Fuck Christmas.

She was using the last of her "use it or lose it" vacation and personal days for 2011. She'd been smart enough to use mostly sick days on the occasions where she'd had to go to Mississippi last-minute and meet with the realtor. So from December 22 through January 5, she's off.

She had stopped at the post office near the apartment in Tampa to have her mail put on hold, and had gone, without telling anybody. If she left, why's this topic in the area where people are home? Because she WENT home, duh. To the house in Mississippi, burned out from work, tired of looking at the little lonely apartment, and not about to go see her parents. Queen Botox (what she'd been referring to her mother as lately, albeit not out loud) could be overbearing, and Daddy just tried too hard sometimes. She just wanted to let her brain turn to mush, curl up on the gigantic, impossibly soft buttery leather sofa and turn the fireplace on. She called the Realtor and told her that the house was not to be shown anymore, until the second week of January.

The last interaction she'd had with Ted did not go well at all. Her interpretation of what went down was that he basically wanted to keep her around like a glorified ring rat. That's how it sounded to her. Ted had made no overture to convince her otherwise. ( http://beyondthemat.forumotion.com/t153-what-s-so-urgent )

She'd gone back to work after that as if that never happened, and had actually been extremely productive, yet another reason her vacation time wasn't questioned, because she was actually ahead of schedule. Unbeknownst to her, she was actually being considered for a promotion, due to the work she was doing. The reason the quality of her work was so good was because she had nothing else. She was using work as a shield, more or less, and had been dodging calls from friends, and family. None from Ted, though.

Fucker hadn't even said thank you for his Christmas gift. That gift probably went right over his head, unappreciated too. She came from money (*cue Ted's song lol*) but had paid for that out of her wages. The same way she lived. She certainly didn't make Superstar money, and she'd put a lot of thought into his gift. What was her gift from him? A fucking kick in the ass.

"Jerk," she muttered as was curled up, with a sock monkey print Snuggie-like blanket, (shut up, yes this writer owns one of those, because sock monkeys rock and Snuggies are underrated) and she glanced from Ralphie on the TV and looked out onto their lake. Weather sucked. 47* and raining. "Can't even snow right. It's Christmas," she grumbled.

She'd set up a little Christmas stuff for herself, the light-up wreath for the mantel and the "joke" tree, the little
musical Peanuts Christmas tree that they'd chuckled over in the store and impulsively bought, their first Christmas. That was more than enough, since it was just her here, her and her thoughts.

Well, alright, maybe he had tried too hard. But this was his daughter, who he loved and worried about, and her stock answers of everything being fine weren't sitting right with him.

He'd asked Miranda if her husband would be up to playing a round of golf with him the day after Christmas. From what Wes could find out online, since it's not like his daughter and son-in-law socialize with him, Ted did from time to time play golf. Miranda had politely declined, saying "they" were going away for Christmas.

But if "they" were going away, how come he could've sworn he just pulled up beside his son-in-law at a red light in downtown Tampa?

Wes glanced over, removing his sunglasses as he did so, so his contact lenses weren't impeded by the dark lenses. The light changed before he could know for sure, and it's not like he's going to follow that car and stalk the person who very well might not even be Ted DiBiase.
But how, then, were they "away"? It was a question that played in his mind awhile, before he decided that, for right now, he had to let it rest.

(this might be the one instance where Daddy's girl would've said "follow that car. Kick his ass." hehehe)

Miranda DiBiase wrote:

She had stopped at the post office near the apartment in Tampa to have her mail put on hold, and had gone, without telling anybody. If she left, why's this topic in the area where people are home? Because she WENT home, duh. To the house in Mississippi, burned out from work, tired of looking at the little lonely apartment, and not about to go see her parents. Queen Botox (what she'd been referring to her mother as lately, albeit not out loud) could be overbearing, and Daddy just tried too hard sometimes.

This is a case of Miss (or Mrs.) Someone Had A Little Too Much Eggnog, isn't it? "Queen Botox" hadn't been said out loud until about five minutes ago. She'd tried to reach Miranda most of the day to wish her and Ted a Merry Christmas, and her phonecalls went unanswered. Until just a few minutes ago. She was met with a rambling, belligerent girl; this was an opposite of drunk dialing; it was drunk answering and not always the wisest thing to do TO YOUR MOTHER.

"Just you wait until I tell your father about this" had been the best that Audrey could come up with on her feet. What was to have been a pleasant-ish call, with only a little guilt, turned into the attacker being attacked. And it's not as if Miranda hadn't asked Audrey what she wanted for Christmas; chipping in for Mommy's Botox injections would be a gift that would be used, rather than a dust collector or gift certificate to buy herself something she didn't want.

