Room 513 of Different International Relations; Sunday Afternoon [ 06/21 ].

[stocksgrrl]

Turtle was sitting on her bed, legs folded in front of her, which was very common for her, but there was a distinct lack of the usual scattering of reports and charts and graphs and files. Instead, there was just a newspaper folded to recent sports scores, and she had a telephone in her hand and she was talking into it, bright and animated. Of course she'd be calling Jake to wish him a Happy Father's Day, and find out how the bookie business was going and how her mom and Angela were and groan at a few really bad jokes and make appeals about how she did not sound like a thirty-year-old woman, saying it was too soon after the breakup to find a date for the dance next week, and, besides, didn't he always say that she was too young to date, and he was probably just glad that she wasn't dating Jeff anymore. Smart man, Jake easily deflected that one with investment news.

It had been a good phone call, a long one, and they eventually got around to good-byes because Grace was yelling at him about Lord knew what, so Turtle ended the call feeling pretty happy and contented.

[[ door and post are open! ]]