down and allowed the younger woman to find her and grab hold.
“I missed you,” murmured the sleepy brunette. “How wonderful it is to wake because I smelled your perfume. I could wake like that every day. Love you. Merry Christmas.”
Miranda leaned down and pressed her lips firmly to Andrea’s, ignoring any morning breath issues. It took only seconds for the kiss to deepen as the two women reaffirmed their relationship. Miranda broke it before they got too involved. “I’m sure we can make that happen,” she replied sweetly. “And I am indeed a lucky woman, as I am quite in love with you, as well.”
Andy reached up with her free hand, wanting to touch Miranda’s face. An unspoken symbiosis had developed between the two women over the last week. Miranda seemed to always know what Andrea needed with regards to her inability to see. She was scheduled to have her bandages removed tomorrow, but today…today she was still blind. But that was alright with Miranda. She hadn’t fallen in love with Andrea’s ability to see her. She knew her lover worried about whether or not she would be able to see once the bandages came off even though her physician assured her that the outlook was very, very good. Miranda, however, had confidence. This all flitted through her head as she leaned down and allowed her lover to cup her face.
Andy smiled and brushed a thumb across Miranda’s lips. “You didn’t have to come today, you know. It’s Christmas. You should be home with the girls. Opening presents, making a mess.”
Miranda leaned down until her nose nuzzled into the shell of Andy’s ear. Her lips barely grazed the skin as she stated her case in a soft whisper. “I am very thoroughly besotted, and I blame you completely. I have been extremely fortunate to have spent the last two Christmases with you, my darling Andrea, but I spent forty-nine Christmases without you. And I don’t plan to ever do that again. Now, what can I do for my love on this Christmas Day?”
Andy’s eyes burned underneath the bandages as her tears escaped. She brought their clasped hands to her lips and held them there. Moments passed in the quiet union of two souls. “I just want to see you,” Andy finally choked out. She felt Miranda squeeze her hand tighter and shift away.
Miranda pressed her lips to Andrea’s cheek before disengaging their hands and standing upright. “Let me see what I can do to make that happen, alright?”
Andy gave a small jerk of acceptance, already missing the warmth of the older woman’s touch. Miranda had grounded her like nothing else throughout this entire experience, from the moment she’d first touched her in the ER after the accident. Being unable to see her, Andy felt adrift without Miranda’s touch.
Miranda leaned in, pressed a quick kiss to those beloved, full lips, and then rushed out of the room. It didn’t take long to locate Andrea’s doctor, a neural ophthalmologist of some renown. Though she was surprised he was even working today, his dedication was just part of what made him so sought after. Miranda trusted him to take proper care of Andrea and would not ever forget the time and effort he’d put forth to save her eyesight. Finding him was easy. Convincing him to check Andrea’s eyes a day early, however, did take a few minutes longer. Miranda agreed to all of his stipulations and knew Andrea would, as well; especially given that doing so would allow her to see.
Andy smelled Miranda as she reentered the room. “Hey.” She could easily intoxicate herself on Miranda’s perfume.
Miranda moved to the bed and picked up Andrea’s hand. “I brought your doctor. He’s willing to check your eyes today rather than waiting until tomorrow.”
Doctor Frantom cleared his throat. “There are a few stipulations, Andy. For the first few days, you need to wear an eye mask. I’m removing your bandages, but your eyes are still going to be extremely sensitive to light and quick movement. Under no circumstances are you to be out in the sun, in a brightly lit room, or in front of strobe lights.”
“Damn, Miranda. We’ll have to take ours down,” Andy drawled. She was absolutely delighted. She was going to be able to see Miranda! For the first time in ten days.
Miranda tightly squeezed the hand she held. “Cheeky girl.”
Frantom chuckled and moved to switch on the lamp, at its dimmest setting, in the corner of the private room. He then turned out the main overhead lights. “Ok, Andy. Keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them, alright?”
Andy nodded, eager to proceed. Her fingers clenched around Miranda’s in anticipation as she felt the doctor’s on her face. The bandages came off slowly and several minutes passed as Frantom checked the stitches at the corner of her left eye and the surrounding tissue.
Miranda watched intently, wincing at the raw features of her beloved’s face. Was Andrea scarred? No. She would have a tiny one at the corner of her eye but hardly noticeable. And easily fixed if Andrea so chose. It didn’t detract from her beauty at all in Miranda’s eyes. No, her wince was due to the painful-looking redness of Andrea’s eyelids and surrounding parts of her face. The burns would heal, but Miranda knew they were very painful. Andy’s eyes were sunken and bruised; the flesh red and raw.
