The Pain You Hide

Day 5

"If you'll turn--"

My pulse quickens as my ringtone fills the silent room. I'm giving my presentation, and I forgot to silence my phone.

"I'm so sorry," I say to the room. "Please, excuse me."

I try to keep my hands from shaking as I pull my phone from my purse. My heart drops; the new nurse's number is on the screen. I tell myself it's nothing and shut my phone off.

"As I was saying."

I can feel the sweat form on my palms as I speak. Thank god I memorized my pitch before hand; I can run on autopilot while I try to calm down. Everything is fine. It was just a hiccup. I can hear myself speaking faster than I should, but I can't stop. I avoid making eye contact, my eyes constantly finding the clock at the back of the room instead. One minute goes by. Five. Ten. Was this presentation always so long?

"Any questions?" Some of the tension in my body releases when those words leave my mouth. Just a little longer, and it'll be over.

Kim walks over to me as the room empties out. I don't have to look at him to know he's concerned.

"You looked like you were on the verge of a panic attack," he says.

"It's nothing," I say, focusing on gathering my things. I hope it wasn't as obvious to everyone else; I can't remember any of the words that came out of my mouth.

Someone knocks on the open door. It's Peggy, the receptionist.

"Margret," she says, "you have a message from a Ms. Muller." My stomach twists in knots. I can already taste the bile in my throat. "She says she's sorry, but she won't be able to take care of your mother anymore. Also, Mr. Jonson wants to speak with you in his office."

"Want me to wait for you?" Kim asks when Peggy walks away.

"No," I mutter. "I can handle it. You go and get lunch."

"I'm sure it's nothing bad." He tries to reassure me, but it's too late for that.

I give him a weak smile and make my way down the hall. I have an idea why Mr. Jonson would want to see me; the look on his face when my phone went off earlier said it all. I'm better than that. He certainly thought I was better than that. I knock twice, trying to find an excuse that might help me keep my job.

"Margret," he says with a smile. "You were beautiful today. Great work as always."

"Thank you, Mr. Jonson," I say. The knots in my stomach lossen. Maybe Kim really was the only one who noticed I was struggling.

"I heard recently that your mother isn't doing well?"

The knots tighten again. I had tried to avoid talking about it. I didn't want anyone to pity me or think my work would be affected. It wasn't like my mother was dead or dying; she was alive and well for the most part. I could still work. I tighten my grip on my bag. I can still work.

"She suffered a stroke not too long ago," I say.

"That's terrible," he says with a frown. "How is she doing now?"

"She's fine," I say quickly. "She has a stay at home nurse watching over her."

"And is it helping?"

"Excuse me?"

"Having the nurse? Is your mother's condition improving?"

She says she is sorry, but she won't be able to take care of your mother anymore. If she was really getting better, nurses wouldn't be walking out on me. I stare into his aged face, willing myself to say yes. My voice dies on my lips.