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Miranda and Wendy (P3...)

by  jim60

Posted: Thursday, August 27, 2009
Word Count: 1964
Summary: I went into new territory here and I really didn't know what I was doing, probably serves me right, but anyway, I had a go at it and here it is..
Related Works: Miranda and Wendy • 



Content Warning
This piece and/or subsequent comments may contain strong language.


Miranda and Henry, something not right…

Friday afternoon and Miranda waiting. Not too clear on what she was waiting for, but if she waits any longer, the opportunity to speak to him and get this business dealt with, will slip through her fingers and it would only be dragging its ass along the ground and just getting in the way.
Juliet Morgan doesn’t look up and Miranda ignores her. Straight passed her and into Henry’s without slowing down or a knock. His door is firmly closed and Miranda takes a seat in front of his desk. He looks up at her from a file and a little smile that Miranda only just responds to,
“So, come on. What is it?”
“That letter,” Miranda pauses, thinking if this is right and Wendy meant what she said, ”can you hold it back?”
“Second thoughts?”
“Yeah, you could say that.”
“Why Miranda. Doesn’t sound like you?”
“I need more time. I don’t want to rush this.”
“Were you rushing for the job? Or rushing to get away from me?”
Miranda smiles at him, “I don’t know. It’s just that everything seems as though it’s going mad.”
“Including you?”
“Yeah and me.”
Henry nods, taking his glasses off and rubbing his nose, “Okay, I’ll hold it. The board won’t meet until late September, so that gives you five weeks, is that enough?”
“Yeah thanks.” Miranda sounds relieved.
Henry now sits back, looking quite comfortable, Miranda isn’t, but she’s made no moves to leave,
“There isn’t trouble at home is there?”
“No. Me and Wendy are fine, really.”
“So what is it then?”
Okay, this is where we don’t really want to be, but isn’t this part of that ’dad and daughter’ thing? Miranda thinking and almost regretting her words before she’s said them, “It’s about a car.”
Henry smiles and lets a little laugh escape. He seems to have forgotten momentarily what car Miranda is talking about.
His laugh stops and his stare gets her instead, “Clarissa?”
Miranda nods.
“I thought she was dead?”
“No, she’s at Albie’s. I’m collecting her tomorrow.” Miranda shifts on her seat, Henry hasn’t quite finished with this yet,
“I can’t believe you’re that fucking stupid.”
Miranda smiles, “You and Wendy said almost the same thing.”
“Well, if she was with you then, that wouldn’t happened. She’s not happy about this, is she?”
“No, she’s not.”
“Good for her. That car is nothing but trouble, I’m surprised you still have it.”
“How many more times?” Miranda sighs and sounds annoyed, “it wasn’t her, it was me!”
“You want to stop that. It’s a car, not a her or a she, it’s a car.” Henry told her and if she was waiting for a blunt response, there it is.
“It’s not that different with you and that boat.”
“It is different Miranda. That boat isn’t likely to try and fucking kill me!”
Miranda closes her eyes, taking a moment, “How many times do I have to say it? It wasn’t her, it was me!”
Henry sits back and bites down on his tongue.
Miranda sits quietly, rubbing her hands together.
What he said next could get him seriously injured but he said his words anyway,
“Is that car a substitute for something else?”
“What? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“You. Is there something you want but can’t have?”
Henry should be very careful here, this could turn out painful. Miranda seems to stutter, as if he’d hit something and he shouldn’t have gone there.
“Are you talking about me having kids?”
“Yes, I think that’s it.”
“I can’t. You know that and I could always get a cat or a dog.” Miranda lowers her head, the second half of her comment is almost a throw away, but it doesn’t strike either of them as funny.
Henry didn’t laugh and Miranda didn’t either. He had touched something but she’s trying to force that away with humour, which sadly went nowhere. She looks upset and looks at the window, trying not to look at him and think about what he said.
Miranda just starts crying. Her tears that so suddenly appear and Henry sits looking so shocked that he’s caused this. The legacy that is Clarissa. This is what it’s done, brought her here and she sits and cries and he’s never seen that before. This should’ve been the role Kathryn had taken on when Miranda really needed her, but she didn’t, she’d walked away from her and Jackie had tried and now, it’s up to him. There isn’t a wait, no pause, he’s off his chair so fast, kneeling in front of her and putting his arms around her and not saying anything, just holding her and he feels her arms slowly move around him, the idea of this happening seemed so far off and Henry tries to stop himself shaking, but can’t and as Miranda cries, so does he.

