by J.P Jackson
*
The small type in the textbook was hard on Penelope's eyes, she had several open encircling the sofa, and more on the table beside a pot of tea. The apartment was warm, filled with mementos from foreign lands and framed memories of her and Taylor. At a particularly engrossing part of her book, Penelope's eyes widened while she dunked a biscuit into her tea and sucked it into her mouth. Going in for a second dunk, she dropped the biscuit into the teacup when Taylor threw open the front door.
"You scared me!" she exclaimed, brushing the crumbs from her lap. "I thought you were working 'til five? I was thinking about spaghetti for dinner."
Taylor said nothing as he wandered into the apartment. Hollow faced and dishevelled, he wore a cheap suit and embraced a plain brown folder in his arms. Penelope stood, worried. "What's happened?"
Taylor moved to the edge of the bed and Penelope followed, growing more concerned as she sat beside him.
"Ham?" she whispered, combing her hand through his hair. "What's wrong, love?"
"This," he muttered, passing her the inch thick folder. Penelope opened the folder, shook her head and frowned as she glanced over her husband's incomprehensible scribblings.
"It's not," she gasped, her fingers trembling as she turned the pages. "You didn't?"
Taylor vaguely nodded back. "I did it, Penelope, it works. Will you check it over? I need to be sure. I need to be certain."
Penelope threw a hand over her mouth to hold in a giggle. She then closed the folder and reached for her glasses. "Make me another pot of tea, and fetch me my biscuits."
Hours later, Taylor was still on the edge of the bed, wringing his fingers as he waited. The bedroom door opened and Penelope entered the room. She looked exhausted yet exhilarated, her blonde hair draped over her face and coiled around her glasses. Taylor glanced up at her, full of nerves and hope as she joined him on the bed. Penelope set the folder onto her lap then lay her head against her husband's heavy shoulder. "Eureka," she whispered.
Taylor exhaled yet remained stiff. Penelope however, appeared scared as she interlaced her hand with his. "Tomorrow...you're going to be the most famous man on Earth."
Taylor seemed to snap out of a dream as he turned to his wife's soft face.
"I'll still be me. I'll still be me."
— CHAPTER SIX —
