Queen Bee

December 2007 (3)

Sliding the familiar key into the lock, I gripped my sleeping baby as tight as I could. Turning the key over, I quickly swung the door open, flying my other arm to directly under Des' dangling legs as I felt him slowly start to slip from my hold. 

Pulling the keys from out of the lock, I stepped inside the warm house, feeling as my skin was quick to begin defrosting. Gently setting my stuff down so I wouldn't wake up Des, I headed towards the upstairs. 

Trailing my eyes over everything I passed, it all looked the exact same. The furniture, the hung up photographs, even the stairs squeaked exactly how I remembered them... And it brought back nothing but the worst memories. It was almost as if I could hear through the walls Marshall's distinct, booming voice screaming at me, his words slurring together as he tries his best to build a coherent thought around why I'm the worst, most miserable bitch he's ever met. 

Feeling as a shiver ran down my spine, I finally reached Des' room. Gently creaking open the door, I decided I wouldn't even try to put him into his pyjamas tonight. Instead, I just laid him down on his single sized bed, earning a few gentle stirs from him as his limp body hit the comfortable mattress. 

Tucking him in, I left a small kiss in the centre of his forehead before quietly turning to make my way out of the room. Shutting off the light, I re-closed the door and headed back downstairs for the belongings I had left by the door. 

Grabbing ahold of my duffle bag and purse, I once more began trekking up the steps, my ears becoming filled with the incredibly deafening silence. Reaching the top floor, I stopped in my tracks, analyzing all of the doors as I debated where I should sleep. Fighting against the impulse to just head directly into Marshall's room, I decided on one of the three different guest bedrooms. You wouldn't like it if Alicia slept in one of her ex's beds either, Angel. 

Heading into the room, I set all of my stuff down as I began removing my heavy winter jacket. Just as I was throwing it onto the cozy looking chair I had boughten a few years ago, a loud ringing coming from my purse quickly forced my attention. 

Bending down, I began fishing through the giant black hole, quickly coming into contact with the singing and vibrating device. Pulling it out, I watched as Paul's name flashed across the screen. Somehow feeling both nervous and annoyed, I clicked talk, knowing good and well this was about Marshall and likely needed my attention whatever it was. 

"Hello?" I deadpanned, wanting so badly to just chew into Paul right then and there, but refraining as best I could. 

"Hi, Angel. How're you?" He quickly replied in his best, most professional voice possible. 

"Fine. Is Marshall okay?" 

"Yeah, he's asleep now. I must have just missed you. I had to go and talk to some of the hospital staff while you were here." 

"Mm." I hummed, uninterested. I know I shouldn't, but I just can't help but hold a grudge against Paul for allowing this all to happen. 

"Anyway, uh- Marshall said you were staying in Detroit until tomorrow? At the house?" 

"Yeah. Our flight leaves at twelve."

"Okay..." He trailed off momentarily, almost as if he was nodding. "Uhm, I hate to ask you this, but is there anyway you could maybe stay a few weeks with him? Just until he gets on his feet again-" 

"No, Paul." I sternly blared through.

"Angel, I promise I wouldn't ask you this if you weren't my last option." 

"Your last option?! How 'bout I'm no option! Where's Kim? Where's Nate? Where's you?! This is your fuckin' job! Not mine!"

"Angel, I have to go back to New York!" He desperately exclaimed.