It Can't Possibly Get Any Worse
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Anything Stephen Sommers came up with isn't
mine. :)
Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated!
"And this will be your office, Mrs. O'Connell," Dr. Royce
said, opening the door near the end of the quiet hall. I stepped in at his motioning, looking
around the small room. It was a typical
office: a desk straight into the room with a large chair behind, a smaller
table off to the side of the desk housing a typewriter, several shelves lining
the walls, though only about half-filled with books, with a small window behind
the desk allowing the dank London light into the office. "I trust you'll find
everything satisfactory."
"Quite, Dr. Royce," I said with a grateful smile. It was indeed a tad smaller than the office
I had begun sharing in Cairo shortly after we had returned from Hamunaptra
under the new curator, Dr. Whitley, but then, in Cairo, I was practically the
assistant curator, merely because I knew more about the museum than half of
those who had worked there for twenty-plus years. But this was a great deal better than starting back at the
bottom, in the library.
"Splendid. After
all, you did come highly recommended by Dr. Whitley. It would be a pleasure to have someone of your knowledge on board
with us." He smiled with a tilt of his head.
"Well, I shall leave you to get acquainted with your office, then." He closed the door, leaving me alone to my
new home. It had been a difficult
decision to leave Cairo behind, but we all had felt it would be a good change
for us, especially after the strain Hamunaptra had put on us all. My nightmares of the City of the Dead had
become few and far between in the last few weeks back in London, and it was a
welcome peace.
I sat down at the desk, inhaling deeply. This was *my* office. I wasn't sharing this one; my desk wasn't
out in the open for all the world to see…this was my little space in the midst
of history.
I pulled a small picture frame from my handbag, a photograph
of Rick and I on our wedding day.
Jonathan had snuck up behind us, snapping the shot without our
knowing. I smiled, my fingers running
along the edge of the silver gilded frame.
That day was by far the happiest of my life.
A knocking at the door tore me from my reminiscing. Before I could even answer, the door swung
open and Annie sauntered in.
"Good morning, Evelyn," she said with a grin.
"Good morning, Annie," I replied, setting the frame on the
desk. She walked up, sitting on the
edge of the desk, snatching up the frame just as my fingers let go.
"This your wedding day?"
"Yes," I said proudly with a grin. "Jonathan gave it to me last night as an 'office warming'
gift." The smile had faded slightly
from her painted lips as she studied the photograph intensely.
"Well," she said as she sat the frame down, "I hope you
haven't gotten too comfortable there because there is quite a bit of work to do
today."
"What would you have me do?" I asked cheerfully, hoping my
new start with Annie would stay on the right track. She smiled, though something underlying in her eyes caught
me. I shook it off, chalking it up to
my nerves. After all, it was my first
day on the job. I was a bit nervous to
say the least, and learning that Annie was to be my supervisor had raised
several questions in me, though none of them I voiced. She did seem qualified, seeing as how she
had recognized my wedding ring immediately as being from Seti's reign. But still, I couldn't help but wonder…
I stood, following her out of the office and down the long
hall. It was going to take me some time
to get used to this museum; it was a good deal larger than Cairo's, dealing
with all periods of history and not just Ancient Egypt, though it did house one
of the largest exhibits in the world. I
followed Annie through the labyrinth of halls until we came to a stop outside a
set of large double doors. She smiled
at me as she opened them grandly. "Here
we are then," she said, stepping inside.
I followed her in, almost in awe at the sheer size of the library.
"This is quite remarkable," I said quietly, glancing down
row after row of ancient tomes and volumes collecting dust.
"I'm glad you think so," Annie said, coming to a stop a
third of the way into the library.
"There is a shipment here that needs to be coded, catalogued, and
filed," she said, indicating to the numerous crates lining the walls and
aisles. "There is another one twice
this size due in tomorrow." I looked up
at her, trying to hold my smile, though failing miserably.
"Umm…isn't…isn't this the librarian's job?" I asked, trying
not to sound put out.
"My dear girl," she said in a rather condescending tone,
"what do you think they hired you for?"
