“Wonderful, but you know you can just take the week off. You are entitled to holidays, you know. Besides, working too hard can lead to exhaustion, and then you’ll have to take more time off. Why don’t you leave your work in Chris’s hands and just assist if he gets stuck?” Mr. Farthington suggested, smiling.
Is he testing me?
“I’ll be fine, really. I just have a bunch of medical appointments to take care of and will need to be off my feet for a few days. No biggie. I can easily do my work as well, but I appreciate what you’re saying, and yes, I should take a vacation soon. I’ll take a few weeks or something. I’ll see how busy I am,” I told him, making sure I gave him my most confident smile.
“I hope everything is alright. Let me know if there are any concerns, and we’ll help you in any way we can,” he said as he leaned forward. “I have something for you, Marilyn.” He reached into his desk and pulled out an envelope, handing it to me.
I raised my eyebrow as I took it from him. “What’s this?”
“Open it up and find out.”
I slid my finger through the paper and pulled the paper out. When I unfolded the paper, a cheque fell out. It was for ten thousand dollars. “I don’t understand?”
Mr. Farthington smiled. “It seems our client in Vegas was so happy with how you handled their case and wanted you to have this bonus.”
“Wow, that’s an impressive amount. I feel I should share it with you since you got me the client,” I told him, suddenly feeling guilty.
“No, not a chance. You did all the hard work. Besides, they did give us a bonus as well, so no worries. I have a meeting in ten minutes, so I’m going to kick you out of my office. Make sure you cash that cheque on the way home so it doesn’t get lost. Treat yourself and buy something nice. Don’t waste it on bills,” he suggested.
“I won’t. Thank you so much.” I stood up and shook his hand.
“I look forward to winning many more cases with you, Marilyn. Now, go enjoy your time off and make sure you look after your health because we need you around here.” He winked and walked me to the door. He was such a gentleman.
I went to my office and grabbed everything I would need for the week. I figured if I forgot something, Chris could always come and get it for me. I was getting excited to work from home. I would likely get more work done there anyway.
I was on my way out when Cheryl rounded the corner. She eyed me and stopped. “Going somewhere? Did you finally get that pink piece of paper?” Hatred dripped off her words, and I cringed.
“No, Cheryl. I don’t believe it’s any of your business what I’m doing or where I’m going since it’s all personal. Enjoy your weekend,” I said, giving her a sweet smile to drive the knife of kindness in further. I was always taught that the meaner they were, the nicer you were. Sometimes living by that motto was so incredibly difficult. I did hope that something awful would happen to her precious Porsche convertible. I imagined some manure being accidentally emptied into it from a nearby truck or perhaps a rainstorm when she had the top down. If only I could control the weather. But in that case, I’d have her thrown into a tornado only to fall out and have a house land on her. She was the equivalent of a wicked witch.
I went home feeling good about the coming week and was hoping to start it off with a relaxing bubble bath and some wine…crap!I can’t have alcohol.This was, by far, one of the hardest things I had to endure being pregnant. I’m no wino or anything, but a glass of wine or a beer at the end of a long day, especially on a weekend, was so rewarding. I decided to have the next best thing. Ice cream. Rocky road ice cream.
Someone knocked on my door, and I’m not sure if he knocks differently than everyone else, but I knew it was Chris.
“Marilyn? What are you doing on your feet? You’re supposed to be resting,” he said. He looked so different today. His hair usually hung over his ears loosely, but today it was slicked back. I wasn’t sure I liked it, so I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
“I’m going to finish this tub of ice cream, then I’m going to go have a bubble bath,” I told him.
“Good idea. I’ll go draw your bath for you while you fill your face,” he said. Even his voice sounded a little different than usual. Deeper. Maybe he was just having an off day.
I rinsed the ice cream container and went upstairs to gather my robe and book. I rarely let myself relax, so this seemed almost foreign to me. I looked out my bedroom window at my garden. It seriously needed weeding, and my lawn was getting overgrown. I knew I shouldn’t attempt to do those things, but they needed to be done.Crap!
I could hear Chris drawing my bath for me. This wasn’t really what I had in mind when I asked him to help me. I could draw my own bath, but it was nice having someone look after me. Especially a really handsome someone.
I was just about to get out of the tub when I heard someone start a lawn mower really close by. Must be Chris cutting his grass. I wrapped the robe around myself and went to the window. He was cutting my grass! He must have heard my thoughts. Being pregnant was amazing, minus the vomiting, although I did feel a touch guilty that he was working so hard while I was resting. I knew I needed to get off my feet, but those weeds were really bothering me. It wouldn’t hurt to do a little bit of work, would it?
I got dressed and snuck out the back and over to my flower garden. I’d only picked two weeds before Chris said, “No. Absolutely not. Go back inside and watch a movie or something.”
I stood up and gaped at him. That’s weird. His hair is back to normal again. He must have looked in a mirror and realized how ridiculous he looked.
I followed his order and went inside to watch a movie. It was rare that I watched TV, but I guess part of relaxing is doing things you don’t normally do. It took me a while to pick out a movie. I picked a classic and snuggled into the blankets and pillows.
About halfway through the movie, Chris came in and went into the powder room. About twenty minutes later, he came out. “Bathroom is clean. I’m going to go upstairs and clean the one up there, and then I’ll throw a load of laundry in.” And then he was gone.
This felt so weird. Chris came back down an hour later and started on the few dishes that were in the sink.
“I have a dishwasher, you know,” I told him.
“I know, but I find dishes get cleaner when done by hand. Also, if you don’t run the dishwasher every couple of days, it starts to smell,” he said. I had to agree with him.