Miranda thought she was gorgeous.
“Ok, Andy, you can open your eyes, but do it slowly. Give those singed retinas a chance to adjust,” Frantom cautioned as he backed away.
Andy turned toward Miranda and again squeezed her hand, this time in anticipation. She felt Miranda place her free hand over top of their joined ones in a demonstration of support. Andy slowly opened her eyes.
And there stood the blurriest, most beautiful sight she’d ever seen. She blinked a few times in the dim light, pain lancing into her head just as the doctor had predicted.
Miranda nervously gazed back. Tears pricked her own eyes as she was, once again, able to gaze into those large, deep brown pools. “Andrea?” she prompted after an extended silence.
Andy quirked her lips and dryly muttered, “As a journalist, I’m trying really hard to come up with the right words without turning into a cliché.”
Miranda beamed. “Go for it, darling. Be a cliché!”
With that kind of enthusiastic permission, Andy grinned. “Boy, are you a sight for sore eyes!”
*** *** ***
Two hours later, Andy’s eyes were again covered; this time in a soft, black satin eye mask. Andy didn’t care. She’d gotten what she wanted for Christmas. She could deal with the mask for the next several days. Besides, she had a feeling her significant other would make sure she adhered to every directive given by Dr. Frantom. Emily had brought the twins and the mask (as requested by Miranda as the three were on their way over), they’d had a wonderful visit, and she was now exhausted. Combine that with the pain medication she’d just ingested and Miranda’s loving attention, and she was hard-pressed to stay awake.
Miranda was propped up beside Andrea in the bed, supporting the younger woman against her shoulder. She slowly ran a hand through Andy’s thick tresses, soothing the woman as best she could. “Are you comfortable?” she murmured.
Andy nodded tiredly. “I got what I wanted for Christmas, which was to see you and the girls. I’m just sad I didn’t get to give you your Christmas present. I mean, I know I’ll never top what I got you the first Christmas, but I still have something.”
Miranda cupped her hand to Andrea’s face. “Oh, my darling, you did! You already gave me a most extraordinary gift. One that is even more priceless than the first.”
“I did?” Andy frowned. “I’m coming up blank here. What was it?”
Miranda’s eyes watered and her throat closed tight with emotion. She pressed her face into Andrea’s hair and choked, “You lived, sweetheart. You lived.”
The silence was profound as the two women clutched at one another. Many minutes passed before Andy jerked back.
“Great. How am I ever going to top that one?”
~R
The Fourth Christmas
Disclaimer: The Devil Wears Prada is neither mine nor CeeLyn's. No infringement intended, no money being made. The building belongs to Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox. We're just redecorating. When finished, we will tear down the new curtains and fancy artwork, but leave the festive paint…
Rating: T
Fandom: The Devil Wears Prada
Pairing: Mirandy
.............................
Third ~ Ruari’s
Miranda gently pulled the down-filled duvet higher, making sure to cover Cassidy and Caroline completely, tucking it around their necks. She sat on the side of her own bed and gazed tenderly down at her precious little terrors.
It was Christmas Eve. And since Andrea couldn’t be with them, her girls hadn’t wanted their mother to be alone. So they’d asked if they could sleep with her.
Miranda sighed and stood up. She was lonely and missed Andrea terribly, so she’d said ‘yes’ and now had a pair of gangly thirteen-year-olds taking up most of the space in her king-size bed. She entered her bathroom with a smile on her face and began removing her make-up.
Andrea
Miranda Priestly was most decidedly in love with the girl. She couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment it’d happened, but the truth was undeniable. All personal (and a few professional) decisions were now made with her children and Andrea in mind. She couldn’t look at an oak tree, the rain, Central Park, the moon, or mistletoe without her mind immediately latching on to the memory of a breathless brunette leaning in and kissing her for the very first time. She tingled now just thinking about it.
She quickly finished her ablutions and wandered back out to the bedroom. With another quiet, sad sigh, Miranda crawled into her bed, chuckling softly when Caroline shifted toward her in her sleep. She lay staring at the darkness, her eyes slow to adjust. She glanced over to her nightstand just to make sure she’d put her Blackberry there and that it was on.
Just in case the hospital called.
*** *** ***
The following morning found Miranda pouring orange juice into three glasses while she waited for her girls. As though they sensed their mother’s disquiet, the twins didn’t stampede down the stairs as thunderously as usual. But they were still teenagers, so Miranda had plenty of warning as to their arrival in the kitchen.