"Well, I was under the impression that I would be dealing
with shipments of artifacts and the like," I said, trying to keep my
composure. "But I really hadn't thought
I would be doing…this…"
"What? Did you think
you had been hired for your archeological skills?" She laughed as though the idea was absurd. "Evelyn, Evelyn. So you found Hamunaptra. You
and that American husband of yours. A
lucky find does not make a true archeologist."
She looked at me with a snide smile before walking back toward the doors
of the library. I fumed. So perhaps it had been a lucky find. But I hardly think she was in any position
to lecture me on what does and does not make a 'true archeologist.' "Oh, and remember, all of this must be
completed today to make room for the next shipment. Ta." She slammed the door
shut, leaving me in my shocked state.
And the day had started off so well…
After several hours, my back had had more than enough, and I
wasn't even halfway through yet. With a
heavy sigh, I climbed down the ladder, landing firmly on the tile only to
topple over, slamming the side of my temple into one of the crates before
hitting the floor with a heavy thud. I
laid there for a moment until the jarring pain had subsided. I pushed myself up, gingerly touching above
my left eye. I winced at the sting, not
terribly surprised to find the crimson drops on my fingertips. I glanced around, trying to determine what
had caused the fall when I noticed the heel of my shoe lying several feet
away. "It can't possibly get any
worse," I groaned, clamoring to my feet.
My hand lurched for the ladder as I nearly lost my footing again. The bookcase creaked from the sudden surge
of extra weight as my breath caught in my throat, my eyes widening. "The last thing you need to do is ruin *this*
library," I said when I knew for certain the bookcase would not topple.
"Talking to yourself, Evelyn?" a deep voice asked, making my
skin crawl.
"I stand corrected, it *can* get worse," I said as my eyes
fell on Anton. "What are you doing
here?" I finally asked, limping past him.
"I was between tours and I just wanted to see how you were
enjoying your new job."
"Well, I have to admit, this wasn't quite the day I was
expecting," I said, rummaging around in my purse for my handkerchief.
"That's a nasty cut," he said as though it were news to
me. "You may want to have that looked
at." I glanced at him over the rim of
my glasses, turning my attentions back to my bag. I picked it up to dig deeper, one of the straps suddenly breaking
away, spilling the contents across the floor of the library. I dropped my arms down at my side, the now
empty bag dangling from my hand. "Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but I really
must run. There's a tour group waiting
for me in the lobby." He smiled curtly
before departing.
I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply. No, no I would not cry over this. And I most certainly would not cry in front of Anton. I opened my eyes slowly, kneeling down
carefully on my good shoe, throwing the strewn contents of my bag back in. I crawled about on my hands and knees,
trying to find everything, (it was easier than getting up and risking yet
another fall.) I could feel the blood
slowly trickling down my forehead toward my eyebrow. I dabbed at it carefully with my fingers, crawling toward the
door as I noticing my hairbrush had escaped a good distance. I was so set on cleaning up my mess that I
didn't even notice the highly polished pair of shoes with stark white spats
standing over my hairbrush until I reached for it.
"Mrs. O'Connell? Is everything all right?" Dr. Royce asked,
offering a hand down to me. I took it gratefully, standing warily on my own two
feet.
"No, no I'm afraid not," I stammered, trying to figure out
how to explain myself. "I was busy
cataloguing the shipment," I started quickly, recalling all that had transpired
in the last two minutes. "And when I climbed off the ladder, my heel broke, and
I fell right into one of the crates and cut myself, then trying to find my
handkerchief, my handbag broke, dumping everything everywhere and—"
"Child, why on earth were you cataloguing to being with?" he
asked, cutting off my rambling. "That's
the librarian's job." He looked at me
curiously as though I were a half-wit.
"Well, yes, I know, that's what I was told I was to be
doing…"
"By whom?"
"Annie." Dr. Royce
pursed his lips for a moment, taking a deep breath.
"All you had to do so far as this shipment was concerned was
to see to it that everything had arrived.
Well, it's no matter at the moment," he said, waving his hand. He reached into his lapel pocket, producing
a neatly folded white handkerchief, pressing it gently to my forehead. "Let me drive you to the hospital and have
that looked at." He helped me finish
gathering the contents of my handbag, throwing my broken heel in with the rest
of the now very disorganized mess before escorting me out of the library.
