Scarlett Park (mamakilledpapa) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2010-11-14 02:11:00 |
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Entry tags: | #solo, 2009-08-02 |
But don't you bring me no bad news
Who: Scarlett, UofM Hospital Staff (NPC)
Where: Scarlett's loft in LA > on a plane
When: Early morning
The apartment was nice enough, though it understated what she did for a living. It was a two-bedroom loft near Beverly Hills that had a zip code that was fashionably close enough to 90210. The decorations were modern but spartan because if there was one thing Scarlett hated more than her job, it was unnecessary clutter. There was a Wii, an Xbox and other gaming equipment attached to her forty-inch HD television but they hadn’t been used since the kids were last in her apartment. The kitchen was clean and seemed unused because it was. Scarlett ordered all her food from the same Chinese restaurant down the street that all she had to do was say her name into the receiver and her food would appear fifteen minutes later. All her fridge contained was beer and leftover egg rolls. The spare bedroom contained two twin-sized beds for her children when they were over and her own bedroom contained a Cal King bed that she often slept on alone. In the rare occasion she did have someone over, it was never for the night and so no one technically slept on that bed but her. Except maybe when Nathan crawled into bed with her when the earthquakes scared him. It was in this bed that Scarlett had just dropped into two hours before her phone started ringing.
Rolling over, Scarlett mumbled a threat under her breath to her editors. If they were calling her about another problem they encountered with camera angles, she was going to break someone’s neck. And she was only half-kidding. As she reached for her cellphone, she realized it was her personal line that was ringing and not the Blackberry she used for work. Her editors certainly did not call her on her personal line and they knew better than to call her anywhere but her work phone. Instinct told her to pick the phone up despite the fact that she didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?” she mumbled groggily, voice coming out more muffled than she intended it to as she rolled back over onto her back.
“Are we speaking to Mrs. Scarlett Crowe?” the voice on the other line asked.
Scarlett twitched internally and told the infernal screaming in her brain to shut up. She had not been called that in more than a decade and the past catching up to her was not welcome at all. Not to mention she hadn’t spoken to or heard from Dominic since the divorce. “No,” she responded. “This is Scarlett Park.”
“Oh, we apologize Mrs. Park...we were hoping to speak to Mr. Crowe’s wife.”
“Miss Park,” Scarlett snapped into the phone. “This is Mr. Crowe’s ex-wife, as in I no longer associate with the man and have not heard from him in years. If he remarried, this is not she.”
“Miss Park, we’re very sorry. But you, along with Mr. Crowe’s son are listed in his next of kin...”
That caught Scarlett’s attention. She pushed up off the bed and leaned on her elbow as she looked at her alarm clock. “Why are you calling his next of kin?” she asked, voice sharp. They only ever contacted emergency people if it was an accident or if he was comatose or if...
“We’re very sorry for your loss, Miss Park...” the lady on the other line was continuing to say. Scarlett had missed most of the rest of that statement and she really didn’t care to hear any more.
“Where’s Hunter?”
“Pardon?”
“My...his...our son, Hunter. Where is he?” Scarlett growled into the phone as she threw the covers off of her and started walking towards her closet. “Have you spoken to him? Is he all right?”
“He’s here at the hospital, Miss Park. He was here with your ex-husband when he passed.”
“Tell him I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Scarlett told the stranger in Michigan right before she ended the call. Her speed dial 1 was her assistant and Molly answered on the first ring. “Get me the earliest plane ticket to Ann Arbor you can find, rent me a car for a week and fax me the details,” Scarlett didn’t even wait for a confirmation before ending the phone call and throwing her phone back on her bed as she pulled out of her suitcases and began throwing clothes into it. Just the necessities and what she’d need for the first few nights. Anything else she would forget could be bought in Scarlet Oak. She shivered. Even the name of the place made her twitch. She’d told Dominic the night she’d left that she’d only return over his dead body. Well, now she was.
Four hours, twenty-seven minutes and eighteen seconds later, Scarlett was in a first-class seat on a plane taking her to Ann Arbor, Michigan. She hadn’t seen Hunter since he was four and hadn’t spoken to him in the same amount of time. She couldn’t quite remember what he looked like since she hadn’t kept pictures and briefly wondered if he’d recognize her. That thought was immediately replaced, however, by a detailed plan of action as Scarlett organized the week she was going to be staying in Michigan.
Call the editors to let them know she was taking a family sickness leave and to not bother her unless they wanted their lifespans to be significantly shortened, arrange Dominic’s funeral, arrange for the sale of the house, call Molly to find Hunter a school he could transfer to near Beverly Hills, search for a bigger house that would accommodate Hunter and the other kids when they visited, buy Hunter a ticket to L.A.
As soon as the list was finished, Scarlett began breaking down each list item and defining what little things came with that necessity. It took her a full three hours to accomplish all this planning before she finally leaned her seat backwards and closed her eyes. She was still excessively sleep-deprived and would need all her wits about her if she wanted to get this done as quickly as possible. And with the least amount of clutter. Whatever emotions she felt about Dominic's passing could be dealt with later. Right now, she needed to be efficient.
Sighing, Scarlett clasped her hands over her stomach as she tried to empty her mind so she could rest. She heard her flight attendant walk past her quietly and ask the gentleman behind her if he needed another drink. The answer was yes. Scarlett didn’t even have to try and she could also hear most of the conversations in coach. It was annoying but something that she had had to learn to live with since the accident. Like the transformations. Like her job. Like near-death experiences in the shower.
Like the trail of dead men she tended to leave in her wake.