“Good morning, my darlings.” She held out a juice to each redhead.
Cassidy grabbed hers and leaned up to kiss her mother on the cheek. “Morning, Mom.” She feigned disinterest as she wandered over to the table.
Miranda’s eyes widened at the rare gesture. Not to say they were not affectionate, but it was still unusual for one of her children to plant an unsolicited kiss on her. She was deeply touched.
Not to be outdone, Caroline approached and wrapped one arm around her mother’s waist, squeezing out a quick hug before taking her juice out of her hand. “Morning, Mom. Did you sleep?”
The girls were very aware of how little their mom had slept in the last ten days. In fact, the last full night’s sleep their mother had gotten was the night before the accident. They didn’t know exactly how much or how little, but they knew she was always up when they were. The exhaustion was not evident to most, but she was their mom. They knew her. Caroline and Cassidy knew that as much comfort, love, and support they gave her, it was only Andy’s recovery that would truly help. And that was okay with them. They needed Andy, too.
Miranda’s smile was a little watery as she gazed over at her children. Oh, how she cherished them. “A little, sweetheart. Thank you for asking.” She carried over two prepared plates, having just finished making the omelets minutes ago.
“When are we going to see Andy?” Cassidy asked. She reached for the jam and began spreading it on her English muffin then started spreading it on Caroline’s, as well.
“Thanks,” whispered Caroline.
Miranda’s brows rose in amusement at their behavior. Twins were so fascinating. “When you’ve finished your breakfast, we can go. But no rushing! Ladies do not inhale their food no matter what Andrea says,” she teased, cutting them off before they could start shoveling their omelets in to speed things along.
Early last night, the three of them had, together, decided to hold all of the “Christmas Day Activities” until Andrea was able to come home and be a part of them. They were a family and would celebrate like one. Her girls were maturing at an alarming rate, but they absolutely adored their Andy.
She sipped her own juice while watching them. She listened to their quiet conversation with half an ear but was not so distracted that she didn’t hear the doorbell. “Finish your breakfast,” she called as she rose to answer it.
“What are you doing here? You get a day off and show up at my townhouse. Emily, you are seriously overworked.” Miranda’s lips twitched as she almost smiled at her assistant.
Emily smiled. “Happy Christmas, Miranda,” she greeted in her cool, British tones. “I have presents.” She held up two packages.
Miranda’s eyes widened for the third time that morning. Was it ‘Shock Miranda Day’ and no one told her? “Just two? Emily, I’m hurt,” she jested with a hand clutched dramatically to her chest.
“Ha Ha,” retorted the younger woman as she followed her employer into the townhouse. Her relationship with her boss had changed slightly over the last year. With Andy Sachs as a part of Miranda’s life, Emily had become less frightened of the woman. She’d somehow become friendlier with Andy and the two of them tried to make Miranda’s life easier. Emily now did her absolute best for Miranda Priestly because she respected what she did every day to produce the world’s foremost fashion magazine while, at the same time, maintaining a successful private life. Did Miranda still frighten her occasionally? Oh, absolutely. Did she feel threatened anymore? No. Her work ethic and abilities had improved, and she was being given more responsibility. That said, she actually liked working for her boss now. “These are for the girls. Your present is that I am going to watch them for a couple hours while you head off to the hospital for some private time with Andy. I’ll bring them over later. How’s that?”
Miranda’s features softened. It was a lovely gesture from her assistant. An assistant who deserved a well-earned vacation after all the work she’d done over the last ten days, rearranging her schedule God knows how many times. And now she was over at her house on one of her very few days off. “That is very thoughtful of you, Emily, and I’ll take you up on that offer.” She turned to lead them to the kitchen where she explained what was happening. The girls were agreeable, and Miranda hurriedly called for Roy’s replacement. Her driver was enjoying his well-earned day off as he, too, had been highly overworked the last ten days.
Minutes later, she was kissing the girls goodbye in the foyer. She looked Emily in the eye as she wrapped her scarf about her neck. “I won’t forget this, Emily.”
She approved of the simple nod of acknowledgment from her assistant. With that, she was out the door.
*** *** ***
Miranda very quietly let herself in to Andrea’s room. She was asleep, so Miranda went about removing her outerwear as quietly as possible. She settled into the room’s couch to wait for her beloved Andrea to awaken. As it often did during these occasions, her mind drifted back to that horrible day she’d received a call from New York Methodist Hospital in Brooklyn.