Several hours later, after the two stitches had been set in
my temple and bandaged properly, Dr. Royce pulled to a stop in front of my
home.
"Thank you again, Dr. Royce," I said, stepping out of the
warm car into the bitterly cold December wind.
"It was no trouble at all," he said warmly with a
smile. "And don't you worry about Miss
Bentley. I will see to her." I smiled for the first time all afternoon,
closing the door of the car. I turned
toward the house, my eyes reflexively glancing at the Bentleys'. Annie wouldn't be home for another several
hours. Hopefully I wouldn't have to
deal with her until tomorrow.
I turned the key in the lock, throwing my body into the door
to force it apart from the doorframe. I
wobbled into the foyer, slamming the door shut behind me.
"Evy?" I closed my
eyes for a second, feeling a warm rush throughout my body as I involuntarily
smiled. I walked, or hobbled rather,
into the front parlor, throwing my broken handbag on the table, throwing myself
onto the sofa as Rick came out of the kitchen.
"I didn't expect you home so early...Oh God, honey? What happened?"
"It was just a bad day."
I took off my heelless shoe, tossing it aside like the garbage it now
was. I slipped off the other shoe,
leaning back on the couch as Rick sat down beside me, concern filling his pale
eyes. He tilted my head up gently
looking closely at the bandage and the discoloration around it. "It's nothing really," I tried to reassure
him. "It's only a couple of stitches. I
just took a fall at work when my heel broke, and then the strap of my handbag
broke when I was trying to find my handkerchief, and Anton just walked away
without some much as a hand, and all because Annie stuck me in the library to
do the librarian's job when all I had to do was just check the shipment…" I couldn't contain the pent up emotion any
longer as the tears stung at my eyes. I
closed my eyes, shaking my head, wondering what I had done to deserve such a
day. I felt Rick's arms wrap around me,
pulling me into him. I let my body go
through the motions, wrapping my arms around him, weeping into his chest.
"Shh," he chided softly, stroking my hair. "It's all right."
"No, no it's not," I said angrily through my tears. "Why do I feel so inadequate all of a
sudden? I couldn't even do a simple
task that—that had been my job in Cairo…and—"
I couldn't even finished, the sobs making it impossible to get anything
out.
"Evy, you're not inadequate," Rick said, pushing me up to
look at him. He cupped my face in his
hands, wiping the tears away with his thumbs.
"It was just a bad day. Everyone
has bad days. You just had four or five
all rolled into one." He smiled, kissing
away the tear the rolled down my cheek.
"You are *not* inadequate," he repeated, leaning his forehead carefully
against mine. I smiled lightly before
he pressed his lips to mine. I closed
my eyes, forgetting about the warm stinging of my red eyes, focusing on my
husband's efforts to push away the day's horrid events. "If I didn't have to worry about Jonathan
walking in at any moment," he said quietly, his eyes soft, "I would make you
forget today here and now." He kissed
me again and I willingly surrendered to him, not caring if my brother happened
to walk in. "But, if I did," he said
breathlessly with a sigh, "then dinner would probably burn worse than I'm sure
it already has."
"You….you were making dinner?" I asked, dumbfounded.
"Well, I'm not talking about a culinary masterpiece, or
anything, but it's edible, I think, and that's a pretty good start." He stood up, pulling me up with him,
pressing my body close to his. "It was
going to be a surprise, but then you had to come strutting in the door…"
"More like falling in the door," I corrected with a light
grin. He smiled, placing a light peck
on my lips, before taking my hands, leading me barefoot into the kitchen. "Just promise me one thing."
"What's that?"
"You'll make me forget later," I said through lowered
eyelids and a small smile. He dropped
my hands, turning into the kitchen. Now
what did I say?? I stood speechless in
the doorway of the kitchen, my shoulders drooping, mindlessly watching him walk
quickly to the stove. He rushed about
the kitchen for a quick moment, his back to me before he suddenly came up
beside me, scooping me up in his arms.
He marched back into the parlor and threw me on the couch.
With a breathless kiss, he said, "Forget Jonathan."