Now she was calling her ex-husband in a frenzy, to tell him what his daughter did. Just like when Miranda was five and misbehaving, she's now twenty-five and misbehaving. On Christmas of all things. Audrey hung the phone up, being sure to not frown too hard, or else that would cause the life of the last injectible filler in her face to die early.

The obligatory voicemail was left to Wes. "Do you know what your daughter said to me?" Audrey proceeded to replay the message until the phone beeped, indicating that her alloted message time ran out. She poured a glass of wine, shook her head, and went to bed early. Merry Christmas.

Wes rolled his eyes as he listened to his ex-wife go on and on and on and on. And on. He was glad she was on tape, though, rather than live. Why? Because he could delete without listening to the whole thing.

Audrey had a flair for the dramatic and would always exaggerate when it came to Miranda. Being told that she "must be a lush" is being interpreted by Wes as maybe, just maybe, Audrey had called at a bad time. Miranda and Ted might be celebrating the holiday with a few drinks, and Audrey called at a bad time. It had to be that, right?

He thought back to seeing what he thought was his son-in-law at the stop light, and idly wondered something, for a minute.

No, it's Christmas night. Nobody would be there.
He didn't have trouble finding the telephone number, though, and there was an automated system.

(203) 352-8600.

"You have reached World Wrestling Entertainment Corporate Headquarters. While it is after corporate business hours, if you know the name of the party you are trying to reach, please speak it at any time. Otherwise, please choose a directory. For a listing, press 1--", the robotic feminine voice prompted until Wes spoke.

"Ted DiBiase."

"Please hold to be connected to Ted DiBiase."

Canned music lasted about 15 seconds, and he was then put through to a voicemail. Another robotic voice, this one a male, began. "You have reached the voice mailbox of" there was a momentary pause, and then Ted's voice speaking his own name. "Ted DiBiase." The robot spoke again: "Please leave your name and telephone number and this party will return your call as soon as possible."

So, Wes did.

His tone was congenial but might show a bit of concern.

"Hi, Ted. It's Wes, Wes Taylor...Miranda's father. Just calling to say Merry Christmas to you kids. Uh..Ted, you know your mother-in-law can be a bit...uh...dramatic..at times," Wes said, with a pause. Anyone who's spent 5 minutes in Audrey's company knew this to be true, "..and she's calling me saying Miranda got a bit...hostile with her. Miranda says you two are away for the holiday. Could you, if you get a moment, just call me back, or ask Miranda to call me back, just to let me know everything's alright? I'd really appreciate it. Merry Christmas."

She's not an eggnog drinker this year. The convenience store was sold out of it. It was brandy. Brandy by the fire. Bite me.

She just hadn't been up to taking that phonecall. She'd earned this vacation time, dammit, and having Audrey call all day until Miranda finally picked up, well....................to be honest, Miranda didn't even *know* what she'd said. She wasn't completely drunk. She was, umm...mildly shitfaced. They had a good liquor cabinet here and it was Christmas. Should she not indulge? It's not like she had Christmas dinner. Or lunch. Fine. She's drinking on an empty stomach, but she's just not hungry. Her appetite was back in Tampa somewhere. She earned the right to wallow in a little self-pity on Christmas.

She would be cringing, though, and turning all shades of red, if she knew her father called Ted's corporate voicemail, which feeds to his private cellphone. There's a system in place in Stamford which weeds out what we'll consider "Trollcalls" from the calls that might be of merit; the giant database that IT put together has recognized phone numbers. If it's in someone's personnel file, it's considered a legitimate phonecall. Since Miranda has her father listed as an emergency contact, the system acknowledged Wes's number as legit and forwarded the message. Which meant Ted would be getting it and the Caller ID would read WWE which means those calls don't get ignored. But she doesn't know that at the moment, and with the way things are going between her and Ted, she might never know. Fine.

Fuck it. She fell asleep, dozing on and off, as she was watching the tail end of Ralphie on TBS.

Okay. What the hell happened...

When they bought this house, a lot of care was given to the master bedroom window treatments. Top of the line room darkener curtains were installed, so Ted could sleep on his days off. But they don't work if they're not closed all the way, which is why the light just woke her up.

The hangover wasn't terrible, but it was one that had her not minding lingering in bed, cuddled up with Ted..

WAIT, WHAT? Her eyes opened painfully wide. Yes. The blankets were tangled, the telltale sheets being half off the bed showed that a Ted not mentioned in the earlier NSFW mentions of how many Ted Ted is, appeared. In-a-hurry-yet-venting-frustations-Ted.