“Miranda, you need to take this call,” Emily insisted, her voice firm and unyielding but clouded with worry. She held the cordless phone out to the editor.
Miranda glared over the top of her glasses. “You do see I’m in a meeting with twelve other people, do you not?”
“Yes, but I don’t care. Take it,” her voice trembled. She had no idea where her courage came from at that moment, but she was glad of it. “There’s been an accident, Miranda.”
Miranda stared blankly at her assistant for a moment. Accident? She reached for the phone. “Yes, who’s this?”
“Is this Miranda Priestly?”
“Yes, yes. Now who is this?” Miranda practically growled, unnerved by the look on her assistant’s face.
“This is New York Methodist Hospital in Brooklyn. Ms. Priestly, an Andrea Sachs was brought in, and according to her photographer, you are her emergency contact.”
Miranda gasped as the words sunk in. Without a thought to those in the room, she stood and hurried back to her office, Emily trailing behind her.
“Is she-“
“She’s alive, Ms. Priestly, but her condition is serious.”
“What happe-“
“All we know is that there was an explosion at a chemical plant.”
“Very well. I’m on my way.” Miranda hung up and tossed the phone on Emily’s desk as she passed it. “Emily, get Roy here immediately. Have Nigel finish that meeting. In fact, have Nigel handle everything today, including the Book. He answers all questions, makes all decisions, at least for the rest of the day.” She grabbed her Blackberry and absently noted the missed call, correctly assuming it was the hospital. She walked back out of her office. “Call Dalton and inform them that I do not want the twins to have access to television, internet, or any other form of news. Have them picked up at their usual time and delivered home. Inform Cara of what has happened and of the same restrictions to news outlets. I will inform the children when I know more. I do not want the New York media to handle that, do you understand?” Miranda took a deep breath. “God, they adore Andrea.”
Emily’s eyes were wide as she scribbled down the instructions. “Is she-“
“They said she’s alive, but it’s serious. An explosion.” Miranda shook her head. “I have to go.” She grabbed her coat and bag from the lesser Emily and hurried out.
Thirty minutes later, she arrived at New York Methodist and swept into the ER like she owned it. She approached reception. “Miranda Priestly for Andrea Sachs,” she quietly informed the harried woman. Miranda shot a look of horror and disgust at her surroundings while she waited for the woman to figure out where her Andrea was.
Her Andrea…
“She’s still down here. Let me get the doctor for you,” the nurse informed her after verifying Miranda’s right to know. Miranda gave a curt nod and stepped back.
A young man approached from the waiting area. “Ms. Priestly?”
Miranda turned to find a filthy young man with two backpacks wringing an equally filthy baseball cap in his scuffed and bleeding hands. The knees of his jeans were ripped, and she could see bloodstains on the material. “Yes?”
The young man cleared his throat. “I’m Chase. Andy’s photog? Chase Atteborough.” He started to stick his hand out but stopped when he saw how nasty it was and how pristine she was.
Miranda, for the first time ever, disregarded the filth, the dirt, the scruff, and focused on his name. She reached out and shook his hand before he could pull it back all the way. “Chase, yes. Andrea has mentioned you many times. She loves working with you.”
Chase nodded and looked away. He swallowed hard. “I’m sorry about Andy, Ms. Priestly. She’s hurt real bad.”
Miranda’s knees weakened at this news and she grabbed at the counter for support. Chase reached a hand out to steady her, not fearing she’d mind since she’d already shaken his hand.
“Call me Miranda, Chase. Can you tell me what happened?”
“There was a fire at Atlas Chemical, so the paper sent us to check it out. Miranda, we were behind the press line, honest. But there was a huge explosion down at the end where we were. Andy was in front. It knocked her back about twenty feet. Then there were paramedics and firefighters and people screaming. I’m sorry, I got here as fast as I could, but it took me a while to find out what hospital they sent her to. She’s been here for almost five hours, Miranda. I’m so sorry. I told them to call you as soon as I got here.”
“Yes, thank you for that, Chase. And I don’t blame you for anything. It was an accident?”
Chase nodded. “That’s what they think. Just the fire spreading to the wrong area or something. To be honest, I’ve kind of lost track of the story since it blew up on us.” He swiped at his brow and rubbed his temple. “No pun intended.”
Miranda smiled weakly. “Are you hurt? I see blood, and you’re massaging your head.”
