By Lacy

By seven o’clock all I want to do is go home, but I haven’t received that latest sit-rep from the TDH, nor the update on the vaccination process from Kaiser at the CDC. In fact, the only new information I have is that the mortality rate in Texas has decreased since the media and news blitz. Thankfully, more people are seeking medical attention for their symptoms.

Of course, the emergency rooms are packed with people who are just afraid they’ve got the disease. As far as I’m concerned — it’s better to be wrong than dead.

Donna looks tired. Her energy level all day has been almost back to normal, but evening rolled around and her energy just seeped away like the fading light of sunset.

"Go home," I order.

"Josh," she protests.

"Go," I say again. "Please don’t fight me on this. You’re tired."

"So are you."

"But I can’t leave until the reports come in."

"I can make some calls," she suggests. "I can use my threatening voice."

"God forbid," I smile. "Just go. I’ll leave as soon as I hear from Kaiser and the TDH."

"You’ll have to take a cab."

"I’ll survive."

"Okay, then. I’ll be waiting for you," she promises, as she gathers her things. Before she vacates her cubicle she places a kiss on my cheek. "Hurry home."

"I will." I watch her as she walks away, her head down slightly. I hate that she’s going home alone. I hate that between now and then she’s going to be out my sight. "Donna?"

"Yeah?" she turns.

"No stops on the way, okay?"

"Okay."

"And double check the locks when you get home."

"I will."

Back in my office, I flip through folders and files, trying to put together a comprehensive report for Leo and the President. I’m forced to type it myself. A lesson in humility for which I am long overdue, as I’m sure you know. But at least it passes the time and keeps my mind occupied with things other than Donna waiting for me at home.

The screen on my laptop begins to blur as I wade through the report, which has become significantly longer than two pages. When the fax from the TDH shows up and Kaiser calls from Atlanta, I’m able to add their combined data to report. I read through it once, before printing out the twenty-page document. I have to dig up a fresh presentation folder, which requires ten minutes of searching through filing cabinets and desk drawers until I uncover Donna’s office supply hiding place.

My crappy watch tells me that it’s half past midnight as I rush through the corridors to Leo’s office. Margaret’s still here and she looks dolefully up at me when I arrive. She waves me into Leo’s office and I close the door behind me.

"You should really let your assistant go home once in awhile, Leo."

"Margaret’s still here? Did you treat your assistant better than I treated mine today?" He offers me the chair next to his sofa.

"I did." I take the seat, crossing my legs. I set my elbow on the arm of the chair, and rest my chin in my hand.

"Good. What have you got?" He slips his reading glasses on as he reaches for the folder I hand to him. He flips through the pages as I give him the overview, letting him know where we stand.

"Where did you learn to type?" he asks.

"Those words would imply that I actually took lessons, Leo."

"I can’t give this to the President."

"I sent my assistant home." This chair is more comfortable than it looks, and I’m finding it difficult to keep my blurry eyes open. Three weeks of less than restful sleeping habits are starting to catch up with me, now that some of the emotional pressure is off.

"You really are hopeless."

"Hey," I half-heartedly protest, "I’ll have you know that I compiled most of that data myself, which I then partially organized on my own." Leo smiles and I have to join him as I hear the words coming out of my mouth. "I know, Leo. I can’t even convince myself."

"Donna can retype it tomorrow," he offers me a reprieve.

"I’m getting a do-over?"

"Have it back to me by nine, and make sure you add tomorrow’s data."

"Okay."

"See you tomorrow. Tell Margaret to go home."

"Okay."

Margaret has ears like a bat, so she looks much happier as I exit Leo’s office. It takes me about half a second to realize I don’t need to pass along Leo’s message. "Have a good night, Margaret."

"You too, Josh."

By the time the cab drops me off in front of the house, my exhaustion hits me like a falling anvil. It takes me a few moments to figure out exactly how the key and the front door lock fit together.

I’m undressed and drifting off the guestroom bed before my slow-to-process brain remembers that I’m supposed to be across the hall. We had plans. Plans that involved nakedness and kissing and…other things for which my body is starving.

But the darkness spins around me, and as hard as I try to open my eyes, they refuse to comply with my wishes.

The sensation of weight shifting on the other side of the bed jars me awake, and I feel her warm hands on my skin.

"You didn’t come to me," she whispers.

"I was so tired," I reply. "I think I was on auto-pilot."

"We’re going to have to replot your course," she chuckles.

"I’m sorry," I apologize.

"It’s okay," she says. "We can just sleep. That’s okay, isn’t it?"

"Better than okay." I wrap my arm around her as she lays her head on my chest, her delicate hand just above my heart. "I think I missed this most of all."

"Me too, Josh," she sighs. "Me too."

The last three weeks have been one long interminable day. I think I’m finally going to get some rest tonight.

The End