A Penny For Your Thoughts

13. A Welcomed Surprise

"Not right now, no, but I appreciate you asking."

Penny's issue was admittedly a constant presence in my mind and its weight caused me a fair bit of stress. I supposed it would be beneficial to talk about it as opposed to keeping my emotions pent up inside, but I wasn't feel comfortable sharing this information with someone who had no relations to Penny, even someone as familiar to me as Marilyn. It wasn't my position to share such sensitive information about anyone. Penny would not appreciate it if I revealed her secrets to others.

Marilyn nodded and gave me an understanding smile. "That's all right. If you need anything, just know that I'm here for you. You've been such a great mentor since I started here, Dylan, and I want to return the favor any way I can."

"You don't have to thank me. You've been a great asset to Armstrong & Lynch since day one. Our team becomes less efficient without you."

"Well, aren't you sweet?" Marilyn stood up, dusted off her black skirt, and gestured towards the door. "I'm going to make myself a cup of coffee. Would you like a cup?"

"Yes, please. Black will do. Thank you."

"I'll be right back."

Marilyn went to the pantry to make coffee, leaving me to digest her words in my office. It was clear that I couldn't contain my concerns, despite my best efforts to conceal them. If others could see my struggles, when I was someone who was generally even-keeled and relatively unscathed by the injury, I could only imagine how much frustration Penny was experiencing. I might have even underestimated the extent of her emotional damage.

I decided that I was going to do something special for Penny after work. We spent far too much time dwelling on the negative impacts of her injury. As a result, an air of pessimism lingered around the house. Interactions, including regular conversations, were declining in frequency. An injection of cheer and happiness was long overdue.

I made a few calls on my break to set up the surprise. There was nothing elaborate or extravagant about my plan, but I knew Penny valued the thought behind the project and not its grandeur. Less was more.

The hands on the clock in my office continued to tick. There were several files that demanded my attention for the next few hours. Several calculations, reviews, and client calls took up the rest of my afternoon. It wasn't the busiest of days in the office but it was a productive one.

It was a rare occasion, but I felt relieved when it was time to go home. I was looking forward to seeing Penny. Our evenings had taken a mundane twist in recent weeks. Penny, troubled by her injury, became reticent and withdrawn. I was all too willing to accommodate, out of fear that I would upset her with the wrong words. As a result, a gap in communication had occurred and the gulf was growing bigger with each passing day. Tonight was a chance to correct that course.

A few detours emerged on my usual drive home after work. I stopped at one of Penny's favorite Italian restaurants and picked up one of their meal kits. There was bound to be great excitement on her face when she recognized the flavors, and I looked forward to the shock that followed when she learned about my involvement. Culinary expertise was not part of my skill set so this was going to be a fun surprise. A little novelty was good for the soul.

Two more items rounded out my shopping list: wine and fresh flowers. Losing her sense of vision shouldn't create a void in Penny's daily interactions. I was keen to fill that gap with other sensory experiences. She might not be able to see the bottle of Riesling or the bouquet of gardenias on the table, but she would be able to smell the fragrant aromas of the two.

I went straight to work as soon as I returned home with my haul. The bouquet went into a vase that I had owned since moving in years ago but rarely used. The wine went into the fridge to maintain a cool optimum temperature. I made a quick trip to my bedroom to change into something more comfortable, and then it was time to prepare the meal.