She made the first call the day after Stan's party. She didn't know who else to call, she had been truthful when she told Marshall that he was her only friend. In the end, she had broken down and called her, knowing that despite how much they rubbed each other the wrong way, she would have good advice for her. She always had, from the first time she had shoved aspirin and water at her.

"Hello, you've reached Eleanor's voicemail. I'm not available at the moment, so just leave me a message and I'll get back to you soon."

That sounded too perky for Mary, even though she knew it was yards better than her own message. "Hey, this is Mare. Um, I need someone to talk to, and you were the first person that popped into my head. Crazy, huh? Well, anyway, my number is 555-6821. Hope to hear from you soon!"

The forced cheerfulness grated at her. She should have been able to say what she wanted, but even here, separated from someone she had barely tolerated, she was lying to herself and everyone around her. Sighing, she threw the phone down on the bed next to her and tried to calm down her racing heart.

"Why did you reach out to her, of all people, Mary Shannon? You really are a fucking fool," she muttered, turning on her side and burying her face in her pillow. Long minutes passed and then her phone was ringing. Blindly, she reached out for it and brought it to her ear. "Yeah?"

"Mary? Is everything okay?"

The words were cautious, wary, and she didn't blame Eleanor for wondering why she had reached out. "I don't know." It was a truthful answer, and yet she heard the woman sigh on the other end of the phone. "What?"

"There she is," Eleanor replied drolly. "I was wondering how long it would take before the prickly part of your personality showed up. Look, it's my lunch hour right now. Is there something I can do for you, or can I get back to eating?"

"Marshall's getting married," she said in a rush, knowing she wouldn't be able to say it again, even if asked.

"Oh." The small sound disconcerted her and she shivered before burrowing further into her mattress. "Oh, Mary, I'm so sorry. I always thought you were in love with each other. What happened?"

The one thing Mary had not expected was the tender concern quite evident in the woman's voice. It was enough to bring the tears she hadn't let fall previously come to the forefront, even as she loathed herself for being a sentimental sap. "Abigail happened. She gets him, gets his stupid references, everything. And I can't be friends with him, since we're too close of friends. She's jealous of that. I'm so alone."

"You're not alone, Mary. You have your family."

"And a daughter. Did you know that? My ex-husband knocked me up, almost lost her when she decided to make a dramatic entrance into the world. She's a lot like my sister, unfortunately."

Eleanor laughed a little. "Good. That will keep you on your toes. Is that why you called, though? Because you feel like you have no one there to talk to?"

"Maybe. Would it upset you if that were the truth?"

"Surprisingly, no. Now, I want you to go hug your daughter close, tell her you love her and try to find someone there who can keep you balanced. I pity the person taking over Stan's position when you do not have a Marshall to keep you in line."

"Whatever," Mary said, rolling her eyes.

"I heard that eye roll, Mare." It was the first time she had ever heard her nickname come from Eleanor's mouth, and she smiled softly. "And I know I am going to regret this, but whenever you need a sounding board, a sane, rational, person to talk to, feel free to call me. I don't mind."

She paused a moment before speaking once more. "I don't want to impose."

"It wouldn't be an imposition. I promise." There was something so earnest, so sweet about her words and Mary felt a great weight lift from her heart, something that she had never known she was carrying around. "And let me know about your daughter…"

"Norah," she interrupted, a gentle smile spreading across her lips.

"Let me know how Norah is doing. And Stan."

A wistful note crept into her voice, and Mary felt a barb of guilt strike her heart. "Stan, well, he's going to D.C. with his girlfriend. He didn't call and let you know?"

The sharp breath that Eleanor drew in was enough to tell Mary that he had not bothered to inform the woman who he had taken to his bed that he had a new girlfriend, that he was going to be living in her own backyard in a few weeks. "Oh."

"I'm sorry," she blurted out, hating to apologize for something she wasn't even responsible for, yet for some strange reason wanting to comfort Eleanor. "I'm sorry. I thought he would have told you. Maybe I am just a hateful person."

Tears burnt her eyes and she flopped onto her back to stare at the ceiling. "Don't cry, Mare. If Marshall loved you, even a tiny little bit, there must be something loving and lovely about you. Never forget that."

Mary went to respond when her bedroom door opened. Sitting up a little, she saw her sister standing there, Norah in her arms. "Hey, Squish, just give me one second." Brandi nodded and stepped back a little. "I have to go Eleanor. Norah's hungry. Thanks for listening to me."

"No problem, Mary. Have a wonderful day."

Eleanor hung up before she could reply in kind and Mary set aside her phone, holding out her arms for her daughter. "Was she crying?"

"No, she woke up with a giggle. Look, I'm going out with Peter in a few, so don't expect me back any time soon."

Mary had known it was almost too good to last. There was no way that Brandi could handle pregnancy, handle the responsibility of motherhood. "All right, Squish. Love you."

"I love you, too, Mare." She held her daughter close to her chest as Brandi backed out of the room.

"Well, Norah, looks like it may just be you and me from now on. Stan's moving on and up, Marshall is marrying Abigail, and Brandi's going to start running once more. At least you can't leave me yet."

It was one thing to be maudlin, another to give in to her tears, and Mary swallowed the lump in her throat, trying to desperately regain control of the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm her. Her precious daughter stared up at her, a smile on her face, and she nodded. Pulling up her shirt, she let her child suckle.

"I really want to call Eleanor back right now, Bug. I didn't realize I was that desperate for a kind word," she whispered as she caressed her daughter's head. "Maybe she'll even be a friend to us. Wouldn't that just be the oddest fucking thing in this world?" Leaning down, she kissed her child's head, wanting, wishing, that she had her best friend to talk to.