Homecoming|FINISHED

[LADY CATHERINE DE BOURGH]

"Honestly, I think you're talking to the wrong person. My father has a team of people that basically organize his life. If you want to convince him to do better with his businesses, talk to his business manager and Stacy, my father's assistant. Between the two of them, he'll get on the right track eventually. They are the only two people he really listens to when it pertains anything other than a courtroom."

"Well!" Lady Catherine huffed, drumming her perfectly manicured nails irritably on the table top to vent her frustrations. "Why didn't anyone inform me of this sooner? I shall have to get ahold of this Stacy woman and this business manager of his and let them know...perhaps they will listen to what I tell them."

Seeing that Joanne had ordered another cup of tea, Lady Catherine raised an eyebrow.

"Another cup of tea, I see, Ms. Jefferson. I take it the tea is above adequate to warrant another cup. Perhaps I should break from the norm and try some myself."

So saying Her Ladyship drained the last of her cup of coffee and, having set the cup down, looked as if she was going to hail a waiter. It was lucky, at least for Joanne, that Her Ladyship's phone should go off at that point; a tinny refrain of 'Ode To Joy' heralding the arrival of a text message.

With a mutter of displeasure Her Ladyship extracted the phone from her capacious Gucci handbag and began to type out a reply, not bothering to excuse herself from the conversation with Joanne. The text being replied to she replaced the phone in her bag with yet another disgruntled 'Hmph'. Clearly Her Ladyship and her Blackberry were not on the best of terms.

"Honestly, some of the people I have to deal with on a daily basis...I feel like I'm surrounded by complete idiots who can't do a thing for themselves! Do you ever feel that way, Ms. Jefferson? Or am I the only one who has to suffer?"


(ooc: Couldn't reply without saying how much I adored that post, especially the chihuahua analogy. XD Genius.)

[madeline]

Being at the Usher House was as it always was, cold and dark. The moment she set foot on the estate, Madeline could feel any warmth of life within her take leave from her body. She had tried so hard this last visit to break her twin brother from the bars of the house, it was of no use. He wouldn't leave, Roderick couldn't leave. He tried to keep her there longer, but Madeline refused. She knew the longer she stayed the more difficult it would be to leave the separate world in which the house offered.

The five hour flight over the great Atlantic had given the young Usher plenty of time to review the visit with her brother dozens of times. He had read and edited the manuscript of her newest novel, filling every inch of space on the margins of the pages with notes and suggestions. Madeline was nervous to read what Roderick had said about her work, what if he hated every sentence? What would she do? It was almost more punishment not knowing what he had written. Each time she had a thought about the manuscript, Madeline would tell herself she would read it as soon as she was home. Unfortunately that would be even later than planned. Her flight may have arrived early, but her driver was stuck in traffic and so Madeline was stuck in the airport.

Ugh, airports. Madeline hated airports, absolutely hated them. She hated the large crowds, the security that would search her bags, the long lines in which she would have to wait in, and, most notably, the people who attempted to converse with her. She was not a people person, she did not want to talk to anyone but the ever-happy flight attendant and only then would Madeline speak to her when she desperately needed something to drink during the flight.

She had on hand holding tightly to the strap on her black leather laptop bag, and in the other hand is a book Roderick suggested she read. Which really meant, he wished to discuss or debate a subject in the novel and had no one but Madeline to speak to on the matter. She needed something to do until her driver arrived. The woman walked past a few gift shops and restaurants, she did not want to go anywhere that was too crowded. Spotting a decent-sized, cafe with only a few patrons inside, Madeline decided to stop and get a drink here.