“I’m fine. Really.”
“Nonsense. You are hurt. And you’re a friend of Andrea’s. I’ll make someone look at you.” She made a move toward the reception nurse, but Chase held up a hand.
“No, really. I appreciate that, but there are a lot more seriously injured people here.”
Miranda narrowed her gaze. Before she could assert her intentions, an exhausted-appearing physician approached.
“Someone here for Andrea Sachs?”
“Yes.” Miranda turned toward him. She motioned for Chase to follow with a jerk of her head. And he caved to the Priestly pressure like everyone always does.
Miranda shook her head to remove the vicious memories from her forethoughts. She had no desire to ever again remember her first glimpse of Andrea just after the explosion. Chemical burns, damaged retinas, torn flesh. She shuddered. She barely remembered the twelve hours following her first look at her beloved. She knew she’d chartered a helicopter to fly Andrea back to Manhattan, here to Columbia Medical Center, New York Presbyterian. She knew she’d demanded the best care possible, and she’d gotten it.
She remembered going home long enough to tell the twins and make arrangements for them. Then she was right back here where she remained camped for the following two days. After that, Andrea’s prognosis improved dramatically. Miranda refused to think of how Andrea was during those two days, however. It’s kept her awake every night since. Though sure she expressed it poorly, she was incredibly grateful for all of the assistance provided to her over the last ten days by Emily, Nigel, Roy, and Cara. Those four employees had been rocks. All of them. She would need to figure out a way to reward them for their service. It was truly above and beyond. And yes, a good deal of it was because they were all so fond of Andrea, but she still wanted to show appreciation somehow. Andrea could help her with that, surely.
A stirring across the room was to Miranda…the greatest of Christmas gifts. She crossed the room in a flash. “There’s my beauty. Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”
Andy shifted her head on the pillow and put her hand out, patting the bedside in search of something. Miranda lay her hand down and allowed the younger woman to find her and grab hold.
“I missed you,” murmured the sleepy brunette. “How wonderful it is to wake because I smelled your perfume. I could wake like that every day. Love you. Merry Christmas.”
Miranda leaned down and pressed her lips firmly to Andrea’s, ignoring any morning breath issues. It took only seconds for the kiss to deepen as the two women reaffirmed their relationship. Miranda broke it before they got too involved. “I’m sure we can make that happen,” she replied sweetly. “And I am indeed a lucky woman, as I am quite in love with you, as well.”
Andy reached up with her free hand, wanting to touch Miranda’s face. An unspoken symbiosis had developed between the two women over the last week. Miranda seemed to always know what Andrea needed with regards to her inability to see. She was scheduled to have her bandages removed tomorrow, but today…today she was still blind. But that was alright with Miranda. She hadn’t fallen in love with Andrea’s ability to see her. She knew her lover worried about whether or not she would be able to see once the bandages came off even though her physician assured her that the outlook was very, very good. Miranda, however, had confidence. This all flitted through her head as she leaned down and allowed her lover to cup her face.
Andy smiled and brushed a thumb across Miranda’s lips. “You didn’t have to come today, you know. It’s Christmas. You should be home with the girls. Opening presents, making a mess.”
Miranda leaned down until her nose nuzzled into the shell of Andy’s ear. Her lips barely grazed the skin as she stated her case in a soft whisper. “I am very thoroughly besotted, and I blame you completely. I have been extremely fortunate to have spent the last two Christmases with you, my darling Andrea, but I spent forty-nine Christmases without you. And I don’t plan to ever do that again. Now, what can I do for my love on this Christmas Day?”
Andy’s eyes burned underneath the bandages as her tears escaped. She brought their clasped hands to her lips and held them there. Moments passed in the quiet union of two souls. “I just want to see you,” Andy finally choked out. She felt Miranda squeeze her hand tighter and shift away.
Miranda pressed her lips to Andrea’s cheek before disengaging their hands and standing upright. “Let me see what I can do to make that happen, alright?”
Andy gave a small jerk of acceptance, already missing the warmth of the older woman’s touch. Miranda had grounded her like nothing else throughout this entire experience, from the moment she’d first touched her in the ER after the accident. Being unable to see her, Andy felt adrift without Miranda’s touch.
