Eleanor Baker pursed her lips as she finished reading the article in the magazine, which featured a picture of Susanna Marlowe smiling at the camera. At 37, Eleanor Baker was still constantly mistaken for someone ten years younger, and is still on the A list on Broadway. The article described how Terry and Susanna met and fell in love, citing Susanna's accident after saving his life, which brought them closer together. But of course, Eleanor knew better, when she followed Terry during his bout in Rockton, she almost lost her mind when she saw her son spiraling down his alcohol route. It was a miracle that Candy was there, a miracle that she was able to being him back to sobriety, that he went back to Broadway again. When Terry came back to New York, she initially believed he would break off with Susanna and go back to Candy, but apparently, he was too much of his father's son. A soft knock on her door sounded, she looked at her watch and wondered who it was, for it was too late in the evening for her understudy to stop by. "Mom?" Terry's voice sounded from outside.
"Terry! Why didn't you use your key? Come in" she admonished as she opened the door; the young man had never visited her this late before. He nodded and sauntered in, carrying a sheaf of papers. The similarity between mother and son was so striking, the blue eyes, the sensual lips and the way they carried themselves with innate bearing and grace.
"I'm sorry for bothering you this late, mom, but I have news, and couldn't wait till morning" he said. His mother closed the door and went to the kitchen to get something for him to drink. "Let me guess, it's good news, you broke up with Susanna?" she asked, her voice muffled by the screen.
"Mother!"
"Terry, you can't blame me for wanting what's best for you, you've been with her for three years, don't keep on giving her false hopes, it's not fair, everyone's expecting you to make an announcement of your wedding, are you going to do that soon? Have you even asked her to marry you?" she came out holding a tea tray with a pot and two cups on it.
The young man bit his lip and looked away. "Mom, I don't want to talk about it, if you're going to lecture me, I'm going."
She frowned and let it go. Her son could be so stubborn that sometimes she'd like to get a frying pan and knock some sense into his head! "Tea?" she asked instead. He nodded and she poured him a cup; he handed her the papers he was holding. "What's this?" she asked.
"From Father, that one's the instructions for the lawyers, and this is his letter. Please read it for me."
"Your father got in touch with you?"
He sat down on the couch and saw the magazine his mother was reading earlier opened on the page featuring Susanna. Despite the latter's absence from the theatre circuit, she was still good copy for the magazines. He skimmed the article quickly and sighed; feeling the walls around him starting to close in.
"So he gave you a lot of money, eh? Did you read your father's letter?" his mother asked him after reading the documents and letter, seemingly pale. He nodded. "What are you going to do?" she continued.
"There's nothing much I can do, he's already on his way by now, I guess I'll see him before Christmas." a nice confrontation with his father, just the thing for the holidays.