The woman glanced up at the menu and ordered a cappuccino. Waiting on the side of the counter, the drink was prepped and given to her quickly. Madeline released her iron grip on her shoulder bag's strap and picked up her drink. As if on cue, she could feel her bag vibrating, her phone! In a juggling act of sorts, she was able to get one hand free and dig through her dark-lined bag for her cell phone. Finally feeling the familiar square shape of the phone, Madeline grabbed the phone and picked it up. "Hello?" She was met with nothing but static. Damn, looking at the service bars she saw her phone was roaming for service. Sliding her phone shut, it nearly slipped out of her hand. In a moment of quick reaction, Madeline had managed to safely put her phone back into her bag. She was unable, however, to keep the hot liquid of her caffeinated beverage from spilling onto her opposite hand which sent the book she was holding skidding across the floor. Quickly grabbing a handful of napkins, the woman wiped the liquid off of her hand and tossed the dirtied towelettes in a trash can. Next she spotted her book, which was inconveniently under a table which was occupied by two women. She walked up cautiously, "Excuse me, do you think you could.. my book, it landed under your table." She swallowed hard, why was this so difficult? "Could you? Please?" Madeline looked like a deer in headlights while waiting for one of the two to be so kind as to retrieve her novel.

[joannejefferson]

Joanne just watched as Lady Catherine spoke, not at all listening to a word she was saying. She was pretty positive it was some indignant response about not having known who to speak with sooner, or some other version of complaining about the lack of respect of her underlings. Quite honestly, Joanne was beyond the point of having any interest in what she was yammering on about. It reminded her of the teacher from Charlie Brown. All that met her ears was the sound of "wah wah wah wah wah" and maybe the occasional name.

Lucky for Joanne the Lady's cell phone buzzed and she was distracted momentarily. Fighting back the sigh of relief, Joanne turned her eyes around the room to see a woman fighting with the objects in her hand. By the looks of it, she had a cappuccino in one hand, a laptop bag in the other hand, and a phone bouncing somewhere between the two. Lady Catherine said something else, but Joanne missed it, too focused on the book that was now sliding under their table. The young woman followed it over to them and nervously asked if they could pick it up.

"Sure." Joanne said with a very bright smile. She was more than happy for the distraction. Sliding out the chair, she reached down under the table and picked up the book, dusting it off lightly and handing it back to its owner.

"I'm Joanne Jefferson." She indicated her companion. "This is Lady Catherine de Bourgh, of Rosings Park. The book looks interesting. What's it about?"

Yes, she was very grateful for the distraction and anything that would keep the subject off her father and anything political or corporate was fine by her.

[LADY CATHERINE DE BOURGH]

Lady Catherine had no idea how much her words were boring her companion and therefore kept talking. Her words had ended in a question, but it seemed that question would never be answered, at least not soon.

Another woman had approached the table, a nervous looking young woman who had inquired about a book. Of course Lady Catherine had been so busy rabbiting on she hadn't the slightest clue what the woman was talking about. She would have inquired about the circumstances in her usual blunt (read: rude) manner but Joanne answered her unsaid questions as she retrieved the woman's book from underneath the table.

"This is Lady Catherine de Bourgh, of Rosings Park. The book looks interesting. What's it about?"

Her Ladyship inclined her head in her usual regal way towards the newcomer. Of course she would have preffered to make her own introduction, but Joanne's words would have to suffice in this case.

"I must say," she interjected before the newcomer could get a word in edgeways, or even attempt to answer Joanne's question. "That it is good to see a woman your age with a book in her hand. Too often women these days are engaged in more trivial and worthless pursuits." She was being a hypocrite, but of course she wasn't to realize this. "But I have to agree with Miss Jefferson. What, pray, does this book of yours entail? I hope it is not a work of romantic fiction; in my opinion such books lack refinement and, I dare say, taste."

[madeline]

Madeline felt a breeze of relief flow over her as the woman pleasantly retrieved her book. It wasn't near as difficult as she thought it'd be. "Thank you," she said taking the novel back and holding it tightly as to not drop it again.

She smiled demurely as the put together woman introduced herself and her older friend. Even though she was not a fan of social situations, Madeline was more comfortable in them when they included the few kinder members of society. She was nearly about to reply to Ms. Jefferson's question when the Lady beat her to it.

