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)
“I didn’t even have to ask.” The staffing situation was something Celine and Palmer had discussed numerous times, but neither had ever had the guts to bring it up to Frank. He liked to pinch his pennies when it came to the bank. He was more the “in my pocket” type of owner.
“Sometimes he gets it.” Celine took her lunch to the table and sat down. “Are you still reading this?” She pointed to the newspaper.
“Go ahead.” Palmer neglected to mention her vision kept blurring and the print was too fine for her to make out. She’d stared at the newspaper for five minutes, squinting to see the muddled print before finally giving up. The optometrist was another doctor she needed to add to the lengthy list of physicians she needed to see. She turned and faced the counter and counted the seconds on her mug of water. When it was ready, she took it out, dunked her teabag in, and carried her cup over to the table. She sat down with a heavy sigh.
“Migraine?” Celine asked, and Palmer nodded.
“It’s different,” Palmer said. “It starts and then stops. As much as I hate to say it, I wish it would just knock me out so I can get it over with.”
“The medicine isn’t helping?”
“It was. It worked for a few weeks, but now they’re back.”
“You should probably see a neurologist.”
“I have an appointment in six weeks. Until then, I have to manage the migraines on my own.”
“Six weeks?” Celine looked shocked.
Palmer nodded and sipped her tea. “I’m on the cancelation list, but the receptionist told me not to hold my breath. The appointment times are coveted. I feel like I’d win the lottery before I actually get in to see one.”
“I bet if you go to the emergency room, you’ll see one faster.”
Palmer gave Celine a sideways glance. “It’s a migraine. The staff at the ER have more important things to worry about.”
“Just saying. You look more tired than normal, and no one would fault you for going. Are you sleeping at night?”
“Surprisingly, I am. The blackout curtains help a lot.”
“Well, you need a vacation then.” Celine studied Palmer for a moment. “Come to think of it, I can’t recall you ever taking a day off, let alone a week for vacation. You’re burned out. Seriously, use the time you’ve accrued and get the hell out of town. I know a great spa up north. They’d treat you well.”
“I’ll think about it,” Palmer stated, knowing full well she would never go. It wasn’t in her nature to be adventurous. Something she wished she could change about herself.
Celine finished her lunch, and, on her way back to her office, Palmer detoured to check on the tellers, making sure they were all set until the end of the day. She had a pile of accounts to finalize and wanted to hammer them out before she went home. She rested against the counter and surveyed the lobby until her earlier stomach issues came roaring back.
Palmer rushed to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. She practiced some breathing techniques and worked to quell her uneasy stomach. It was then that she remembered she was supposed to take her pill when eating. She dabbed her skin with a paper towel and made her way back toward the front.
She stood there, watching people turn from humans to blurry blobs of nothing. She needed to get things under control, sooner rather than later. Palmer hated the way she felt, and didn’t really understand why she couldn’t kick this illness with everything she’d done.
THREE
Kent Wagner stretched and allowed the soft sounds of his alarm tone to settle over him. He spent enough time with the emergency bell waking him that he preferred something gentler for home. It took him a bit of time to find the right sound, but once he had, he basked in the calming chimes.
“Turn it off,” the voice next to him grumbled.
He rolled to his side, did as requested, and then turned toward the form buried under a pile of blankets. Kent liked his apartment to be chilly. He slept better that way. His girlfriend, Maeve, favored warmth. To her, a room needed to be seventy or higher for a good night’s sleep.
A year into their relationship, and this was one of the two things they hadn’t seen eye to eye on. The other being if they should move in together. Early on, when they couldn’t get enough of each other, Maeve had brought up cohabitation. Kent wasn’t necessarily ready at the time. When he brought it up months later, Maeve brushed it under the rug, where the topic seemed to stay. It bothered him, her change of heart. He thought they had a great relationship . . . when they were together. Lately, Maeve seemed off. Kent couldn’t pinpoint what “off” meant, though, and kept his thoughts to himself.