December 13, 2009

Spinning around the doorframe in a way she considered rather artistic, personally, Robin grabbed her cell phone off the sofa on the third ring or so. "Robin Donnell speaking."

"My, my, don't we sound professional? You getting calls from CEOs now, Robin?"

The guy on the other end couldn't see her, Robin reminded herself, and sticking her tongue out at the phone would therefore have little effect. "Hi, Steve. You know, it's been three years since I graduated from college. I *do* have a job and everything."

"Yeah. You're the Lost Ghostbuster. Grandma's happily putting that in all her Christmas cards, you bet."

She dropped onto the couch, stretching her legs out and getting comfortable. "When you start earning a paycheck, you can talk, kid. Did you just call me to give our parents a phone bill to pay, or is there some higher purpose behind all this?"

"If I call you, they won't get on my case so much about not calling *them*."

This was probably true. Robin grinned. "Any blood relative, huh? And I'm the least likely to, say, remind you that it's not too late to switch to a practical major."

"Or tell me you won't be able to face your friends if I start doing musicals. Which," Steve added quickly, "I haven't. I'm not that kind of guy."

"To be applicable," Robin said, "Methinks?"

"Shut up. Now. And let me tell you all about how Leila's doing, because Mom would kill me if I didn't pass along the news."

Having one such colossal success in the family, Robin thought, should be enough for everyone. "There's news? I take it the banking thing's going well."

"Better than well. She got a raise."

This was a good thing. Undoubtedly. But? "She's only been working there a year. She's only been out of college for a year."

"What can I say? She learns fast. It's a good thing she'll buy nice Christmas presents, anyhow."

Robin laughed, and nodded, "I'm happy for her. Really. I wish Mom would shut up and enjoy it, but I'm happy."

"She just moved in with someone, too. An ex-ec-u-tive. Dad wants to know?"

Rolling her eyes would be a bad idea. "If I've met any interesting men. Sure. Plenty." There was really no other way to describe, for instance, a hundred and some year old mage who wanted her to cooperate in unifying everyone in the area. Or, come to that, the guy she'd talked to in the alley who'd claimed to be a vampire and had told a story and exhibited powers that at least seemed to back him up. "None in the sense she means, though." Well, there had been one who'd seemed oddly appealing for a few minutes, possibly just because he was offering food, but then the car had blown up and he'd done the bat out of hell imitation. Besides which, the whole incident wasn't one she wanted her family to hear about. "You?"

"Despite the impression people back home have of actors, Robin, I'm still not gay."

"Okay, girls. How go things in the world of higher education?" So she got to hear about the parties, and the girls generally cut off by coughing fits when Steve remembered that he was talking to his sister and actually managed to pry details about his classes out of the boy. He went to classes. A pleasant surprise.

Winding up, he asked, "Are you still coming down for Christmas?"

"Would I be able to escape the wrath of various family members if I didn't? Of course. I'll even bring you T-shirts from New Hampshire."

He laughed, and the conversation drew to a close. Hitting the end button, Robin stood up and went back to laundry, mentally thinking through the upcoming vacation. Things not to tell anyone about: car bombs, whatever that killing Vinoba had mentioned turned out to be, anything about the mill, the fact that she'd gotten a part-time job in, of all things, an occult shop. Her grandmother already hinted that she should go to church more. She made a face at the jeans she was folding. She'd thought she had to keep a lot of secrets before.