"Um," I mentally shuffled through the roster. "I don't think anyone has that week off. I'm sure it'll be fine. Just submit it, and I'll make it official."
Her breath whooshed out. "Thanks."
"You and Justin going away?"
She shook her head as a pink bloom climbed her cheeks. "We're starting IFV."
"Oh!" Thank God I kept my mouth shut about her being pregnant. "Really? That's great, right?" I remembered her mentioning that they were saving for the procedure, so I was thrilled they could finally start that journey.
"Yes. And no." She leaned her butt on the receptionist's desk and folded her arms. "The last time I went on it, it wiped me out. The injections...they were a lot."
I frowned as I regarded her pretty face, marred in worry. "I didn't know you two tried it before."
"The beginning of last year. I didn't want to tell anyone in case it didn't work, and well...it didn't."
"Ah, shit. I'm sorry, Lins." Compassion bloomed in my chest for her. Even though I didn't want kids, I felt for Linda and Justin—two people I genuinely liked. Linda would make a kick-ass mom, so the fact that they were struggling to achieve that dream really sucked.
She shrugged and scratched her nose. "We've been saving up again, and Justin's mom gave us a loan for part of it. Th-this is our last shot. Not just because the cost is so high, but it wrecked me the last time." She shook her head. "If it's negative again, I just couldn't put myself through it a third time."
"Linda. I'm so sorry."
I didn't know what else to say, so I crossed over and engulfed her in my arms. She instantly leaned her head on my shoulder and sniffled. The discomfort and awkwardness I usually felt at human sympathy never materialized.
The few times I comforted Lissa were when she was upset after failing to worm her way back into Barron's life. Even then, I only managed a stilted pat on the shoulder before suggesting a night out drinking.
But this was different. This friendship felt different. I genuinely cared about Linda, and I hated to see her upset.
"Is that why you're not drinking? Is it not allowed?"
"It's not encouraged, yeah, but mainly while you're doing the injections. But I'm staying sober and eating healthy, drinking herbal tea, et cetera, to give myself the best chance to conceive. I just...I just want this so bad. We both do."
"I know. I want this for you both, too." I didn't want to give her flowery words about good things happening if you wanted them hard enough. Unfortunately, life didn't work that way. I knew firsthand no matter how hard you wanted something, no matter how good you were; or how many falling stars you wished on, it didn't mean you would get it.
Linda sniffled again, and I squeezed her shoulder. I railed again about how unfair it was that people who didn't deserve to be parents just breathed and fell pregnant; while others like Linda—good folks—struggled.
"I know there are other options. I'm open to adopting and we've started looking into it. But I don't know...I just always had this desire to carry a child—our child."
"Well, you know what? However it happens, I have no doubt that you and Justin will be parents. The best ones, too. Seriously."
A twist of sadness hit me when I recalled all the times I wished my mom would turn me over to the state for adoption. I envisioned some sort ofAnnie The Musicalsituation taking over, and I'd have my own Daddy Warbucks. But even a couple like Linda and Justin would've been a dream for little me.
Linda gave me another squeeze before she grabbed a few tissues from the box we kept on the receptionist's desk. "Thanks, hun. God, I didn't mean to blubber all over you."
I pushed aside the very weird vision of having Linda and Justin as my parents before throwing her an encouraging smile. "Don't worry about it. But seriously, send through that request so I can approve it."
Her smile was relieved and grateful. My chest warmed knowing that I successfully talked my way through an emotional episode; and made Linda feel a little bit better in the process.
She turned and started re-stacking paper that didn't need to be shuffled, but I left her to it. She probably felt self-consciousabout her little wobbly moment, but I was secretly thrilled she trusted me enough to share.
I went about double-checking that each station was clean before we left for the night. The girls were always good about keeping their workspace spotless, but I still liked to helicopter-parent.
Just as I was about to head to my office to lock up, a loud and repetitive knock suddenly rattled the front glass.
Linda and I jumped and our eyes met briefly; wild and confused, before we turned in fright to the front door. Since the blinds were down, we couldn’t see who it was. However, I could spy a pair of jean-clad legs.
Before we could react, the door jerked open, and my heart leaped. We hadn't gotten around to locking the front door yet. It was a terrible habit of mine bred by the security of small-town living. There were stores still open on a Friday night; like the coffee shop and bookstore across the road, so we always took it for granted that we were safe. Perhaps it was a silly lull to fall prey to.
"We're closed," I firmly announced, marching forward. I didn't want to show any fear, even though my heart was racing.
