this point to keep up the ruse, I reach back into my desk drawer
and pull out the Kindle before she can berate me.
“You’re such a bad liar,” she says, grabbing
the thing out of my hands. Flipping it on, she verifies it’s still
in working order before turning the face back toward me and saying,
“See, I’ve even taken the liberty of downloading some of that
vampire porn for you.”
Melanie doesn’t share my love of the fantasy
fiction genre. The “vampire porn” she is referring to is nothing
more than a clever title she uses to categorize the whole genre. I
don’t actually read pornography. But I have been drawn to the
supernatural for as long as I can remember. Vampires, werewolves,
angels, and demons ... who says they don’t exist! Admittedly, to my
knowledge I’ve never seen anything supernatural, but who knows,
maybe that’s only because my human senses aren’t keen enough to
notice. Authors all over the world are regularly capitalizing on
the existence of the supernatural; maybe they’re just more
enlightened than I am.
I’m not
crazy , I remind myself. I don’t actually
run around in my spare time looking for the existence of
vampires. Well, except maybe once in
undergrad , but I was really really drunk I
remind myself.
Staring straight at Melanie for a moment, I
concede, “Alright, point taken. I’ll pick something new to
read.”
“You should really see things my way more
often,” she beams, returning my Kindle. In one final act of
defiance, I shove the thing to the farthest recesses of my desk
drawer while she isn’t looking.
“Now what brings you to see me this early in
the day?” I ask.
“My company car is in for routine
maintenance so I’m onsite today taking care of paperwork. Needless
to say I’m bored and it’s lunch time.” Melanie never was one for
office work; sitting still for more than an hour at a time
physically pains her.
“I’ve already eaten,” I lie.
“That can of soda doesn’t count. Come on,
Gwen, please, let’s go get some real food,” she pleads, bobbing her
head up and down in enthusiasm. “I’m dying in my office,” she adds,
fainting into the chair opposite me for dramatic effect.
“Oh, alright,” I agree, starting to pick up
on her energy and good humor. It’s hard not to be in a good mood
when Melanie is around. Her battery never runs down and her
perpetually joyous spirit is infectious. Leaving my lab coat on my
chair and snagging my purse, I follow her out the door
* * *
Sneaking back into the command center
fifteen minutes or so past our agreed upon deadline, I silently
take my seat. Joe is at the board with Charlie immersed in quiet
conversation. Glancing around I notice we are still waiting for
several key team members to come back from lunch, and I breathe a
sigh of relief. I’m not a rule breaker by nature and being late
physically pains me. Stowing my purse under the table, I smile,
reflecting on lunch and how time with Melanie is great therapy and
just what I needed. In firm possession of a satisfied stomach and a
positive outlook, I grab my pen and head for the board.
“Hey, Gwen, listen to this,” Charlie says,
immediately pulling me into the conversation. Taking the lead, Joe
begins to go back over the inspiration I assume Charlie and he have
just been discussing. Ten minutes into his spiel, I lean back
against the conference table, relieving some of the pressure on my
feet so I can think.
“It makes sense, but I feel like there’s
something missing between steps eleven and twelve,” Joe speculates.
After a brief span of reflection from the three of us, I stand up
and reach for the dry erase marker. Handing it over, Joe steps back
as I approach the board to make a few notations.
Rereading what I’ve done, I erase the second
line and revise it slightly.
“So if we wait and introduce the stabilizing
agent after step three instead of before the drying agent in step
five, yeah, I think that’ll work. Great
and pull out the Kindle before she can berate me.
“You’re such a bad liar,” she says, grabbing
the thing out of my hands. Flipping it on, she verifies it’s still
in working order before turning the face back toward me and saying,
“See, I’ve even taken the liberty of downloading some of that
vampire porn for you.”
Melanie doesn’t share my love of the fantasy
fiction genre. The “vampire porn” she is referring to is nothing
more than a clever title she uses to categorize the whole genre. I
don’t actually read pornography. But I have been drawn to the
supernatural for as long as I can remember. Vampires, werewolves,
angels, and demons ... who says they don’t exist! Admittedly, to my
knowledge I’ve never seen anything supernatural, but who knows,
maybe that’s only because my human senses aren’t keen enough to
notice. Authors all over the world are regularly capitalizing on
the existence of the supernatural; maybe they’re just more
enlightened than I am.
I’m not
crazy , I remind myself. I don’t actually
run around in my spare time looking for the existence of
vampires. Well, except maybe once in
undergrad , but I was really really drunk I
remind myself.
Staring straight at Melanie for a moment, I
concede, “Alright, point taken. I’ll pick something new to
read.”
“You should really see things my way more
often,” she beams, returning my Kindle. In one final act of
defiance, I shove the thing to the farthest recesses of my desk
drawer while she isn’t looking.
“Now what brings you to see me this early in
the day?” I ask.
“My company car is in for routine
maintenance so I’m onsite today taking care of paperwork. Needless
to say I’m bored and it’s lunch time.” Melanie never was one for
office work; sitting still for more than an hour at a time
physically pains her.
“I’ve already eaten,” I lie.
“That can of soda doesn’t count. Come on,
Gwen, please, let’s go get some real food,” she pleads, bobbing her
head up and down in enthusiasm. “I’m dying in my office,” she adds,
fainting into the chair opposite me for dramatic effect.
“Oh, alright,” I agree, starting to pick up
on her energy and good humor. It’s hard not to be in a good mood
when Melanie is around. Her battery never runs down and her
perpetually joyous spirit is infectious. Leaving my lab coat on my
chair and snagging my purse, I follow her out the door
* * *
Sneaking back into the command center
fifteen minutes or so past our agreed upon deadline, I silently
take my seat. Joe is at the board with Charlie immersed in quiet
conversation. Glancing around I notice we are still waiting for
several key team members to come back from lunch, and I breathe a
sigh of relief. I’m not a rule breaker by nature and being late
physically pains me. Stowing my purse under the table, I smile,
reflecting on lunch and how time with Melanie is great therapy and
just what I needed. In firm possession of a satisfied stomach and a
positive outlook, I grab my pen and head for the board.
“Hey, Gwen, listen to this,” Charlie says,
immediately pulling me into the conversation. Taking the lead, Joe
begins to go back over the inspiration I assume Charlie and he have
just been discussing. Ten minutes into his spiel, I lean back
against the conference table, relieving some of the pressure on my
feet so I can think.
“It makes sense, but I feel like there’s
something missing between steps eleven and twelve,” Joe speculates.
After a brief span of reflection from the three of us, I stand up
and reach for the dry erase marker. Handing it over, Joe steps back
as I approach the board to make a few notations.
Rereading what I’ve done, I erase the second
line and revise it slightly.
“So if we wait and introduce the stabilizing
agent after step three instead of before the drying agent in step
five, yeah, I think that’ll work. Great
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