Donor - Ch. 03

3.

"She's so unhappy, Michael."

"Why?" he asked as he joined Samantha in bed, pulling the covers up and settling in before cracking a book open. "That Tommy guy was a complete imbecile. I was so happy to know I'd never have to see his annoying face again, you'd think I was the one who was going out with him."

"It's not that..."

"Well, what is it?" Michael inquired disinterestedly, turning a page, more absorbed in his reading than the conversation. "It's been how many months now? Plenty of time to get over that jackass and get used to being single again..."

"I said it wasn't about him, Michael!"

He looked up then, surprised at the fierce response and anger clouding his fiancee's pretty face. It wasn't like her to get so mad so quickly. "Samantha... I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it."

"Right," she answered tersely, unmollified.

"Well... What is it then?" he asked after what he felt was the appropriate pause. "What's making Janet so unhappy?

"Now that I think of it... what's making you so unhappy? You've been really preoccupied these past few weeks."

"I...

"It's just..." Samantha trailed off then ran a hand through her blonde hair, giving a small frustrated huff. "I just understand how she feels."

"Which is..?" Michael closed the book and set it on the nightstand to give her his undivided attention. "Can you clue me in?"

She didn't look at him, staring off in silence for a few moments before finally answering. "She just feels like she's running out of time."

"Oh. I see. This is a woman thing, right..?" He immediately regretted the question as Samatha's blue eyes narrowed, shooting daggers.

"Try not to be a pig, please, Michael. It's not attractive."

"I'm sorry, honey, you know I'm not trying to be--"

"Try harder."

He put his arms around her slim shoulders, giving her a kiss on the cheek, which she tried to squirm away from. This whole cold shoulder attitude just wasn't like her; she was really upset.

"I know she's your best friend, Samantha, but this is just life. People date, people break up. I know you want to show solidarity, but it doesn't do any good for you to be as depressed as she is. You can't help her with this..."

"See, that's just it, Michael!" she broke in, surprising him again with the forcefulness of her retort. "I can..!"

"Ohhh... kay..." he replied carefully, sensing the anguish and pressure she was under, even if he didn't understand it. "How..?"

"I... I can't tell you that."

"What?" Now it was his turn to feel hurt, and honestly quite surprised. There was nothing they didn't share between them...

"Oh, Michael." Samantha saw the look on his face, knew what he was feeling. "I'm sorry. It's just... I shouldn't have brought this up. I really just need to think about it some more.

"More than I have already, all this time..." She trailed off, with a small shake of her head, speaking more to herself than anything.

He thought about pressing her and trying to get it out of her, whatever it was, but then he thought better of it and tried to come up with the right thing to say. "You're a good friend, Samantha," he comforted.

"You haven't even said a word about the wedding in the last two weeks. From what I've seen, most girls would be completely checked out, busy planning everything, worrying about her maid of honor's relationship drama ruining the big day...

"Janet's really lucky to have a friend like you."

His words appeared to have the intended effect. Immediately the crease in her brow disappeared, as if she'd been waiting for the affirmation and the anger dropped away from her expression as she turned to him. "Really? You think so?"

"Of course I do, honey."

She snuggled up to him warmly, giving him a quick peck. "Thank you for saying that, Michael. I love you."

But then in the next moment, the smile slowly slid from her face as her jaw set and her expression turned into one of firm resolve.

"It's exactly what I needed to hear."

Samantha reached over to the nightstand and shut the lamp off, shrouding her face in darkness.

"Good night."

***

Janet was exhausted as she fumbled with her keys, trying to jam them into the apartment doorknob while barely managing to hold onto the heavy grocery bag with one arm. At last she managed, nearly dropping the bag in the process as she spilled inside.

It was late and she was very tempted to leave everything by the door and go straight to bed, but she couldn't -- the vast majority of the groceries were frozen tv dinners. So she slogged over to the freezer, shoving everything inside.

Looking back over the past few months, Janet's life felt muted, dull and colorless. With little to look forward to, she'd mostly thrown herself into her work, going into the office early and leaving late, though she'd be hard pressed to say that the extra hours had been noticed or appreciated. But then, maybe that was to be expected since the quality of her work had declined -- her productivity had gone way down, and if anything she was getting less done these days.

The lack of energy wasn't merely from the long hours, however. A general malaise had settled over her alongside the accompanying funk that had been gathering since her dinner pitch to Samantha, and she felt perpetually tired.

The eager, pent-up distracting energy from her insane idea was long gone, leaving her with a sharp clarity and sense that she'd honestly been temporarily deranged. But as the weeks passed, that feeling became more and more blunted, giving way to sluggishness and lethargy in its place. What had she even been thinking in the first place, Janet wondered vaguely for the hundredth time over, with a dull ponderance rather than the cringing angst of those first few days.

Now that it wasn't even a remote possibility, The Idea seemed even more preposterous than when she'd first conceived of it. Becoming a single mother! Asking her roommate to help her become one... through the use of that crazy drug! It was complete madness... It was a small miracle that Samantha was even still talking to her at all.

To that end, at least, the one silver living was that no lasting damage appeared to have been done. There had been some careful treading around each other in the immediate aftermath, but neither had broached the subject of that dinner again and soon it had faded into the background.

Samantha had been spending more time at Michael's since then, but as Janet was around so much less, and, truthfully, less engaged with everyone and everything around her, her roommate's increased absence didn't seem all that unusual or a direct result of what had happened.

If anything, Samantha had made an ongoing, if considerate and unobtrusive, steady effort to shake Janet out of her state of depression, though she'd mostly rebuffed all of the attempts. It wasn't at all that she was angry or resentful -- it was just that when she thought about making the effort to go out in a social setting, around other people, she just couldn't seem to muster the energy and will to go.

The lack of energy was the only constant in Janet's grey, bleak world. It had been a tremendous summoning of will to even go to the grocery store after work instead of going straight home; indeed, it had been on her to-do list for over a week, and the internal debate of shopping for groceries versus starving to death had only just barely given way to reason.

That monumental task finally finished with the packing away of the freezer, Janet's eyes kept fluttering closed as she brushed her teeth, getting ready for bed. She was nudged slightly towards wakefulness by her phone giving a small quiet chime and accompanying buzz.

It was only after Janet numbly reached out and squinted at the received text message that her eyes snapped open wide with an alertness she'd not felt in months, the toothbrush frozen in her mouth, her heart suddenly pounding in her chest.

The message was a single line from Samantha.

It simply read: "I'll do it."