Chapter One
“There has to be some kind of a law against this.” An agonized moan slipped through pursed lips. Pain pounded a tattoo in Marilee’s head. The sun, a brilliant globe on the eastern horizon, blazed in a brilliant blue sky. There were no clouds to lessen the intensity of the summer sun as it beat down on the roof of the red Ford Escape. Even at this fairly early time of day waves of intense heat radiated off the asphalt parking lot. It was a glorious late summer day and Marilee Conway wished for nothing more than to be back home buried under the covers of her bed with the curtains drawn against the blazing sun. Instead, here she was, in the parking lot of the Research Center
It may have been a beautiful day in the neighborhood, but there was no joy in Mudville. Another groan escaped as all kinds of tacky clichés raced through her head. Truly, it was a gorgeous day, but Mari was having a difficult time appreciating the great weather. After an unseasonably chilly, wet July, August’s heat was a welcome relief for most. But not for her. Instead of spending what little free time she had lying out by the pool soaking up the sunshine, Mari spent the time rushing to the bathroom dealing with constantly recurring episodes of stomach flu. These episodes were taking their toll and if this latest occurrence did not pass soon Mari would actually have to break down and call the doctor. Holding down any substantial amount of food had become a major accomplishment since the illness had first struck in the middle of May. As if the nausea was not enough, there were times Mari was lightheaded to the point she felt like she might actually float away. She felt so sick, only managing to get through the days by sheer determination. In the evenings she went home, ate a couple of crackers and crawled into bed. Joe, her husband of ten years, would never have allowed this to go on so long.
There was no doubt as to what would happen if Joe was home to see her in this condition. She could picture him towering over her, those incredible blue eyes dark with worry, his face set with determination to make her see reason. He would not come right out and demand what he wanted; he was too non-confrontational for that. No, first there would be the gentle, persuasive stage, where he would try to persuade her to do what he thought was best. “Mari, you really should see a doctor,” she could hear him say, his deep, husky voice soft and cajoling. She greatly appreciated this stage, since Mari did not like to be told flat out what to do. But she generally ignored it. Then would come the commanding stage. “I called and you have an appointment at ten.” Joe could be a take charge type of guy when forced into it.
But being on an extended out of town project with work since the end of April left her husband out of the loop this time. It was difficult to lay the law down and then enforce it when he was well over a thousand miles away. He had been home for Memorial Day weekend but the sickness had really just started then and she had managed to push it aside for the long weekend. Her work as a research assistant ramped up then, with a grant renewal looming over her and her boss. The result was both she and her boss were working late into the evening and most Saturdays. Mari did not see much reason for Joe to come home just to be with her when she was not going to be home anyway. Although Mari’s boss insisted she take Independence Day off work, it had fallen during a time when Joe was swamped with work, making it difficult for him to get home without falling behind in his work. Since the illness left her feeling nauseous and exhausted most of the day anyway, she told him it would not be worth coming home to just sit around the house watching her be sick. He urged her to go see the doctor, but Mari insisted it was just the stomach flu mixed with a little bit of stress. As soon as the grant paperwork was finished and mailed out she would be fine. Her insistence eased Joe’s worry and they made a promise to take two weeks off work when he came home for a much needed vacation.
With an increasingly heavy workload to plow through Mari ignored her symptoms, as much as she was able. Between doing computer research for the grant and attending to his other administrative duties, her boss was not in the lab much but when he did come in, he watched her closely. Mari figured he was reporting back to Joe via email. She glossed over how she felt when Joe called each evening and continued going into the lab each day to keep up. There was just too much to do to allow one little nagging illness get her down.
“You can do this, you can do this.” The words played like a litany in a mind fogged by exhaustion. They ran like a mantra through her head in a vain attempt to convince herself that she could really move. Knowing it was not going to get any easier, Mari reluctantly dragged herself out of the car barely stifling the groan of utter weariness that rose to her lips. The one weekend she had taken off work had not been nearly long enough. Most of it had been spent in the master bathroom, losing the little she had managed to eat. When not in the bathroom, she was either curled up on the bed or the sofa resting. Her sleep was so fitful at night, with the roiling of her stomach waking her often. She would roll from side to side trying to ease the nausea, finally falling into a restless slumber just as dawn was breaking.
She missed Joe, had reached for the phone dozens of times over the last month, but never dialed unless she could mask how awful she felt. If he knew how sick she was, it was possible he would fly home. That would delay his permanent return and Mari really wanted him to come home. There was so much comfort in his presence. She missed the way he babied her when she was sick. Her sacrifice paid off, because Joe had called last night to tell her he would be home tonight, and it looked like he would not have to go back. Hopefully by the time he got home she would be able to stand upright.
Reaching back into the car, Mari grabbed the backpack off the front passenger seat, and hooked it over her shoulder. Outside the car the Michigan Midwest humidity weighed heavily on her. Her jeans and short sleeve shirt felt damp and sticky already and she had only been out of the car for less than a minute. Strands of light brown hair that had escaped from her pony tail clung damply to Mari’s face. Forcing herself to push away from the car, Mari slammed the door. She looked up at the building that housed the Research Center
The importance of this grant renewal prevented Mari from just turning around and going home. Funding was becoming increasingly hard to get, which made it imperative that her boss’s grant get renewed. So instead of staying home and working on overcoming this illness, Mari spent a great deal of time and energy making sure her boss’s data was interesting and accurate. Not that she was working alone. Both their jobs depended on getting this funding and after four months of marathon work sessions, the lab work was finally complete. Now it was just a matter of doing the final write up of the experiments, preparing graphs and charts, and putting it into an attractive package that would satisfy and intrigue the grant renewal committee. One more week at most and they could breathe a collective sigh of relief, ship out the package and pray for another five years of employment.
The small burst of energy that carried Mari through the parking lot gate flagged as she crossed the street. By the time she pushed through the glass doors and reached the elevators, it was a struggle just to stand up straight. She sent up a prayer that she would make it to her desk before collapsing. Since the bench work for this grant was finished, most of the day would be spent at her desk, which generally kept her from tossing her cookies. It also had the added benefit of letting her put her head down and doze once in a while. Mari shook her head ruefully as she pressed a hand to her stomach to quell rising nausea. There were times working alone was a very good thing.
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