Counting the Days

"The Grim Reaper's here." Penny said under her breath as Jessica came back out onto the floor. Jessica glanced up to see the young woman sitting in her section.

The Grim Reaper was a name they had dubbed to a regular of theirs. She was young. Couldn't possibly be older than her mid to late thirties. And either came from money or married into it, but she always came in alone. Almost always ordered whatever one of the specials were and had a personality that was near soul sucking. Between her venomous speech to soul-crushing eyes, she always left you feeling empty and hollow and useless by the time she left, even if you were lucky enough to not be insulted.

Jessica pulled her big girl pants on, straightened her cummerbund and marched over to her table. "Good afternoon ma'am." She pulled out her pad of paper. "Can I interest you in something to drink?"

"Water with lemon. No ice."

"Of course--" Jessica choked on a sob as the familiar cramping came from her abdomen. "Excuse me for a moment, please." She hurried from the table and asked Penny to cover for her for a moment as she rushed to the bathroom. There in her underwear was the evidence. The crushing of the hope that had begun to blossom when her period had been nine days late. She hadn't been brave enough to take a pregnancy test this time. Didn't want to be disappointed by the minus sign or the sad face or just the one line or the glaring "not pregnant." She really thought this time would be different.

Quickly taking care of herself, she hurried back out to the floor after brushing away the tears and blowing her nose. Good as new. At least on the outside. She swung by her purse and pulled out the little black notebook. The notebook that had become her life. Never had she been so diligent about what went in and came out of her body. Foods. Her temperature. Her weight. Her bowel movements. Tracking ovulation cycles and periods. Everything was in this book. She had tried so hard for so long.

As another wave of cramping rippled across her abdomen, she wanted to hurl the notebook into the dumpster. What was the point? The last three years had been filled with nothing but disappointment. Her OB/GYN recommended fertility treatments but heavily emphasized in vitro. With Jessica's low egg count and estragon levels all over the map, it would probably be their best bet. And as much as Jessica would love to do those things, the money wasn't there. Her husband, Richie, had been laid off for near five months now in desperate search of a new job. He'd been doordashing and ubering to help with the bills, but it was nowhere near enough to pay for fertility treatments.

Feeling defeated, she tucked the notebook back into her purse. She'd wait to tell Richie the bad news when she got home.

"I've already taken her order, but her water's getting pretty low." Penny whispered.

"Thank you." Jessica grabbed a pitcher of water from behind the bar counter. "More water ma'am?"

Wordlessly, she slid her cup closer to the edge of the table.

At the same time Jessica heard the cubes clink into the glass, the Grim Reaper said "is that ice?"

Not sure if it was from this one small blunder or an accumulation of all of the pent up emotions from all of the heartbreak that she hadn't allowed herself to fully succumb to, she broke. Tears welling and spilling over. Her breath came in hitched waves.

The Grim Reaper didn't even flinch. Simply sat there and watched until several minutes had passed and Jessica could quiet herself down. And then, surprisingly, the Grim Reaper tipped her hand toward the empty seat at the table.

Jessica eyed the seat and then the Grim Reaper. With her hand still pointing to the available seat, she tipped her head ever so slightly as if telling Jessica it was truly ok.

Without allowing herself to take a second to think it over, she sat. Using one of the extra cloth napkins from the table, she blew her nose. "I'm so sorry ma'am."

"No need to apologize." She wiped away Jessica's words with a small flick of the wrist. "And after that, I believe you should start calling me Mary."

"Yes ma'am--Mary."

For the first time, in the six years that Jessica had worked at The Café Palazzo, she witnessed Mary smile.

"Feeling better, I assume?"

Jessica's face burned with a fierce fire. She was so fortunate that her boss wasn't there. And even luckier that Mary didn't go postal. She could have lost her job today.

"If it's not too bold to ask," Mary took a sip of her now iced water and shivered. "Mind sharing?"

Jessica looked up at Mary, meeting her eyes for the first time. They weren't the black pits that she used to think them as, but a really dark green. Still a bit of frowning around the edges, but there was something about them that made Jessica feel safe.

"Completely confidential." Mary folded her hands on the tabletop. "It's literally what I do for a living."

Sucking in a long breath, Jessica debated simply getting up from the table and resuming her duties. But there was something so liberating and enticing about the prospect of being able to share her pain with an unbiased third party.

So she did. She told Mary about the years of trying. The miscarriages. The false alarms. The negative pregnancy test after negative test. The testing that both she and Richie had gone through to check fertility and overall wellness. How the real problem was her and the body that didn't want to do the one thing it was made to do. How they didn't have the money to take the next steps.

When Jessica finished her tale, taking a deep breath to steady herself so she wouldn't start sobbing again, Mary reached across the table and squeezed her hand.

"I understand," Mary said. "It's not easy."

Jessica nodded. Not sure entirely where this solidarity came from, but grateful at the same time. "Thank you, for this." She blushed again. "But I should really get back to work."

"Oh! Of course." It was Mary's turn to have her face turn the color of beets. "Of course."

Jessica hurried back to the kitchen to get Mary's food, luckily still fairly warm, and a fresh glass of water with no ice. She had another two tables come in while Mary was still there, but made sure to be extra attentive. Swinging by Mary's table whenever she could to show just how appreciative she was of their encounter.

After cleaning up a spill, that seemed far more deliberate than accidental, she turned to check on Mary to offer her a dessert which she would make sure was on the house (or more accurately on herself), but she was already gone. Her plate and glass were empty. The bill sat patiently at the end of the table. Jessica swiped it up and was about to tuck it away when her eyes slid across the tip.

Surely it was a trick of the eyes or a mishap.

But no, there written into the tip was $20,000 and on the backside written "I hope this helps make your dreams come true. It know it's a lot, but it's something I wish I could have had. Do it for the both of us." Signed Mary.

Jessica's chest tightened and her heart was full and overwhelmed with emotions. And for the first time in years, the tears that slipped from her eyes were filled with hope.