A Penny For Your Thoughts

13. A Welcomed Surprise

Penny was granted disability leave and stayed at home during this time. Even though the leave was a necessity, I could tell that Penny was concerned about this hiatus. It wasn't about the decreased pay or the extra hours of silence, but it was the temporary nature of this solution that unsettled her. Eventually her leave would expire. What happened then? There was a possibility that she could be let go if they deemed her unfit to fulfill the responsibilities of her role.

Even in the best case scenario, if her employers were able to come up with accommodations such as assistive devices, flexible schedules, or modified work stations, Penny could be transferred to a different role. Perhaps something less interactive or fitting for her, such as administrative tasks. Penny loathed these routine and mundane roles. The best case scenario might not be that great after all.

I didn't know how to help. I wasn't a part of those conversations with her employer, and even if I was invited, I didn't have the time to attend. Our workloads at Armstrong & Lynch were picking up once again, and a strict holiday blackout period was observed. My great relationship with the managing partners wasn't going to make me an exception. It was quite the contrary, in fact. My notable seniority and involvement in the company meant I was expected to maintain an exemplary attendance record. I had to be a role model for the other staff members.

It wasn't like I could claim disability leave or any sort of family leave. Although Penny was near and dear to my heart, she wasn't my spouse. There weren't any legal ties that bound us together. As such, there was nothing I could do but continue to tend to my duties at the firm.

My body might be at Armstrong & Lynch, but my mind was still somewhere at home. I couldn't help but worry about Penny. Leaving someone with vision loss by themselves — especially one still adapting to her conditions — was a dangerous proposition to me. Many accidents could happen. It was difficult for my mind to not assume the worst.

"Can I come in?" A feminine voice asked shortly after knocking on my door.

"Come on in."

Marilyn pushed the door open and walked in. Her cheery smile was matched by her blonde ponytail which whipped one way and then another with every stride. There was an exuberance about her that was welcoming, and frankly, much needed during these trying times.

"How's it going, Marilyn?" I asked as she took a seat.

"I'm good! How are things with you?"

"I'm fine, thanks."

Marilyn raised her eyebrow as the side of her lips quirked up. Her large, almost puppy-like blue eyes scanned the length of my desk and then at me. There was a playfulness in her expression that reminded me of Penny. "Are you sure?"

The question caught me by surprise. I hesitated and coughed, but managed to collect myself and deliver a composed response. "Of course. Why do you ask?"

"You seem a little . . . off. You're usually a pretty steady presence in the office, but I noticed that you've been a little disorganized of late. Maybe I'm reading it wrong, but it seems like you're going through some things. I just felt like I should ask and see if you need any help."

The question was surprising, but Marilyn's observations were even more surprising. I didn't think Penny's accident hampered my performance at work — the audits that I completed were error-free and up to my usual standards. I masked my negative emotions by keeping a straight face in the office. For most of my co-workers, that was my norm. I didn't think anyone could tell that something was wrong, least of all Marilyn, whose reception desk was facing the other side of the building.

"I'm going through a few things at home," I admitted, "but I'll be fine. It's just a rough patch."

"Anything you want to talk about?"