Jenny laughed around a mouthful of breakfast taco. "No way!" She grinned at her coworker, showing baby pictures "He's walking already?"
Jenny sighed inside as she felt the familiar pang. Thanks to Carl Smith, she'd never have kids. She'd had massive trauma and a chronic infection. To top it all off, she'd caught another infection when they'd gone in to clear out some of the scar tissue. Dr Liber had almost cried as he told her she'd never have children.
She'd cried, she thought. She'd cried so much - so long. Charlie had tried to understand, but it was clear he couldn't. Equally clear was his disappointment they'd never have children. Then, the cult, and that jerk telling her he'd cure her... if she slept with him. Ugh.
Sometimes, Jenny thought, it was a miracle she was ever happy at all. She took a savage bite of her taco. The refrigerator hummed in the corner as someone took a meal out of the microwave.
Lavon carefully studied his coworker as he put his cell phone away. Miss Jenny was stressed, and hurting. It didn't look like her depressions, either. He ran a worried hand over his shaved black head.
"So, how was your day?"
A few minutes later, Jenny laughed uproariously as she told the story again, in Spanish. "Esposo... migrana...vomito... bebe chica.... gatita...." Lavon shook his head in shock.
"He came crawling back,, and puked on you?" Jenny nodded.
Some things could only happen in her life, she concluded.
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