Nate’s apartment in Boston was undergoing a make-over of sorts. Lily had agreed with him, when he mused aloud over the state of the place: stacks of empty beer bottles, waiting for any who entered his abode, did not signal adulthood in quite the way he might like. So they moved those out of the way, and did for him what he had done for Andy, creating a real sense of home for perhaps the first time in his adult life.

On the eve before Lily and Doug were to end their brief and unpaid vacation to spend time with their friend, their thoughts were all turning to the obvious concern, no matter what they outwardly spoke about.

“Our Andy, becoming a Mom…”

Doug and Nate glanced over at Lily. They had been talking about New York and tennis and wishing they could afford U.S. Open tickets, when Lily uttered those words. She seemed suddenly to have realized that her old (and perhaps ex) friend was actually having a kid. An actual kid.

Lily chugged her wine and held out the glass for another, which Nate happily provided. “We’re growing up.” She decided, her voice cracking with nervousness. “Dougie, we have to kiss and make up with this one…” She paused and took another drink. “We are going to grovel.” It was decided.

“I know…” Doug settled in beside Nate with a shrug. “It’s time. Think she’ll forgive us?” His voice did not give away the usual confidence and he gazed sheepishly down at his drink.

Nate smiled, genuinely, for the first time in a week it seemed. He’d worried and wondered and thought far too much for his own good. Now it was time to just deal. “yeah,” he replied. “She’ll forgive you…” He hoped so anyway.


Hours later, and back in New York, Andy and Miranda were sharing their first morning together. It was 5am, and Miranda was going to miss her 6am yoga session, but she really didn’t mind. Andy lay against her arm, bare from the waist up, her pajama bottoms low on her hips.

“How many women have you been with?” Andy was asking. Her hand trailed up and down Miranda’s thigh. She remembered touching Miranda there once before, and pushed aside the urge to move too quickly along.

Miranda squirmed, as much from nervousness over the question she’d been asked as from the other woman’s wandering hands. “I don’t know.” She tried to dismiss the question. They’d been chatting like this, in soft tones, since awaking far too early.

Andy waited. Her eyes scanned the room languidly. The back of her neck was caressed by Miranda’s breath and then her lips. “Seven.” She heard.

“jesus!” Andy turned over at once. Her jaw stayed open far too long for Miranda’s comfort level. “You were the first woman I ever slept with you know.” Her tone was almost accusing.

“Oh for…” That familiar impatience was back. Miranda huffed and nearly left Andy’s side, but for the iron grip on her arm. Andy muttered her apology, but a smirk stayed glued to her full lips. Miranda decided that kissing the smirk away might sooth the sudden spat of jealousy.

“Hmmmm…” Andy paused thoughtfully, pulling away just slightly. “One woman…versus…fifty women…”

“I did not say fifty.” Miranda murmured against her chin, then kissed her cheek and rubbed the sensitive lower back where she had once licked a series of delicate lines until Andy had trembled. She rolled the still grumpy woman onto her back and decided to pay her a different kind of attention. “Besides,” She added, her lips pressed firmly to Andy’s collarbone for a second before she resumed speaking. “none of them were as lovely as you.”

Andy snorted derisively. Still, she wiggled with happiness at what she considered to be an obvious lie. “Sure you might say that now, but really…at the time…?”

“Andrea.” Miranda was serious now. She pulled away to look the other woman in the eye. Big brown eyes stared back at her own, watching for any sign of a lie. “Believe me when I say this, and I will only say it once…none of those women do what you can for me. I had my fun, I won’t say that I didn’t, but fumblings in the dark, with a drunk co-worker, a depressed flatmate…” She decided against adding the others, having made her point, “These experiences do not measure up to the experience of making love to you, right for the start, right from that first kiss.”

“Oh.” If she’d not been laying down, she may have swooned. Andy settled for fluttering her eyelashes in a way that made Miranda chuckle. She became aware again of how she was dressed—undressed, really—when Miranda’s eyes swooped downward and her hand lightly caressed the bare skin of her breasts, the roundness of her belly. “It was pretty good, in the hotel room, huh.”

Miranda nodded. “It was also sad…knowing that you were leaving.” She kept her eyes on Andy’s as she pulled off her remaining sleepwear.

Andy grimaced, remembering how she had felt that day—a curious mix of anger and lust and total despondence. Now though, she trailed a hand over Miranda’s cheek, happy that they were sorting through whatever it was that was between them. Still, there was uncertainty. Such was life, she supposed. But instead of asking for reassurances, she asked Miranda to take off her shirt. When Miranda smirked at her instead, Andy laughed and did the work for her.



To say that Andy and Miranda were distracted at work that day, would have been an understatement. Frequent texts and brief phone calls peppered an otherwise unproductive day. Some of these ended with Andy giggling uncontrollably at some lewd innuendo or scathing remark by Miranda—hint and innuendo cheered Miranda from the inadequacies of her staff, who earned surprisingly low marks after a remarkable performance the day before. Their morning had been so lovely, so easy, that they were both reluctant to give up any opportunity to spend time together. The Emily and Serena dinner at Andy’s would be Miranda’s next chance to see her new lover, but she would have to wait until her employees were far gone.


