| Cordelia: Greetings from Terminal Island, California By Kuzibah |
| Part 3 of the Summer Vacation Series Disclaimer: Cordelia, Angel, Wesley and the situations connected to �Buffy the Vampire Slayer� and �Angel� are owned by Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, Mutant Enemy, the WB network, and (apparently) Evil Fox. No connection or ownership by the author is suggested or implied. Archive- Sure, but email me and let me know where it�s going. Feedback- Absolutely. ******************* �So where did Cordelia go,� Wesley asked. �She didn�t say,� Angel replied. �It�s convenient she decided to give herself another vacation during the feast season of the Saint of Torturers,� Wesley added. �Ten days when the evil creatures of the earth are sworn to do no harm,� Angel said didactically. �I imagine she�s taking advantage of the quiet someplace with an ocean view,� Wesley said a bit wistfully. �And frequented by rich, young, eligible bachelors, no doubt,� Angel said. �Yes, no doubt,� Wesley said dryly. �That�s our Cordelia, taking gold-digging to an all new level.� - - - - - - - - - - Cordelia placed the three paperback books into the box alongside the instant hazelnut cappuccino and the jumbo packet of Oreos. Her phone was ringing, but she let the machine pick it up. �Hi, it�s me again,� said a man�s voice. �Sorry to keep bothering you but I want to make sure we remember everything.� Cordelia pulled all the items out of the box and arranged them on the table again. �I want you to wear a dress,� the man continued. �Short, but not sophisticated. I want you to emphasize your youth. Put your hair up in a ponytail if you can. Very light make-up, fresh looking.� Cordelia stacked the items in the box again, placing the heavy books on the bottom this time. �I don�t remember where you�re working, but if you can make it sound insecure, temporary, that would be better. And Miss Chase, most important�� Cordelia froze, listening intently, now. �Your mother�s hearing is set for ten A.M. You�ll get to see her for one hour beforehand, and if you�re bringing her anything, they�ll need to check it first, so be there even earlier. Call me if you have any questions. Actually, call me when you get in, either way�� - - - - - - - - - - Cordelia sat in the room. It was mostly empty, harshly lit. The word �sterile� lodged in her mind, refusing to change into something less institutional. Stop it, she told herself. Mother needs you, needs to know you�re well and happy. Now, are you an actress or aren�t you? The door from the cell block opened and Mrs. Chase entered, looking very unlike herself in the gray prison shift, her face still pink from the industrial soap she was given here at the prison. Cordelia suddenly wished she had thought to pack a few bars of the almond and honey soap her mother used to buy from the �Nature�s Spirit Body Shop� catalog. Well, with any luck she could order it for herself tonight, Cordelia thought. Let�s stay positive. Her mother approached her cautiously, uncertain what was allowed, but the guards made no move to stop her. She extended her arms. �Cordelia, darling,� she said, her voice breaking. Cordelia fell into her mother�s arms. �Oh, Mommy,� she said, �I�ve missed you so much. Are you okay? Are they treating you well? I swear, if they�re doing anything to you�� Mrs. Chase maneuvered her daughter into the plastic orange couch below the windows. �No, I�m fine, darling, I�m fine. But how are you, dear? How�s the acting going?� Cordelia pulled a little away to look at her mother. Upbeat, she reminded herself. Positive and upbeat. �I�m doing tons of auditions,� she said. �Commercials, and I�m trying out for a pilot next week.� Mrs. Chase stroked her daughter�s hair fondly. �That�s wonderful,� she said. �Are you still doing, what was it, secretary work for a security firm?� �Private Investigator,� Cordelia corrected gently. �A friend from Sunnydale. Angel.� �That�s right,� her mother said, and she repeated his name slowly. �Angel� what�s his last name? Do I know his family?� Cordelia tried not to smile. �I don�t think you know him, Mom,� she said. Mrs. Chase took both her daughter�s hands. �And how�s that going? Is he keeping you busy?� And then some, thought Cordelia. �You said he was a friend,� her mother continued. �He keeps an eye out for you, I guess.� And Cordelia realized what her mother was really asking. �He�s a good man, Mother,� she said. �Like the big brother I never had.� She hesitated, not wanting to upset her mother further, then went on. �I had a little trouble with a� boyfriend. Angel totally took care of it for me. Then a few weeks ago, I was� sick, and he was right there.� Cordelia squeezed her mother�s hands. �He�s family, Mom.� Mrs. Chase visibly relaxed. �I�m so glad, honey,� she said. �It�s so hard being in here, not being able to do anything�� �I know,� Cordelia said. �It�s okay.� And she put her arms around her again. - - - - - - - - - - The parole hearing seemed endless, and Mrs. Chase�s attorney kept referring to Cordelia as �the child,� and implying she was helpless on her own. Under any other circumstance, Cordelia would have been annoyed, even insulted, but for now she was playing another role: Cordelia Chase, innocent victim. Parole was denied. Cordelia wished she could have been surprised. Her mother waved as she was led away, and mouthed �thank you.� Her mother�s lawyer asked if she needed anything. Cordelia said no, but thank you. - - - - - - - - - - Cordelia sat in her apartment, staring blankly at the wall. She had taken the whole week, expecting her mother would be released, and she�d wanted the time to help her find an apartment and a job, not to mention explain her life. She should call Angel, she thought. Tell him she could come back to work. But not just yet. She went into her kitchen, and in a near-trance took a pint of Ben and Jerry�s Heath Bar Crunch out of the freezer. Above the stove the light clicked on. �Hi, Dennis,� she said. �She didn�t make it.� She felt her hair pushed back from her neck, and the prickly feeling she knew was the closest her phantom roommate could come to a re-assuring hug. �Thanks,� she said softly. In the stillness of the afternoon she heard kids playing outside, and very faintly the sound of her neighbor practicing his guitar. No, she thought. I�ll call tomorrow. I�m on vacation today. Part 4 - Oz: Boy on a String Main Menu ~ Summer Vacation Series |