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Nerdy JennaChapter 3 free porn video
"What did Don want?" Paola asked as Keith stepped into his lab.
"He wanted to give me this." He showed her a gift certificate for dinner at the Parkside. "For figuring out the tank car problem. It was a happy ending for all. The customer accepted the other nine tank cars, our plant will remanufacture one tank car and the railroad will reimburse us for our trouble. Happy for all but the railroad, I guess."
Paola stared at him, mouth agape. "This is so typical. I did the work and you get the glory."
"Did you ever hear the expression that shit rolls downhill?"
"Yeah."
"Well, sometimes the glory rolls downhill, too. Don received this from the vice president of specialty products, since he's the responsible manager. He passed it on to me." Keith handed the certificate to her. "You and Francesco should go have a night on the town. It was good work, Paola. I appreciate it and so does Don."
"Thank you." She regarded the certificate. "A hundred dollars."
"It should be worth two dinners and a bottle of wine."
"Keith -- you're all right. Going to lunch?" she asked.
"Yes, but..."
"But with Jenna. You two are becoming quite the item."
Keith strolled into the library. He saw Jenna's office closed and dark. He saw one of the receptionists using a copier. "Excuse me -- do you know where Jenna Cole is?"
"Out sick," she replied.
"Thanks."
Keith put a noodle bowl into his microwave. His phone rang and he answered it. "Hello?"
Keith -- it's Jenna.
"Jenna -- how are you doing? You were out sick today."
Mom took me to the hospital...
"Hospital!"
My doctor has his office there. They drew blood and ran a bunch of tests to figure out why I'm having these reactions.
"And?"
Everything's normal ... normal for someone with Type I diabetes, that is.
"Are you skipping your class tonight?"
Yeah. I'm taking tomorrow off, too. Mom thinks I'm over-extending myself. Maybe she's right. Maybe I am burning my candle at both ends. She said I should take it easy tomorrow -- maybe we could do some shopping.
"Is that what you want to do?"
She has been sweeter with me today than in a long time, Keith. Maybe I do need a break.
"Sometimes someone with a chronic illness or a disability does work extra-hard -- to compensate."
I guess I do that to a degree. I try not to take time off, even if I'm not feeling a hundred percent.
"Do what you need to do to feel better, Jenna. Are we still on for Friday?" '
Yes -- I wouldn't miss that.
"I'll look for you Friday. Take it easy and get better."
I'll do that. I love you, Keith.
"I love you, too."
Just hearing that is making me feel better. Good night.
Jenna switched off the lights in her office and closed the door. She was wearing her yellow, knee-length dress over a short-sleeved blouse. Keith regarded her slender forearms, streaked with pale blue veins. "Where's your car?" he asked. "You can follow me."
"I took the bus. I don't have a car."
"What about the silver Saturn?"
"That's Mom's car. I only drive when I go to class. I take the bus to work. It's a short walk to and from the bus stop and it gives me my exercise."
He led her toward the parking lot and unlocked his car. Jenna sat beside him, pulled closed the door and rubbed her forearms. "It's turned chilly," she remarked. "It was warm this morning so I didn't bring a jacket."
"I made reservations at 333 Main."
"I've never been there."
"Neither have I but I hear it's nice."
Keith piloted his vehicle onto Main Street. He pulled up to the restaurant. "I'll let you out to go inside, then I'll find a place to park. That way you won't need to be out in the cold. See you in a bit."
Jenna stepped out of the car and headed into the restaurant. Keith drove down the block looking for a place to park, finding one on a side street. He sprinted back to the restaurant and found her standing near the hostess's podium.
"Well -- my car karma ran out this time," he reported as he attempted to catch his breath. He addressed the hostess. "Reservations for Lipson."
"This way, please."
A waitress set down menus. "Anything to drink?" she asked.
"I'll have a classic Martini," Keith replied.
"Mam?"
"Oh ... A diet coke."