At least Usher agreed with the woman, if more people read the world would most probably be much better off. Her next comment however... Had Lady Catherine made such a remark in front of any other romantic fiction novelist, they would certainly have some strong argument against their books supposedly lacking taste; Madeline however was not one among such strong-willed authors. "I don't think that all romantic fictions are tasteless. Perhaps the Harlequin types, but I assure you not all are filled with the intimate relations of the main characters."

Attempting to avoid the subject as she wished not to speak of the moral standing of the other books which were stacked next to her own at various book shops, Madeline looked down at the book in her hand. Her chestnut eyes studied the worn leather-bound book, the front was a dark green color with no text on either cover but on the binding it read: The Midnight Bell. Madeline was not so much a fan of gothic or horror fiction as it scared her. She often wondered if Roderick asked her to read such material in hopes that the horrors from the terrible tales would make her afraid to live her life in the world outside their family home. Strangely, it had failed to work completely. "It's a gothic novel, my brother suggested it to me. I've only just begun it, so I cannot tell you if it is worth reading."

[joannejefferson]

To say that Joanne was getting irritated with this boorish Lady Catherine character. The conversation was about as meaningless as it was long and there was nothing more that she wanted than to escape it. Of course, this newcomer was proving to be interesting. She apparently liked to read and wasn't nearly as self-centered as this associate of her father's.

The two went on chatting about books for a while and Lady Catherine once again said something that threatened to pull a sarcastic retort from Joanne's lips. Luckily, before she could answer either of them, her cell phone rang.

"Pardon me a moment, ladies." She said with a smile and pulled the phone from her pocket to answer it.

"Dad! Yes I beeped you...I'm sitting in the airport now...No, I haven't called home yet...I'm positive she's not there right now...Seriously?! Dad, no..." Here came a very angry sigh and a vicious roll of her eyes.

"Dad... Dad... Joseph Jefferson. Thank you for finally listening. Let me call Maureen...Yes Dad I have to tell her. I live with her for crying out loud...I'll get back to you in a while." She hung up the phone and glared at it. The conversation with her father had not gone well.

"Sorry about that. Apparently, my father needs me back in Boston, by tonight."

[LADY CATHERINE DE BOURGH]

"I don't think that all romantic fictions are tasteless. Perhaps the Harlequin types, but I assure you not all are filled with the intimate relations of the main characters. It's a gothic novel, my brother suggested it to me. I've only just begun it, so I cannot tell you if it is worth reading."

"Hmm." Lady Catherine said, one eyebrow raised in a slightly disdainful manner. "I can't say I've read many Gothic novels, but as far as I can tell they contain far too much violence-"

She would have said more but her attention was diverted from the newcomer by the conversation Joanne was having over the phone with her father. Despite the fact it was rude, Lady Catherine paid more attention to Joanne's end of the conversation rather than the young woman with the book to whom it would have been more polite to continue talking.

"Sorry about that. Apparently, my father needs me back in Boston, by tonight."

At this piece of information, Her Ladyship's other eyebrow raised as well, in an expression of surprise.

"Dear, dear," she said, with a shake of her head. "You and your father certainly are busy bees. Well, at least your work has good intentions, quite like my own in fact, now I come to think of it."

[joannejefferson]

Joanne wasn't exactly happy about the return to Boston, as she was positive the airline was going to screw it up in some fashion. It happened every single time and honestly, the lawyer was ready for a long vacation with her very sexy lover in some far away place that her father could not even find. It was the kind of place that cell phones didn't get signal and alcoholic drinks with little umbrellas in the glass were a daily requirement. A sad sigh escaped her as she gathered up her few belongings and finished off her tea.

"Well, it has been a pleasure, but I have to go find a flight out of here and pay a much too high price for the ticket." She flashed a quick, genuine smile and left the cafe, her mind going back to Boston and the details her father had reported over the phone.

As much as she hated the idea of going somewhere other than home to her bed, she was extremely grateful to her father for saving her from the incredibly boorish yippie lap dog like woman she'd just spent far too long talking to.