Chapter Text
Staring out over the vista of white, Miranda took a deep breath. The mountain air was freezing, but it only served to invigorate her.
She needed this break, and a few days were better than nothing. With Andrea waiting at the bottom of the slope, fielding calls and coordinating with the office about the upcoming shoots, Miranda felt calm and relaxed. Everything was well in hand. In fact, Andrea was the only reason she felt able to take this last minute vacation. God knew she rarely left the city this time of year, but with the girls away at her mother's for a long weekend, everything simply came together. Andrea cleared her schedule, and a few days later they were out of the city.
Four days of skiing were exactly what she needed. Andrea had planned everything perfectly, right down to the cabin she'd rented. Miranda had the spacious ground floor all to herself, and she imagined the upstairs loft was roomy enough for Andrea, who seemed thrilled with it. The kitchen was well-stocked, the master bedroom had its own fireplace, and the attached bathroom had an enormous tub. The main living area was even, dare she say it, homey. Miranda had stayed in rentals near the lodge before, but never had she enjoyed such ideal accommodations.
She only slightly associated Andrea's nearness with her current state of repose. It seemed beside the point; Andrea was always by her side these days, both at home and the office. Her working hours had expanded over the last six months, beyond that of all her past assistants. She never complained, asking only for the occasional sample Miranda discarded, or a night off now and then when her parents came to town.
Those nights off were rare, thankfully, since Miranda experienced an odd sense of loneliness without Andrea. She preferred her silent company, though she would never admit it to anyone. Somehow she sensed that Andrea knew, and felt the same. It was a comfort, Miranda had decided, to need and be needed in equal measure, however unusual it might be for her.
Miranda lowered her ski goggles, and kicked off into the powder.
The moguls came at her fast, and she steered through them briskly, passing two slowpokes who should not have been on the double diamond trail. The trees at the border were a blur, and Miranda took a jump at full speed. Her heart lifted, and she let out a whoosh of air and a laugh when she landed successfully. The second round of moguls loomed, and she zoomed over them with grace, bypassing two other jumps in favor of the larger one some distance down the path.
She saw it, narrowed her focus, and within seconds she was airborne, breath held. For a moment, all her cares were forgotten, and she was a girl again. The feeling remained when she landed, and followed her all the way down the slope.
Near the bottom, she turned toward the lodge, avoiding other skiers with agility. Her heart was light, and she suppressed a smile when she spotted Andrea on the snowy deck. The ridiculous toque she wore made her stand out in the crowd of wealthy sophisticates, but there was something rather charming about it.
She did not consider that the charm came not from the hat, but from the one who wore it.
Andrea looked up at that moment. Miranda pulled her scarf down, not minding that her lips quirked into a grin of their own volition when Andrea immediately rushed down the stairs of the deck. She trotted carefully through the snow, the fuzzy boots attracting Miranda’s attention. “Are they keeping you warm?” she asked.
Andrea grinned. “They’re like a little fireplace for my feet. Thank you again. I really love them.”
“Good,” Miranda said. “Now, Nigel—“
“--Just got back from the vineyard, and he said everything went ‘swimmingly.’ That was his exact word. I just downloaded 200 jpegs from the server for whenever you want to look them over. Maybe after dinner?” The look on Andrea’s face was hopeful. She'd been trying very hard to convince Miranda to limit her work during her vacation. So far, she’d been successful. Who was Miranda to break the trend?
“Fine, fine,” she said with a wave of her hand. She covered her cold nose with a glove, breathing into it for warmth. “What did you think?”
“He’s right. They’re terrific. Lucy and Marianne were perfect choices, and they had fantastic weather. They shot all the way through sunset. You’re going to love it.”
“Good. After the thunderstorm in the park last week, I could use some good news.”
“Don’t worry, Miranda. This spread’s going to rock.”
Miranda snorted. “We’ll see,” she said, but she trusted Andrea. Implicitly. About nearly everything. In fact, she couldn’t imagine that Andrea could keep a single secret from her, even if she tried. That open, lovely face spoke volumes with every expression, and Miranda had come to enjoy interpreting her thoughts before she said them aloud. She’d gotten quite good at it.