“Miranda, I’ve told them…” Andy started. She heard the disapproving hum on the other end. It was an impromptu lunch date, held over the phone. “Anyway,” She quickly backtracked. “I’ll re-establish the need for discretion and so on…” This almost satisfied the woman and Andy sighed with relief. She had to meet up with Christian later, and didn’t want any more anxiety than she already felt. Miranda seemed to sense this and left her on a sweeter note, going so far as to compliment Andy on her performance that morning.

Andy’s face was beet-red when she hung up the phone. She could not wipe the smile off her face for the rest of the afternoon.

She had to concentrate though. Work, work work, and then…

Christian would be taking her out to dinner.

Andy gave a silent comical screech at the mere thought. Her co-worker across the way, Alice, a woman who bore a striking resemblance to Parker Posey, smiled goofily at her and then mimicked the same scream, thinking Andy to be stressed about work.

Andy burst into laughter and returned to her computer.




Christian had actually flown back into town the day before, after a writer’s panel in Vancouver. The time difference had annoyed him slightly, making him feel rushed and sleepy so he hadn’t called Andy right away. Christian lazed about his apartment, contemplating staying there for the next few months. Of course he and Andy had to talk and actually, he had to admit that a small part of him wanted to see if there could be something more to the interaction.

But moments into their first meeting in six months, when Andy’s lips kissed the air beside his cheek, he knew that things would stay on the level of friends.

“So…is it mine?” Was the first question he asked.

Andy let out a sigh of exasperation. “Obviously, I’m not sure. Le boyfriend, remember? Nate might be the father or you might be.” She swallowed a laugh at the idea that it might be Miranda’s. She had begun to picture a child who looked like them both. The most that came to mind was a kind of Lucy Lawless look-a-like, with icy blue eyes and dark hair. Oh, but Christian was still asking her questions—she really should pay attention, she decided, and stop daydreaming about her and Miranda’s love-child. “Huh?” She stammered.

“Are you ok for money?”

Andy leaned forward then and banged her head lightly on the table. Christian had booked them into Serendipity, which was almost cute, definitely sweet, but also unnecessary. Andy was actually having more than a few random thoughts each day, about cutting back on some of the opulence that the city encouraged. “My mother paid my rent for the next six months.” She mumbled so that he could barely hear her. “No, I don’t need money. Thanks though. I don’t need a breast pump either.” She patted his hand kindly—he really was being sweet.

“Oh, well, good.” He hadn’t thought to buy her any such thing and looked a bit dazed at the suggestion. “Well…but…” A father. He might be a father. He kept thinking that over and over again. He was a writer, dammit, he wasn’t a family person. Writers sold their families out and lived opulent and dysfunctional existences in random hotel rooms and…and…coffee shops! He did his best writing in Dunkin’ Donuts, but no one was allowed to know that.

“Dunkin’ Donuts, Christian?” Andy snickered. “You’re talking out LOUD by the way.” She waved a hand in front of his face until he addressed her, rather than the ceiling. “Good to know though. And by the way, I’m a writer as well. I don’t live a dysfunctional existence.”

Christian flapped his hands at her and shushed her, which was an odd and shocking gesture, but which led to even more laughing on Andy’s part.

“Omigod. Omigod.” She couldn’t stop. “wow, ok. Listen.” She grabbed his flailing hands. “Listen. Ok? I’ll get the paternity test, all right? I will. Just, after the baby is born.”

“But then I’ll miss stuff. Like ultra-sounds.” He whined. “And I want to have input into their high school.” He was surprised at his own reaction, and from the look on Andy’s face, she probably was as well.

“Well, then, don’t miss stuff. And you can help me pick the school it goes to in fifteen years time either way, hows that for a deal?” She patted his arm kindly. “But you’re going to have to wait, and if you still want me to, I’ll get the blood work done.” Her smile was still sweet and she didn’t seem enormously bothered by his anxieties. She could sympathize though, and would concede to the test if need be. Then again, how shocking that he wasn’t running out on his responsibilities. “You’re a decent man Christian.” She added quietly.

Christian walked back to his apartment in a daze after that. He pondered the possibilities of being a father. This Nate guy—le boyfriend—seemed intent on helping Andy out. But it also seemed as though Andy would make room for both men to help, if they so choose. Did he want such a thing? Andy had looked so lovely, sitting there, with her belly all enormous and her hands drifting to it again and again. She had looked much more confident than he remembered her to be, that was the thing that made her even prettier than before.

He was being given a chance to be involved with something pretty cool, and with no strings attached. If he or Nate decided to buzz off sometime during the kid’s life, it would be their decision. But that was the point—it was their decision. And if he wanted any kind of responsibility for now, he would have to stick it out. Would he walk away when the kid was an infant, because blood results said it was le boyfriend’s? The possibility seemed…wrong, somehow.

Suddenly, he wanted the kid to be his. At first, the possibility had seemed too bizarre to handle. But now…

Then again, maybe he didn’t care about the blood test…

Maybe Andy shouldn’t get it done…

Christian collapsed on his sofa in a heap when he arrived home. He did not bother to take off his boots or his overcoat or his scarf. He just lay there and stared at the ceiling for a long time.