That wasn't a bad Ted at all, she mused, even though she could use a handful of Tylenol and a bottle of water.

But, WAIT. WHAT?

She was piecing the night back together in her head. She *had* been alone. She knew that much. Sock monkey Snuggie and brandy and Ralphie's Christmas. By herself. Sulking.

Then Ted showed up with Randy's son. Said something about a festival. And a puppy.

Now, why would Ted be buying Travis a puppy? And she remembered him yelling "No puppy for you!" when Travis acted up. That either meant that the puppy was being withheld, which was a dick move, lol, or maybe the puppy was used as an incentive. An incentive for what?

She chuckled softly, even though that action made her head pound a little harder. She remembered Ted mentioning that her father had called him. Doesn't remember if there was any more discussion on that, but she had apologized. She hadn't told anyone where she was, though.

While this town has lots of festivals, festivals that they used to go to when they had the time, she couldn't think of any at the moment. None, anyway, that would require pulling the child from Disney. And it's not like Ted randomly borrows people's children like that.

He'd wanted Travis here as a..buffer of sorts, maybe. Just in case she hadn't expected him, in case she got angry. She had gotten angry, but not because he'd shown up. The anger was leftover from their last meeting.

Coming in at the late hour he had found her a little tipsy. The memories of last night were becoming a little clearer, and when she shifted to snuggle in, pain shot through her. Oh, that bastard. NOW she remembered. He PUNCHED her in the ass. TWICE! In the kitchen! If memory serves, he did get bitten though, so maybe they were a little even.

But something he'd said earlier, when they'd first had words, in the kitchen, was something she hadn't initially picked up on. He'd said about wanting to try and come back, "singular."

Maybe he was ready to give up the ring rats, or at least willing to try to.
Why else would he risk Randy's wrath, basically stealing his kid? Damn.

Her body ached. That version of Ted and the intoxicated version of herself had done some damage last night. Ted only had half of one drink, if she remembered right. Which meant that, with the quiet house, not sure if Randy and Travis were still here or not, that if she slipped under the covers, her head disapearing under them, and woke Ted up in a very NSFW way, he wouldn't have..um...'trouble' responding to what she slipped out of sight to do to him. What man doesn't want to be woken up like this? Consider it taking care of a couple of things, dear. She can't very well talk with her mouth full, and yet she's saying something at the same time.

Basically, she's not a Lorena Bobbitt fan...you're not in danger...and obviously you wouldn't be getting woken up like this if your presence wasn't welcome or wanted. And even though your road schedule's resuming and she's on vacation, the realtor won't be showing the house until the second week of January. Might want to think about spending days off here, if you're receptive to that idea. She wouldn't mind. She wouldn't mind at all.

Of course Wes wasn't going to side with her when it came to anything Miranda. Of course it was "always" Audrey overreacting ( /sarcasm.) Audrey had placed phonecalls to Miranda's friends that she still had contact with, which were all of two people. Many had changed their phone numbers over the years.

There was Ashley Bingham, who seemed shocked to get a call from Audrey. When told that Ashley hasn't seen Miranda since Junior year of high school, Audrey terminated the phonecall without any further ado.

Then there was Heather Larsen, who was one of Miranda's college roommates who Miranda did keep in touch with, from time to time. This, Audrey knew because she remembered seeing a Christmas card on Miranda's table a couple of years ago signed Heather Larsen.

Heather engaged Miranda for all of about fifteen minutes on the phone, and just like the rest of Miranda's friends outside of her job, "everything's great as far as I know. She and Ted travel a lot, Ms. Tate."

So, if nothing else, her daughter maintained the same story with everyone, but that didn't explain the unwarranted verbal attack from Miranda. Wes hadn't called back. Had he reached Ted? She didn't know. What she did know is that cellphones were most horrible at letting someone know where a call came from. Not many people had landlines anymore; Miranda could call from right next door but her cellphone would indicate a Mississippi area code (she knows Miranda stays in Florida but hadn't bothered changing the number when she moved first to CT, now to FL.)

Audrey *did* have one more number to call, though, but she'd hold off for a little longer. She did have the number to Miranda and Ted's neighbor's house, the same way that Miranda had the phone number of Audrey's neighbor, as an in case of emergency. If she has to call a veritable stranger and have that person go see if Miranda's somehow at that house, since Audrey has no one to call in Florida, so help her, she will.

But for now, she's going back to bed. Thank Ambien and your father that she's not taking this any further at the moment, young lady.