Having Grace

Here is more of my book, which I hope to write more of tonight!!!!

Monday found me back in the office. There was only so much Jeopardy a person can watch. I began to question my sanity when I started to pride myself on knowing obscure trivia such as Hungarian folk hymnals. I knew that Cynthia had wanted me ‘laying low’ for two weeks, but I simply couldn’t take it any more. And I figured, with her being out the country it didn’t really much matter one way or the other.
Constance looked stricken when I walk into the office. “Oh, my God. You’re back? Already? Are you sure that’s wise?”
I gave her a queer look as I turned on my computer. “I’m feeling fine.”
“Yeah, but, are you sure you’re not contagious anymore?”
“Contagious?” I asked, perplexed.
“Yeah. Cynthia said you had the Avian Flu. That’s bad isn’t it?” she asked, looking distinctly uncomfortable being in the same room with me. She backed slowly towards the door, as though she might make a run for it.
“I do not have the Avian Flu. They just thought that I might, you know how people get paranoid about these things. Turned out it was just the regular flu,” I replied, thinking on the spot. Why, of all things, would she say that I had the Avian Flu? Couldn’t she have come up with something a little more ordinary?
She still looked skeptical.
“I don’t know. You look a little flushed.”
Flushed? I ran to the bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror. Crap. I do look flushed, I thought. There was an uncharacteristic redness in the apples of my usually pale cheeks. I splashed my face with water, but it was still there. Maybe even a tad bit worse. I sat down on the toilet. I tried to tell myself to be calm. The whole bit about pregnant people ‘glowing’ was probably just an old wives tale. In fact, when I thought about it, my sister Erin was downright pale throughout her pregnancy. Everything is OK.
I realized then that I was actually really nervous. Nervous that I would be pregnant. Nervous that I wouldn’t be. I didn’t know what to hope for. But it was too late for second thoughts. Collecting myself, I walked out of the bathroom and went back into my office.
Constance regarded me warily. “Are you OK?” she asked tentatively.
“Oh, ya. Fine,” I said absently.
She gathered her things up from her desk. “I think I’m going to work out of the staff room today,” she said, a little apologetically. “Nothing against you or anything. It’s just that Diel’s on immunosuppressants right now, so it would be a really bad time for me to come down with anything.”
“Oh, OK,” I replied, realizing that she had misinterpreted my mad dash for the bathroom. She made a quick exit, flashing me a weak smile.
Good riddance, I thought.
And don’t forget your curry.