Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 118733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
Palmer made it into her apartment in time to pull her light-blocking curtains over her window and heat up her compress. By the time she crawled into bed, her stomach felt queasy, and she was on the verge of tears. As the pain throbbed, she told herself when it stopped, she would make an appointment with her doctor and ask if there was something more she could do to curb the pain. She didn’t want to admit it might be time to seek treatment, and that home remedies and homeopathy weren’t working.
TWO
Six weeks later
Palmer walked into her office, kicked her door shut with her heel, and set the heap of files in her arms onto her desk. She sat in her brown leather chair, toed her shoes off, and set her stocking feet onto the pressure point massager she’d found on QVC—guaranteed to cure headaches. She rested her head on her fingertips and added pressure to her temples and forehead and waited.
Since she’d started seeing a neurological chiropractor at the urging of her primary care doctor, she’d not had a migraine at work for a couple of weeks. Her doctor understood Palmer’s desire for homeopathic treatment, while also explaining how medicine could help her. His stance was no one needed to live in chronic, debilitating pain.
The chiropractor was a happy medium. After the initial consult, Palmer was scheduled for a spinal adjustment three times a week for the first couple of weeks, and then they’d drop down to twice a week. The appointments would gradually decrease over time. The approach to curb and eventually eliminate the headaches was to get Palmer’s nervous system back on track, and if a migraine happened in between appointments, she had pills she could take.
Blindly, Palmer reached into the top drawer and felt around for the bottle. She found it after a few seconds, and finally opened her eyes. The pressure wasn’t that bad, but she knew it would get worse if she didn’t take something. She twisted off the lid, shook out a pill somewhat larger than a Tylenol capsule, and took a drink from the bottle of water she’d placed on her desk earlier in the morning.
She spun in her chair and looked out her office window at the San Francisco cityscape. Palmer had worked hard to get an office with a view. She had put her time in as a teller, and then a loan officer, and finally the branch manager. She loved her job and the people who worked for her. She knew that if she went to a bigger bank, she’d be able to climb the corporate ladder much faster. Her heart was here, though, and she couldn’t see herself working for anyone else.
It was dreary out, having rained the night before and most of today. Until the headaches started, she’d never enjoyed the fall and winter months or the gray days that the spring rain brought. Now, she welcomed them just like she welcomed her oversize sweatshirts, a warm cup of soup, and her heated blanket. She also enjoyed the sun but was thankful she didn’t have to keep her curtains closed or her lights off.
There was a knock on her door, and she told whoever was there to come in while she quickly slipped her shoes back on. Long ago, she’d grown accustomed to wearing heels and could do so for hours on end, but as with anything constricting, it was a relief when she could take them off. Shaunie Janes stood in the doorway. “Are you okay, Palmer?”
“Yes, of course,” she replied, as she always did. It was her canned answer. She didn’t want anyone to fret over her, especially for something trivial like a headache. “Is it lunchtime?” Palmer looked at the clock on her computer and confirmed her own question. “I’ll be right out.”
Ever since becoming branch manager, she’d made it her duty to cover the lunch shift. Prior managers wouldn’t help out and often left the tellers with long lines and angry customers. Since Palmer took over, she had changed things. It was important to her that her employees and patrons have a stress-free lunch.
Palmer stood, brushed her hands down the front of her skirt, and tugged on her jacket. Appearance meant a lot to her. She wanted people to see her as put together and professional. When she came out of her office, she noticed the lobby was beginning to fill up with the lunchtime crowd.
She walked behind the long counter and greeted each of her tellers. When she came to Shaunie, she quietly told her to go to lunch once she finished with her customer and then made her way to the workstation Palmer kept available in case of emergencies. At her terminal, she logged in and called for the next customer to step forward without looking up. When she did, she saw a man who often made her heart skip a beat or two—Kent Wagner.