Thesis

When I asked the girl her name, hoping to start a little girl-to-girl chat to dispel the boredom, she said "Jenny" without a smile then went back to her book. She must be only a little younger than I am, maybe twenty, twenty-one, very pretty, with big sad eyes that many guys might find both seductive and vulnerable. No wonder we're both in the same room, waiting for similar reasons.

"What are you reading?" I asked politely.

"Oh. Just this book." She flipped the book over and showed me the cover. She finally managed a smile and said she was only pretending to read because she doesn't know what else to do while waiting. "Actually, I don't know what I'm going to do. Period."

Then she caught my eye and I couldn't help but gather my maternal instincts. Pity welled up inside me. In plain sight of the nurses and the other patients in the clinic, I hugged her and she sobbed on my shoulder. The poor girl.

Her eyes were red and swollen when she finished crying, her face wet with childish tears. "Are you okay?" I asked her, then realized it was a polite but stupid thing to ask.

Then in one helpless breath, she told me her troubles, her affair with an older, married guy, the three positive pregnancy tests she got from self-help kits, and her resolve to go to the clinic to get a definitive result. She said she now regrets the whole thing. "My parents would kill me."

I wanted to tell her she shouldn't be surprised if that happens, but I am not her mother (thank goodness). Mothers are supposed to say they'd kill their daughters who get bumped up, but I am a stranger and strangers are supposed to be either indifferent or sympathetic.

Since I am in a good mood, and the cosmos have finally chosen to be good to me, blessing me with a baby after five long years, I decided to sympathetic. "Why don't we get a cup of coffee after I get my prenatal checkup and you get your pregnancy test results? So we could talk some more."

"She shook her head and muttered something about meeting her baby's father and settling things, but my phone rang and I had to excuse myself.

"Hello, honey." It was Richard, my husband. "I'm afraid I can't pick you up at the clinic because I have to meet with the student I was advising for her thesis. I've forgotten about until about an hour ago. The poor girl's got a bit of a trouble again."

I suddenly felt my blood go cold. I looked at Jenny, sitting beside me, with her vilnerably seductive, seductively vulnerable, big sad eyes staring into space.

"Who's this student of yours again? Maybe you could invite her to our house instead so you guys could be more comfortable." I waited tensely for Richard's answer.

"No need for that, baby. Jenny has been very difficult lately, lots of problems. I think I will have to drop out of her thesis altogether. I don't think I could be her adviser anymore, you know what I mean? I told her she might want to abort her thesis at this point ... Hello, honey, are you still there?"