I'm Not Excited [DISCONTINUED; REBOOTED]

It's Just a Talk

Mothers.
Most people had one.

Ezra, for example, was close to his mother, Bobbi. In fact, it was because of Bobbi - a therapist, that Ezra was usually calm and accepting of his emotions, and truthful.
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"Hello, Romanov speaking," Illyana answered her home phone.

"Illyana, honey. Have you forgotten about me?" A giggling female voice asked on the other end of the line. "It's your mother, sweetie."

"M-mom?! Ohmygosh, hi!" The young redhead nearly jumped out of her couch at the sound of her mother's voice. "I've missed you so much!"

Barbara Romanov smiled as she leaned against the kitchen counter, holding a cigarette. "I've missed you too, Illyana; but why have you not visited me?" She cocked a brow, putting the cigarette out.

Illyana pursed her lips together, feeling an immense amount of guilt wash over her. She hadn't realized it'd been nearly four years since they'd even seen each other, and almost two since they'd last spoken over the phone. She sighed, running her hand down her hair.

"Momma, I'm sorry... But I've been busy. You know how hectic my life can get. The Times demands undivided attention, y'know."

Barbara rolled her eyes, shaking her head sarcastically. "Illyana Jean, before I couldn't even make you do your homework, and now that's all you think about? Well... Can't say I ain't proud of you." The woman strolled around the kitchen counter, picking up her copy of the New York Times. "You're interviewing all the major stars. Heard of all the praise you got for interviewing a hippie band."

Illyana chuckled, looking proud. "Indie-Alt band, mom. I'm not even sure hippies are around." She stood up straight, placing on hand on her waist. "You've been reading up on my things?"

Barbara scoffed. "Of course! What mother wouldn't? Illyana, I'm proud of what you've done with yourself; you're not a brat like others I've known."

"T-that means a lot, mom..."

"Great! Now, do momma a favor and come meet me. I don't know what to do with myself. The house, it's too big, but it's only for myself... It can get very lonely for me," Barbara confessed, looking sadly at the window pane.

"Well, Greenwich isn't exactly a place for widowed women, is it? The houses are mansions, mom! Mansions!-"

"I get it, Greenwich, bad. SoHo, good. Now come over here and bring some snacks; I've got the wine here, love."

Well, there's my plan for the weekend...
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[ Hours Later... ]

"Momma?" Illyana walked into the darkened living room, holding a box of snacks for herself and her mother.

"Sit down, it's just a talk..." Barbara responded calmly.

"O-okay..." Illyana furrowed her brow, carefully making her way near her mother. Barbara sat still, grinning at her daughter's presence. "Momma..." Illyana tackle hugged her, letting laughter out of her lips.

Barbara embraced her daughter back. She didn't look different, but yet she'd changed. "Illy, my baby. It's been a long time."

Illyana pulled away and sat down in front of her mother. "Most definitely has been. How are you?"

Barbara smiled politely, and looked to the right, her daughter left, but she stayed right.

"Lonely... Ever since your dad left us, lonely. Doesn't help that Morgan's in boarding school and Justin's busy traveling all the time..."