||[Jul. 1st, 2004|05:12 pm]
Angela is sitting in her room eating a burger and fries and watching the Secret Adventures of Jules Vern when her phone trills from it's perch on the crumbling veneer of the end table next to the bed. She glares at it a moment before laying across the sagging mattress and answering, nearly certain who it's going to be, "Hello."
"Happy birthday, Peanut," George's voice is warm and friendly, underlined with just enough concern that for a moment she feels guilty for staying away as long as she has.
"Hey, chickenshit," she can't keep the smile out of her voice. For all that she had said she didn't want to be bothered, it feels good to be loved.
"So how's Santa Barbara?"
"What? How did you..."
George barks out a laugh, "Credit card."
She blinks then chuckles, "So you've been stalking me?"
"No, no," George assures her, "just making sure you're okay."
"I can tell. Gary said to tell you happy birthday, too. He'll still be here when you get back."
George listens to her soft intake of breath before continuing in a gentle tone, "He's a good man..."
"I know," Angela snaps. She closes her eyes, "It's just..."
"You're falling for him?"
"What! No, no way..."
"Yeah. You're fine," George sighs. "Come home."
"Can't. I can't move in until Saturday."
"Come here. My home. Rick misses you. Hell, at this point, even Rosie misses you. Besides, Rick wants to take you shopping this weekend for living room furniture."
"George. No, I..."
"Please. I miss you. I worry about you. I bet you've been eating nothing but greasy junk food. Come on. I'll bake you your favorite cake. Please."
She closes her eyes, "Alright. Alright. Let me pack and I'll be in later tonight."
"I love you. Drive carefully."
"I will... Love you too."
Hanging up with a sigh, she looks at her suitcases, already packed and sitting by the door. She starts to take another bite of her burger, then shakes her head, dropping it and the fries in the trash. "George, you sure do know how to take the joy out of a pity party."