Annabeth Almost Eats A Spider—Ten-ish Years Later

& & &

"Mr. Jackson, your wife is on line three," the stifled voice of the office secretary projected from a little box on my desk while I was getting ready to leave for lunch.

I sighed, wondering what it would be this time. Usually when Annabeth called me, it was about food cravings. It was always the weird stuff: salt and vinegar chips with peanut butter, carrots and Heath candy bars, food like that. She was extra-hormonal too, so if the food didn't show up at least ten minutes after she called me, she got all worried and stressed out.

I picked up the phone, "Annabeth?"

"Percy? Oh, good, it's you. We are still going out for lunch right? I'm starving, and I have had this huge craving for ravioli and mayonnaise all day. I don't even like mayonnaise! Oh and I talked to—"

"Yes, sweetheart, we'll talk it over at lunch, I need to get going," I glanced at my watch.

"Okay, bye, Percy. I love you."

"Love you too, bye," I sat the receiver in its cradle and made my way to the parking lot.

& & &

Twenty minutes later, I was sitting outside at an Italian restaurant with Annabeth. She was waiting impatiently for her ravioli, drumming her fingers on the table, and I concentrated on watching her.

"What?" she asked defensively when she saw I was staring at her. I smiled and shook my head.

"You said you talked to someone…" I trailed off, hoping she would finish it. Her eyes lit up.

"Yeah, Roy Brandon called, he said that he wanted to close on the plan for his office building," she told me, "He should be calling the main office later today."

Annabeth worked for an architecture firm in New York City. Roy Brandon was a big name contractor in the city, and getting a deal with him was big. For being twenty five, Annabeth was on a roll. It took most people years to establish themselves, and she had already gotten a contract with one of the most established companies in New York City. Everything she had hoped for was looming just in sight. She wasn't quite building monuments to the gods yet, but she was well on her way.

When she got pregnant, she insisted that she keep working from home. I tried to tell her to take it easy, but she was almost busier than ever. Not to the mention the fact that she was due at any time.

The waiter brought us a plateful of ravioli and another of spaghetti. Annabeth happily dipped her ravioli in mayonnaise, which didn't particularly look appealing, but I silenced my opinion and twisted spaghetti around my fork.

I was filling my mouth with spaghetti, when I heard a sudden squeal and a clatter of silverware hitting the table. The metal chair Annabeth was sitting in groaned as it was pushed backwards. Hurriedly, I swallowed the lump of spaghetti in my throat.

"Annabeth? What's wrong? Is it the baby?" I questioned her.

"Percy! Percy, get the spider! Get the spider!" I was somewhat relieved. This had happened before; it was something I could handle. I picked up a napkin lying on the table and leaned over to get the black pest. It made an attempt to scurry away under Annabeth's plate.

Annabeth screeched again. Several more people turned to look at what all the commotion was. I could only imagine what was going through their heads just then.

I moved her plate to my end of the circular table. By this time, Annabeth was practically cowering behind me. I made a second grab for the spider. I squished it in the napkin, looking around for a wastebasket. I spotted one by the door to go inside and dropped it in there.

When I returned to the table, Annabeth was frowning to herself.

"Thank you," she said quietly, then she looked at me, "I need to talk to the manager."

She pushed past me, "Annabeth, sweetheart, wait. We were outside, there is no avoiding the bugs," I replied swiftly.

She ignored me and continued to walk—well, waddle really—to the front desk. I waited a bit before following her.

I heard her faintly begin to speak, "I'd like to file a complaint."

"Annabeth is this really necessary?" I asked her when I caught up to her.

"Yes. It is actually."

I sighed, and turned to the lady at the desk, "Can you excuse us for a minute?"

The lady nodded her head, she looked a bit confused.

"What are you doing?" Annabeth whispered harshly.

"You are not going to file a complaint because of a spider."

"Yes, I am."

"No, you're not."

"What if I had accidentally eaten it?" Annabeth asked me.

I sighed once again, "You would not have eaten the spider."

"How do you know?"

"I just do."

She glowered at me, "What if I—"

"Ma'am is everything all right?" the lady at the desk looked concerned.

Annabeth paused for a second, as if she were trying to decide if she should say what she was thinking, "No. I'm not, to tell you the truth. As if being a stressed out, pregnant woman isn't enough. I almost ate a spider." Her voice had gone up a few decibels.

I began, "She did not alm—"

"Percy! Stop! And now my own husband is saying that I am not allowed to file a complaint."

"Annabeth, let's just go."

The woman at the desk furrowed her eyebrows. "You know, if it is really that important, I suppose you could speak to the manager…"

Annabeth smiled triumphantly at me, "That would be—" she stopped mid-sentence, grabbed my arm, and turned her head slowly towards me. Her expression changed.

"Annabeth?" I asked uneasily.

"I think my water just broke."

Ah, the joys of really pregnant, hormonal women.