A/N: Slight revisions made in January 2012.
What a brilliant New Year's this is turning out to be.
Mum's back home, but she's still not feeling right. And while I'm happy to have her back, I'm still on edge about it. I'm not exactly qualified to save her should she take a turn for the worse.
I've distracted myself with calls and emails to Ellie – and Anna – every single day. My father is usually somewhere, hovering in the background, so I keep the focus on them instead of me. No need for him to know anything more than he already does.
As I type another email to Anna, I think of how I'm oddly following in my father's footsteps. Though I wouldn't admit it to anyone, I'm subconsciously trying to start a relationship with one girl while I have a relationship with another.
I'm trying to get my way without getting anything at all.
Of course, this wouldn't have happened if that whole Sideburns thing worked out. But, naturally, he was the complete wanker I expected.
He's been sleeping with Anna's best friend for a month or so, and no one bothered to tell Anna until she got back home. I feel terrible about it all, mainly because I know how hard Anna is on herself that she's not yet – well, you know.
Sigh.
It's so frustrating. I wish there were something I could do but, of course, I can't. Not without turning into my father, at least. It's enough that, when I look at him, I see myself in 25, 30 years. I mean, it's not like he ever listened to his parents when it came to matters of the heart. And yet here I've been, following his directives, all because of the money he holds over mum and me.
It's the one time I wish I weren't like my mum. She never thinks of herself or what she wants – she just follows my father's orders. I don't know how she does it.
As the day progresses, I'm surprised to see no e-mails from Anna. I try her mobile, but it goes directly to voicemail. Fuck. Why can't I just leave well enough alone?
I turn on the telly and start watching the annual James Bond marathon, calling Anna every hour on the hour. It's not like she'll see all the calls anyway if her phone's off. Right?
By the tenth attempt, though, I've given up. This is not how I wanted to spend New Years. At least my father's going back to Paris tomorrow. That's probably the only thing going my way.
I check my e-mail again to see if Anna's sent anything. Nope.
Think, Etienne, think. Let's see, Anna's mum is a researcher. Something with animals, I think. She's got to be connected to some university there in Georgia.
Brilliant. I start plugging in the information in Google and find her mother's faculty page. Her name's Elizabeth, Dr. Elizabeth.
Oh God, I need to stop watching this marathon.
I go to the Atlanta white pages online and search under her mum's name. Turns out there's only one – Dr. Elizabeth Oliphant, (404) 555-3029.
I consider whether I should actually call now. Will Anna think I've gone completely mad? I go to browser preferences and delete everything. I want no evidence of my desperation.
I ring her up despite myself. We ring in the New Year on the East Coast and West Coast with her. By 1 am my time, we've turned away from another terribly Seacrest New Year and returned to the Bond marathon.
"I love what they did with Casino Royale," she says. "It totally reinvigorated the franchise. Daniel Craig is amazing."
"You find him attractive?" I ask.
"Maybe I do," she says, laughing. "But you can't tell me you don't find what's-her-name hot."
"What can I say," I respond. "I've always liked girls with dark brown hair."
"She's certainly better than Denise Richards," she says, ignoring my last comment. "And more realistic, too. I mean, I don't think anyone was convinced she was a nuclear scientist."
"I'm still not convinced she's even an actress," I say, laughing.
We joke and laugh and talk some more until Anna's voice and responses start to slow down. I suspect she's falling asleep but fighting it somehow. We've been on the phone for 6 hours. Christ.
"Anna?" I ask.
No response.
"Ahhh-nuh," I say.
"Hmmm, what?" she says.
"Were you sleeping there?"
"Just resting my eyes," she says.
"You're such a terrible liar," I say, laughing. "It is practically morning there. We should probably hang up."
"Oh my God!" she says. "I had no idea it was so late, I mean, early!"
Anna's voice sounds deeper, sultrier from her tired state. I hear her breathing get deeper, like she's drifting off again. I'm mesmerized. Neither of us says anything for minutes.
"Anna," I finally say.
"St. Clair," she whispers.
"Get some rest, all right?"
"Thanks for staying up with me tonight," she says. "It was really sweet of you to call."
"The pleasure was all mine," I say. "Happy new year."
"Happy, happy…"
Her phone clicks off and I soon fall asleep on the couch, thinking only of happy, happy Anna.