It was a surprise how rewarding it could be.
“You hungry? Or thirsty?” Andrea thrust a bottle of water in her direction.
Miranda took it, and drank. “Thank you,” she replied after draining half of it. “A few more runs and I’ll come in. The powder is too good to pass up. Are you certain you won’t at least try?”
Andrea laughed. “No way. My memory of a broken wrist is enough to keep me off the mountain for a while longer. But you look great out there.” Miranda peered at her curiously. “Oh please, you know you do. I saw you take that last hill at a sprint. How fast do you think you were going?”
“No idea,” Miranda said, glowing from the appraisal. “I feel a little rusty.”
“Don’t even. Anyway, you have fun. Once was enough for me, even if it was ten years ago.”
Miranda scoffed. “You had a poor teacher. I could instruct you on the basics in less than an hour.”
“It’s okay, I’ve never had great luck with snow. I’m going to go back up and bask in the warmth of the heat lamps and read my book. And of course make some phone calls now and then.” There was a tease in her tone, one Miranda liked the sound of. It held a familiarity that warmed her.
“Hmm,” Miranda said. “All right. Go on, then.”
“’Kay. Bye. And be careful!” Andrea turned to leave with a wave.
But less than three seconds later, Andrea lay sprawled in the snow a few yards away, under the body of a young man and his snowboard.
Miranda blinked, staring. “Andrea,” she whispered. A miserable moan came out from under the pile. “Andrea,” Miranda said again, her brain finally catching up.
She was going to kill that boy with her bare hands. He rolled off of Andrea into the snow, looked down at her prone form, and tried to get up with the board still attached to his feet. Was he going to try to run away? Bastard. Instantly Miranda unlocked her boots from her skis and rushed to Andrea’s side. With her ski pole, she pushed the boy back down into the snow and said, “You’re not going anywhere.”
Falling to her knees, Miranda leaned down. “How badly are you hurt?” The wind had been knocked out of Andrea, that much was certain. “Can you hear me?”
Andrea coughed, and tried to inhale, unsuccessfully. “Oh,” she wheezed. “Um, ow.” Brown eyes turned in Miranda’s direction, and from their unfocused look, Miranda thought she might have a concussion. “I think I’m okay. Let me ju—“ she choked, and gasped, and turned green. She started to pant. “Motherfucker!” she hissed in surprise.
Miranda’s eyes widened. She’d never heard that epithet leave Andrea’s mouth before. She looked down at Andrea’s leg, her stomach churning in sympathy. “Medic!” Miranda shouted. “I need a medic!” She poked the boy with her ski pole a second time and growled, “Don’t move.”
The boy quailed, and Miranda stood and ran toward the lodge, awkward in her heavy boots. Fortunately, someone had heeded her call; a young man with a medical trunk was already halfway down the stairs. “Over here,” she said, frantic.
“Oh boy,” the man said when he looked down at Andrea, and pulled a walkie from his belt. “I need a snowmobile, stat. Got a break in front of the lodge.”
The walkie made a noise. “Copy that,” said a disembodied voice.
By the time Miranda knelt once again in the snow, Andrea was shivering. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. “Oh,” she said pitifully. Miranda wanted to stroke her hair, comfort her.
When the medic began speaking in soft tones, telling Andrea everything was going to be all right, Miranda believed him. That is, until Andrea turned her head, threw up, and passed out.
---
Two hours later Andrea was ready to leave the tiny medical clinic, and Miranda was exhausted.
It had been frightening, not to mention somewhat disgusting, to realize the indignities one experienced when breaking a limb. They had destroyed Andrea’s new boots, cutting one off her to keep from injuring her further. Her pants were sheared away as well, replaced by some sort of flannels that kept her warm but were far from fashionable. Andrea had thrown up a second time once they’d arrived in the clinic, but lucky for them both she’d done so on the floor rather than in Miranda’s lap.
