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A Failure to Communicate

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—Andrea, have you contacted my jewelers yet?

—Your jewelers?

—For the rings? Honestly, Andrea, where is your head?

—Your jewelers. Okay. Rings. Right.

—Yes. And the stationers for the invitations.


—We'll have to decide on the venue, as well. I am imagining something intimate, with perhaps only two or three hundred people.

—Two or three hundred guests. What sort of venue were you thinking?

—I don't know, something romantic?

—Romantic. Right. Um.

—When is my meeting with Eliot?


—Eliot Spitzer? Andrea, are you paying attention? This is a tremendously important undertaking, and you must be completely focused.

—You want to meet with Eliot Spitzer? The governor?

—Yes, to speak with him about this ridiculous law. There is no reason whatsoever that we should not be allowed to marry.

—Marry? Who's getting married?

—We are, of course.

—We being you and—?

—You and I. Andrea, are you feeling quite well?


—Andrea? Emily? Emily! Call my doctor. Andrea seems to be suffering some sort of episode.


—Are you feeling better? Shall I cancel the doctor?

—We can't get married.

—I know that, which is why I must speak with Eliot, so he can change that preposterous law. There is absolutely no explanation for why we should not be allowed—

—We can't get married because we're not dating, Miranda.

—We're not— What are you talking about?

—What am I talking about? Miranda, you're my boss; that's our relationship.

—That has nothing whatsoever to do with anything, Andrea. I'm sure I've made my intentions perfectly clear to you—

—Your what?

—My intentions. My intentions to marry you.

—No. No, I think I would have remembered that. I work for you; I come to work and work for you and then I go home and we don't see each other and then I come back to work and we work.

—Andrea, I don't have time for your tiresome complaints about long hours. We must make sure the preparations are—

—Miranda, you've never said anything about this. Besides, if you're going to marry me, you can damn well listen to my complaints. Not that you're going to marry me, because we're not dating!

—Are you sure I've never mentioned this?

—Yes. You can check my notebook, and you know I write everything down.

—You might not have written this down.

—Do you remember telling me about any of this?

—I suppose I may have neglected to inform you of my precise plans, but regardless, Andrea—

—Miranda, no. Absolutely not.

—Why not?

—Because— because—

—That is not an answer. So: the jewelers, a suitable location, the guest list—perhaps as many as 350, but no more than that—

—Miranda! Stop it.


—I'm not marrying you!

—You still have not provided any significantly compelling reasons why we should not go forth with this arrangement—

—You haven't asked me.

—Excuse me?

—And we've never kissed! You want to marry me, but you've never kissed me.

—You have similarly never kissed me.

—I didn't even know you wanted me to kiss you.

—You know now.

—You want to kiss me. You want me to kiss you.

—Andrea, stop smirking.

—But you want to kiss me.

—Andrea, really. We have preparations to make. You need to choose an engagement ring; we can put off purchasing the wedding rings for a few more weeks. Make the appointment with Eliot as soon as possible: we are having a June wedding, that gives him four months to make sure everything is properly legislated—

—I think you should kiss me now.

—Andrea, why have you not made that appointment?

—I'll go call his office. But you're definitely going to kiss me later. And Miranda?


—Happy Valentine's Day.

—It's Valentine's Day?

—Every February.

—Oh. Make a note on my calendar for next year. And find yourself something to wear when we go out to dinner tonight.

—Does that mean I should also make reservations?

—Do I have to tell you everything?