Fandom: Castle
Characters: Martha Rodgers, Richard Castle
Word Count: 460 words
Rating: PG
Summary: Is there any place else you'd rather be, if you were Martha?
Notes: Nothing's mine! Written for
halfamoon Comment Fic Fest hosted by
sweethours. Prompt: Castle, Martha, I'll take a slice of life with that long island iced tea.
Commentfic fest posting.
"Did you hear about Angie?"
The other women leaned forward along the lucite bar while Martha cocked one wary eyebrow at the eager speaker. "No, do go on," she finally drawled, sipping at her Long Island Iced Tea.
"She was up at Boston over Christmas, visiting her grandkids, you know, when she slipped and broke her ankle. Recovery's going so slowly that Angie says she's giving up on New York winters. She's selling her co-op and moving to a retirement community in Sarasota!" Clare Downes waved her hand in agitation, then picked up her drink for a revivifying gulp while crowds swirled around the small group at the buzzing fund-raiser.
"Sarasota?" Martha asked incredulously. "Is she giving up on life?"
Jean Marsh, retired from a forty-year career in advertising, rolled her eyes at Martha's question. "It's not that bad, Martha. Sarasota's warm, sunny and quiet but not too quiet. And you sure as hell won't end up on your ass on an ice-covered sidewalk in Florida."
Martha threw back the last of her drink, signalling to the handsome young bartender to bring her another. "Yes, but you might end up in the emergency room due to sheer boredom, at least in a 'retirement community.'"
The red-haired actress sketched mocking air quotes for the last words before graciously accepting a fresh drink from the bartender.
"I mean, Miami, maybe," Martha said, consideringly. "Key West? A snooze-fest if you're there for more than a few days. New York has everything: theatre, shopping, restaurants, life, people! Let's face it, wouldn't you die without all this?"
Her grand gesture drew the other women's eyes out the plate glass window, onto the grey, drizzly Manhattan streetscape where cars lurched forward in stop-and-go traffic while rain-pelted pedestrians hunched their shoulders against the windy.
"I don't know, Martha," Clare said doubtfully. "On days like today, maybe Sarasota doesn't sound that bad."
Martha Rodgers looked, really looked, out the window at the wet, miserable scene. She blinked, put down her drink on the bar and let herself succumb to a helpless fit of laughter.
"Mother? Everything's okay?" Richard had sidled up alongside the elegant group perched on their barstools, checking on his mother.
Martha composed herself. "We're wonderful, darling. We were just talking about Angie. She's moving to Sarasota, you know."
Richard's eyebrows crept up to his hairline and he took a swig from the tumbler in his hand. "Don't tell me I'm going to lose any of the rest of you lovely ladies to the charms of the Sunshine State? You're all much too young to head down with all those retirees, anyway."
Clare and Jean blushed, both chuckling at Martha's son mock-worried expression.
"Not to worry, dear," Martha advised. "There's a lot of life in us, yet!"
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