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"Will do," I said and gave John a nod as the doors closed. I texted my driver to let him know I was on the way down. When I arrived at the lobby, the limo was waiting on the street out front.
I didn't know what to do about Adam Pierce, but I felt dissatisfied with just leaving things as they were and letting Adam get back to me. If there was some concern about my personal background, I wanted to talk to Adam right away.
So I called him.
His secretary answered on the third ring.
I told her who I was and asked if Adam was available.
"Let me check, Mr. Marshall," she replied. "I'll put you on hold."
Then, I waited on the line for a good five minutes, listening to canned music from the eighties. Finally, the secretary came back on the line.
"I'm sorry, but Mr. Pierce is in another meeting and can't speak with you at the moment. He'll call you back when he's free."
"Okay, thanks," I said and ended the call, frustrated with the way things were going. It was one of those 'Don't call us, we'll call you' kind of responses. Which didn't bode well for our chances of partnering with Seneca.
I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes, rubbing my forehead, trying to think of how to prove to Seneca and Adam that I was reliable.
Damned Blaine...
Damned Eric...
I sighed and watched out the window as the streets passed by on our way out of the city. It was cold and rainy, the skies darkening, and it finally felt like winter. While the weather would be no better in Westhampton, I found that looking out over the beach as the waves washed onto shore gave me a sense of any season other than winter. Having Alexa there with me made it even better, and I could hardly wait for her morning sickness to pass so we could enjoy it together while we waited for our baby to come.
I was excited to become a father for the first time. I remembered the first few Christmases I spent with my own biological parents, back before they died. Dana and I would wake up early and run downstairs, seeing the half-eaten cookies on the tray by the fireplace, the half-drunk glass of milk beside it. The presents arrayed on the floor beside the tree and special treats in Christmas stockings on the mantle. After my parents died, the Marshalls tried their best to replicate the kind of holidays we experienced. They were childless and so at first, they indulged our desires, but Christmas was never the same after our parents died. We both always compared the new Christmas to the old and found it lacking. The Marshalls meant well, but it was an un-winnable battle.
I intended to make my own children's Christmas holidays as special as mine were back when my parents were alive.
Chapter Thirteen
Alexa
For the rest of the week, I suffered through my morning sickness, spending my days in bed, sipping tea and eating crackers, only getting in a decent meal at night when my nausea passed, and I felt good enough to sit up at the dining room table with Luke and eat something substantial. Thanksgiving was only a week away and I wanted to be done with morning sickness by then so I could enjoy the day with everyone, but my body and my baby had their own mind, so it seemed. There were only a few weeks left in my semester, and while I wasn't teaching, I had to keep working on my research paper. It was due before Christmas break, and I struggled to do the work, reading late into the night, and doing my best to write something coherent.
I knew it wasn't my best work, but I wasn't operating on 100%. The timing of my morning sickness just when I had a major paper due was simply bad luck.
"Talk to your professor and see if you can get an extension,” Luke said. “You have a valid medical reason. Surely, they'll understand that you've been sick for weeks."
I shrugged, not feeling at all confident that anyone in the International Relations department would be sympathetic. It wasn't their fault I was sick and struggling to write my paper.
"Maybe I should get a letter from Dr. Williams," I said, thinking that a letter from my gynecologist might help me gain sympathy when I asked for an extension. "He said my case was unusually harsh."
"You can always try," Luke said and slipped his arm around me as we
stood at the kitchen counter late that night fixing supper at nine o'clock. I hadn't felt up to it until then. Just the thought of putting something savory in my mouth made me gag.
The next day, once the worst of my nausea passed and I was able to sit up in bed, I called Professor Gilliam to ask for an extension.
He was not sympathetic, as I feared.
"I'm sorry," he said, sounding impatient. "If you have a temporary medical issue that will interfere with your ability to complete the course requirements, I can give you an incomplete. You'll have until June of next year to finish. If that isn't good enough, you can take a leave of absence, which will extend the time you have to finish your course. If not, your final grade has to be in by December 30th. I have no leeway with that."
"I feel like I need more time to revise," I said. "I don't want to take a leave. I already took one so far, last year."
"If you don't take a leave or an incomplete, you have to finish your coursework and paper and get the grade in by the end of December. If you don't do well, it will affect your GPA and could affect your scholarship. So govern yourself accordingly."
"I understand," I said, feeling down. I just didn't think I could do the paper justice, considering how sick I had been. Despite staying up late and working every spare moment I felt well-enough, I didn't feel like my paper was the best it could be. "I'll think about it and let you know. Is there a deadline for applying for an incomplete?"