Miranda leaned in, pressed a quick kiss to those beloved, full lips, and then rushed out of the room. It didn’t take long to locate Andrea’s doctor, a neural ophthalmologist of some renown. Though she was surprised he was even working today, his dedication was just part of what made him so sought after. Miranda trusted him to take proper care of Andrea and would not ever forget the time and effort he’d put forth to save her eyesight. Finding him was easy. Convincing him to check Andrea’s eyes a day early, however, did take a few minutes longer. Miranda agreed to all of his stipulations and knew Andrea would, as well; especially given that doing so would allow her to see.
Andy smelled Miranda as she reentered the room. “Hey.” She could easily intoxicate herself on Miranda’s perfume.
Miranda moved to the bed and picked up Andrea’s hand. “I brought your doctor. He’s willing to check your eyes today rather than waiting until tomorrow.”
Doctor Frantom cleared his throat. “There are a few stipulations, Andy. For the first few days, you need to wear an eye mask. I’m removing your bandages, but your eyes are still going to be extremely sensitive to light and quick movement. Under no circumstances are you to be out in the sun, in a brightly lit room, or in front of strobe lights.”
“Damn, Miranda. We’ll have to take ours down,” Andy drawled. She was absolutely delighted. She was going to be able to see Miranda! For the first time in ten days.
Miranda tightly squeezed the hand she held. “Cheeky girl.”
Frantom chuckled and moved to switch on the lamp, at its dimmest setting, in the corner of the private room. He then turned out the main overhead lights. “Ok, Andy. Keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them, alright?”
Andy nodded, eager to proceed. Her fingers clenched around Miranda’s in anticipation as she felt the doctor’s on her face. The bandages came off slowly and several minutes passed as Frantom checked the stitches at the corner of her left eye and the surrounding tissue.
Miranda watched intently, wincing at the raw features of her beloved’s face. Was Andrea scarred? No. She would have a tiny one at the corner of her eye but hardly noticeable. And easily fixed if Andrea so chose. It didn’t detract from her beauty at all in Miranda’s eyes. No, her wince was due to the painful-looking redness of Andrea’s eyelids and surrounding parts of her face. The burns would heal, but Miranda knew they were very painful. Andy’s eyes were sunken and bruised; the flesh red and raw.
Miranda thought she was gorgeous.
“Ok, Andy, you can open your eyes, but do it slowly. Give those singed retinas a chance to adjust,” Frantom cautioned as he backed away.
Andy turned toward Miranda and again squeezed her hand, this time in anticipation. She felt Miranda place her free hand over top of their joined ones in a demonstration of support. Andy slowly opened her eyes.
And there stood the blurriest, most beautiful sight she’d ever seen. She blinked a few times in the dim light, pain lancing into her head just as the doctor had predicted.
Miranda nervously gazed back. Tears pricked her own eyes as she was, once again, able to gaze into those large, deep brown pools. “Andrea?” she prompted after an extended silence.
Andy quirked her lips and dryly muttered, “As a journalist, I’m trying really hard to come up with the right words without turning into a cliché.”
Miranda beamed. “Go for it, darling. Be a cliché!”
With that kind of enthusiastic permission, Andy grinned. “Boy, are you a sight for sore eyes!”
*** *** ***
Two hours later, Andy’s eyes were again covered; this time in a soft, black satin eye mask. Andy didn’t care. She’d gotten what she wanted for Christmas. She could deal with the mask for the next several days. Besides, she had a feeling her significant other would make sure she adhered to every directive given by Dr. Frantom. Emily had brought the twins and the mask (as requested by Miranda as the three were on their way over), they’d had a wonderful visit, and she was now exhausted. Combine that with the pain medication she’d just ingested and Miranda’s loving attention, and she was hard-pressed to stay awake.
Miranda was propped up beside Andrea in the bed, supporting the younger woman against her shoulder. She slowly ran a hand through Andy’s thick tresses, soothing the woman as best she could. “Are you comfortable?” she murmured.
Andy nodded tiredly. “I got what I wanted for Christmas, which was to see you and the girls. I’m just sad I didn’t get to give you your Christmas present. I mean, I know I’ll never top what I got you the first Christmas, but I still have something.”
Miranda cupped her hand to Andrea’s face. “Oh, my darling, you did! You already gave me a most extraordinary gift. One that is even more priceless than the first.”
“I did?” Andy frowned. “I’m coming up blank here. What was it?”
Miranda’s eyes watered and her throat closed tight with emotion. She pressed her face into Andrea’s hair and choked, “You lived, sweetheart. You lived.”
The silence was profound as the two women clutched at one another. Many minutes passed before Andy jerked back.
“Great. How am I ever going to top that one?”
~R
The Fourth Christmas