PDA

View Full Version : Anatomy: Home



Hex Angel
03-17-04, 09:39 PM
Home was a bit unsettling for Ivy McGinnis. After spending the entire month of January in Florida, most of the month of February in Australia, and the past week in Greensboro, the Queens apartment seemed... alien.

Not home.

A quick ride down Rte 3 to the GW Bridge brought Ivy from the Meadowlands to the City. She hadn't realized until that moment how much she missed New York. Tomorrow would bring more work, more headaches, and more stress - she had to threaten some promoters who had been giving Angel a hard time. She had to hack another column into the fWo's website. And she had to see the kids.

For the complexities of Ivy's life, her keychain was ridiculously light. Key for the front door, key for the building door, key for the mailbox. Key for Eli's Bronx apartment, for Eli and Angel's Hollywood condo, key for Coop's. Key for her CS Enterprises office and her Greensboro studio apartment.

Eight keys held the secrets of her life. Everything else that Ivy McGinnis needed to negotiate her path was locked inside her uncanny brain.

Two months' worth of mail sat in the office at Coop's, something she'd deal with tomorrow. For now, as Ivy pushed her door open and dropped her bag on the floor in a ritual as old as the monicker 'Psycho Bitch,' the only thoughts in her mind consisted of 'Shower' and 'Sleep.'

The answering machine wouldn't let her do either, however.

You have three new messages.

Lovely. She'd checked the machine before she left at four.

Ivy kicked off her boots and headed for the bathroom, discarding clothing as she went.

Message One was Received at four-twenty-two-p-m.

"Hey Ivy, it's Rudy. Guess you left already. Will talk to you at the arena."

Yeah, Rudy talked to her at the arena. Good to go. Ivy rummaged through the bathroom closet and found her Yankees jersey and a pair of cutoff sweatpants, decent enough for a post- shower collapse on the couch.

Message Two was Received at nine-fifty-nine-p-m.

"IVY!"

She laughed - it was Cally.

"You're on TV! The CSWA is on TV! Protect the children! Later!"[/b]

That girl had a flair for the dramatic, she'd be a good manager in the business someday if she wanted to stick with it, and if she could fight the tides of genetics.

The couch suddenly looked comfortable, and a shower suddenly felt optional.

[i]Message Three was Received at twelve-oh-six-a-m.

Hmmm... that would mean the phone was ringing as Ivy was climbing the stairs.

"...."

"Speak up?" asked Ivy of the machine.

"...it's Mark."

Windham.

"Listen, I---never mind." CLICK

Why did he call? What's he trying to prove?

Ivy fell back on her couch and removed her glasses, holding her forehead tightly with her other hand. Too much had gone down between them, not just that night at the hospital and the diner. His first shots in Anaheim, she and Eli's final shots in New Jersey... might've broken things for good.

Eventually, she fell asleep.

...But the dreams didn't let her lie...