Telephone

[writer_mel]

She was back in New York. Italy, LA, Vegas, Boston and finally the Big Apple. Little world traveler Mel was finally back in her own space and not a bit of it looked familiar. Part of it was how long she'd been gone, she knew. Part of it was not stopping at home first to reboot. Part of it was…something else.

Sprawled on her bed, she picked up her phone and hit speed dial number one. Four nice, solid rings later and her mother's voice cut through the air loud enough Mel had to hold the phone away from her head. Nancy listened to the most basic information—Mel had landed, Mel was safe, the plant had died—and started telling the life story of everyone she knew. Putting an arm under her head she let the words cover her like an infant's security blanket. She didn't have to go to Ohio to go home. One of Ma Bell's grandchildren was more than happy to take her there for the grandchild of a dime.

Almost an hour later she hung up, having spoken to her father for exactly ten minutes, and got up for a bathroom and potato chip break. Settled on the couch with the bag in hand, she groaned a little when the phone rang. She only answered it when she read the number on the caller id. Stanley wouldn't keep her nearly as long, although he would insist on seeing her the next day. He'd been her one and only agent ever and by now she counted him as her best friend. Older than her father and metrosexual before that was a word, he encouraged and bullied her on an almost daily basis through e-mails. He only called her when she was in New York. He'd have an assistant call her hotel if he really needed her when she traveled, but he would not call. Try as she might, she could get no explanation for it.

Promise made to have lunch with him the next day; she hung up and rolled onto her back. She closed her eyes and dropped the chips to the floor. Just as she drifted to sleep, the phone rang again. The number didn't look familiar at all and she was about to ignore the call when a deep voice echoed in her mind. Biting her lip, she flipped open the phone and spoke a soft hello.

The voice on the other end wasn't familiar and she wasn't sure she ever wanted it to be. Sitting up, she grabbed a pen and wrote down the information it had to offer. Having hung up she sat and stared at it for a long time before rolling back onto the couch to try and sleep. When she finally passed out, she clutched the paper in her hand.


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