Henry’s phone starts beeping. He stays with Miranda, it still beeps and then, in a fit of temper, he gets up and grabs his phone and throws it against the window.
Miranda seems to have settled, this moment where he didn’t want that fucking phone to ring, to have that distraction and take him away from her. Henry steps back to Miranda again, thinking that she’d get up and leave but she didn’t. She sits there and waits.
Taking to his knees again and taking Miranda in his arms, this is where he wants to be, with his daughter and everything else can just wait. The way he holds her is so gentle, scared that he might hurt her or that she would break and that makes him smile and it doesn’t matter, what does is that they’re here.
If he can turn this around. To somehow make this better and if she’s hurting, then now is the time to let it go, it doesn’t have to be like this.
He should have done more. Thinking that why is it never enough?
Miranda places her hands on his chest, lifting her head away from him, a look from her that’s so girl like, taking an image from when she was nine or ten and she is what he sees, Miranda looks hurt and what he said had maybe gone too far and he meant no harm in what he said, perhaps just to get her to respond to him, forced it may have been and for that he’s sorry, but this thirty six year old woman that he’s holding is his daughter, but as her tears roll down her cheeks it’s a little girl he can see and all she wants is her dad.
Henry’s knees start to complain, he has to get up and the message from his brain is intercepted by Miranda, “Dad,” She whispers,” you should get up.”
He slowly moves back, Miranda takes his hand, helping him up.
“Old knees kind of got the better of me.” He laughs, but his knees aren’t laughing and he struggles to move for a few minutes. Miranda holds his hand as he walks, his knees slowly forgive him and then he stops, ”You don’t have to go, do you?”
“No, I’m pretty clear.”
Henry nods, moving towards his door, “Just a minute…”
Going out to Juliet and smiling at her, she smiles back and waits.
“I want you to hold all my calls. I don’t give a fuck who it is. When I’m with my daughter I don’t want to be interrupted by anyone, is that understood?”
“Yes Mr. Jefferson.”
“Good. Then do your fucking Job!” Henry snorts and walks back to his office and Miranda, who’d heard every word he’d said.
Henry takes her hand again, “There’s a big couch in my private room,” His soft voice and smile, “we’ll be a lot more comfortable on that.”
The private apartment that Henry had built next to his office is quiet and softly lit. Somewhere he can either entertain or just be by himself. The couch is long, a soft light coloured material, it might seat five or six, cushions are arranged haphazardly along it and Henry made his way to a tall wall unit and opens the doors, “Would you like a drink?”
Miranda had sat on the couch at one end, arranging the cushions, “Yeah, whisky please.” Then making herself comfortable.
Two chunky looking glasses and a couple of lumps of ice and from a heavy looking decanter, two rather nice looking measures, “Single malt, my dear girl. Now…”
He hands one off to Miranda and then he sat alongside her, taking a drink of the whisky and settling back. He pulls at his tie and opens the top button of his shirt. Miranda takes a drink and puts her glass down. She wipes her eyes and looks at him and then cuddles up to him again, resting her head against his chest.
His free hand strokes her hair, just slow strokes and Miranda settles with him.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay dad. I was just as shocked as you.”
“Oh, you saw that?”
Miranda gently laughs, “Yeah, not something you could hide.”
“No,” Henry raises his glass to his lips, “I don’t suppose it is.”
“I feel like I could go to sleep.”
“Go right ahead. There’s plenty of room.”
Miranda sits up and reaches for her glass. Taking a small sip and then passing it to her dad. She went to stand up, “I’d better get back.”
Henry looks up at her, “Why?”
“When the cat’s away…”
Henry touches her arm, “Fuck ‘em. I don’t give a shit about them. I’d rather you stayed.”
“Careful,” Miranda warns him, “Wendy is in that group.”
“Well, with the exception of Wendy. Please, just sit here awhile.”
Miranda sits back again. He passes her the glass but now she doesn’t want it. She places it on the carpet.
“Is this where I get a lecture from you about cars?”
Henry shakes his head, “No. I’m not saying a god damned word about that. Tomorrow though, Wendy is coming isn’t she?”
“Yeah, but I wanted to take Clarissa for a run and Wendy won’t get in her.”
“I think she’s scared of it.”
“Yeah, I’m not surprised, but it was a long time ago, before I knew her.”
“That doesn’t matter. She knows what it did to you, that’s enough to make her scared. It might not be you, but Clarissa is a whole different ball game.”
Miranda slowly nods. Her car, issues of a four wheeled variety.
Henry’s glass is empty and he looks thoughtful, a glance at Miranda and a smile, “You do love her, don’t you?”
“I think you know damned well I do.”
“Then leave Clarissa where she is for now. Just do that and the two of you with me and Madeline at Long Beach tomorrow.”
“Madeline?” Miranda looks at Henry and a little smile.
“Yeah, I like being with her. I’m comfortable with her.” His soft voice and that smile of his spread across his face and Miranda couldn’t help but notice.
“Good. Then I’ll do as you ask, okay?”
“You don’t mind Madeline being there?”
Miranda shrugs, “No. As long as she doesn’t mind me and Wendy.”
“To be honest, she likes you. She thinks you’ve got a lot of spirit.”
“Yeah,” Miranda sighs,” I suppose I get that from you.”
Henry quickly laughs, “It would be nice to think so.”
Miranda takes her jacket off and places it on the end of the couch. Henry stands up as she lies down and as he put the glasses to one side and looking back at her, she’s closed her eyes and appears to be sleeping.
He lays her jacket over her and quietly walks away.