There had been no blood, since the fracture was closed, but it was terrible during the setting of the bone. She’d trembled at Andrea’s bedside, gripping her hand tightly. Despite the pain killers they’d given her, along with a local anesthetic, she’d still whimpered wretchedly.
The sound of it tore Miranda’s heart to shreds.
Soon after, they’d wrapped Andrea’s leg in a cast (with a remarkably garish purple covering) and left her to rest. The doctor cornered Miranda in the hallway, delivering rapid-fire instructions.
“The leg needs to be elevated,” Dr. Halprin said. “As much as possible.”
Miranda nodded.
“Don’t get the cast wet. Wrap it in plastic when she needs to bathe, and if it gets damp, use a hairdryer to dry it.”
Check.
“I’m giving you crutches, but for the first few days, let her rest it as much as possible, okay? She’ll be able to get a walking cast in a while. It’s not as bad as it could have been--the fibula is intact, and she doesn’t need pins. That’s a huge relief, because otherwise we’d have had to send her down the mountain to the hospital, and between the weekend traffic and the storm that’s coming—“
“Storm?” Miranda said.
“Yeah. A big one. I hope you weren’t planning on going anywhere. We’re known for great powder, but if we get what the weatherman predicts, you’re probably going to be indoors for a while.”
Miranda had not anticipated that. They were scheduled to head back to New York the following day, a Monday. Of course Andrea’s injury would probably have prevented that, though they could have done it in a pinch. But how much longer would it be now?
“Are you certain?”
“Never, but plan for it anyway. I’m going to give you a codeine prescription to have on hand, and the pharmacist will give you the details. That’s about it. Rest, elevation, drugs. Any questions?”
Miranda had never regretted Andrea’s absence at her side more than she did at that moment. She surely would have known all the right things to say, the most important details to inquire about. “Ah, I’m… not certain. I’ve never dealt with anything like this.”
The doctor looked at her with understanding. “It won’t be too bad. She’s a strong girl. Here’s my card. If she develops a fever in the next day or two, call me. I don’t foresee any complications, but take it just in case.”
“Complications?” Miranda asked weakly.
“Infection, that kind of thing. Listen, just keep her comfortable and you’ll both be fine. Scout’s honor,” he said with a grin, holding up two fingers.
Miranda thought she might like to crush those two fingers in her hand. This man didn’t seem to care that one of the most important people in Miranda’s life was injured, and in pain, and could develop complications. Or worse.
When she returned to the tiny room, Andrea looked up at Miranda with something like adoration in her eyes. “Hi, M’randa. How’re you?”
Miranda sat on the small stool next to the bed. “Just fine. Are you in any pain?”
A lazy smile stretched across Andrea’s face. “No way. I feel great. Super, in fact. Never better.”
So the drugs had kicked in. A shame it had taken so long. “Good. I’m taking you back to the cabin now. And we’re… staying. They’re expecting a snow storm.”
Andrea’s bright eyes grew wide. “Really? That sounds great! I love the snow. I love the cabin, too. This has been so much fun. Being with you up here, I mean. You’re so nice when we’re away from work.” She chuckled to herself, and Miranda wondered exactly how much the drugs were affecting her. “Not that you’re not nice at work and all, but this is way better. And you look really pretty in the snow. Like you belong here instead of the city.”
Miranda’s eyebrows lifted. She felt a blush creeping up her neck. “Well, thank you. We should—“
“It’s your hair. It’s so white, and with your black suit, and your goggles, you’re straight out of a de Lempicka painting. Didn’t anybody ever tell you how pretty you look in the snow?”
Frozen by Andrea’s blatant display of affection, Miranda didn’t know what to say. “No.”
Andrea shook her head. “People are stupid then. They’re totally stupid. They don’t know you at all. But I know you. Sometimes I feel like I know you better than I know myself.”
Something dangerous was brewing in Miranda’s belly; it made her feel uncomfortably warm, and entirely exposed. “Yes, yes, Andrea, hush. Let me have a word with the doctor and we’ll go home.”
Quickly Miranda made her escape. She stood in the narrow hallway and leaned against the wall.
Something told her the next few days were going to be very, very long.