"I'll give you a minute to look over the menus."
Keith looked up at Jenna. "You don't want a cocktail?"
"I don't drink alcohol. It's not good for a diabetic."
"My mom has a glass of wine once in a while."
"My mom told me to stay away from it so I stay away from it."
"I'll go cancel the Martini, then."
"Don't on my account," she replied.
"I don't like drinking alone."
"You're not alone. Just pretend I have a rum and Coke but without the rum." Jenna scanned the menu. "I think I'll have the poached salmon."
"I like the looks of the capon."
"If you'll excuse me, I need to use the ladies' room." Jenna picked up her purse and headed toward the restrooms.
The waitress returned with the drinks. "Do you need a few more minutes?" she asked.
"I'm going to have the capon and the lady will have the poached salmon," he replied. "I suppose we should wait 'til she gets back in case of any details."
"I'll give you a few more."
He saw Jenna returning from the restroom. "Are you all right?" he asked.
"Yes, of course. I had to dose myself. When I go to a restaurant I look over the menu, figure out what I'm going to order and make a guess as the carbs level. I do a finger poke and decide my dose."
"What is your dose?" he asked.
"Eight units. If my sugar is high then I do nine, if it's low I do seven. If what I order is heavy on the carbs -- like pizza -- I add another unit."
"Where do you inject yourself?"
"In the ladies' room."
"I mean, where on you?"
"Oh. In my hip, mostly." She smiled. "I like it that you understand what this condition is like."
The waitress returned for their orders. "You said the capon and the poached salmon."
"That's right."
"Your dinners come with a salad. What dressings?"
"Oil and vinegar," Jenna replied.
"I'll have the blue cheese."
The waitress removed the menus. "Enjoy your dinners, folks."
"So, did you have any problems the last two nights?"
Jenna ate a forkful of salmon. She shook her head. "No. Everything was normal. Usually I only do one or two fingersticks a day. Lately I've been doing them before each shot."
"And?"
"Everything's normal. Then I have a reaction and my bedtime poke is all screwed up. By dinner the next day, it's settled down again."
"But, no reaction yesterday?"
She shook her head. "No, nor the night before."
"Weird," he remarked.
"I think so and so does my doctor."
"I was thinking -- instead of going to Sloacum Hall tonight we could go to my place and watch Kurosawa's Hidden Fortress. I have the DVD. It's my favorite. It was one of the inspirations for Star Wars.
"I haven't seen it."
"Hidden Fortress or Star Wars?"
"Neither."
"How can you avoid being exposed to Star Wars?"
"I managed to avoid it."
"We'll need to fix that," he replied. "What about Hidden Fortress tonight?"
She nodded. "I'd like to do that."
"Great."
Keith ejected the disc and switched off his equipment. "Well --what did you think?"
"It's what I don't like about Kurosawa," she replied. "The characters don't seem real -- and they're always shouting at each other. Real people don't communicate like that."
"It's because Kurosawa's films are about larger-than-life figures. It's stylized."
"It's like the difference between an epic and a novel," she replied. "I prefer novels to epics."
Keith pondered. "You know, I guess you're right. I never considered it that way. At any rate, you'll see the connection when we watch Star Wars." '
"When are we doing that?"
"How about tomorrow night?"
Jenna smiled broadly. "I'd love it."
"How are you feeling?"
"Fine."
"No reaction?"
She shook her head. "Nope. Nothing out of the ordinary."
He looked at his watch. "I suppose we should get you home."
"I'm having such a good time, Keith. I wish it weren't ten-thirty."
"I wish you could stay." He glanced into her eyes. "Why can't you? You have your insulin with you. Call your mom and tell her you're staying."
"She won't like that."
"You're an adult, Jenna. You can set your own schedule."
"I'd need an excuse."
"No, you don't."
"It'll be easier if I had one."
"Then -- I'll give you one. Tell her I'm having car trouble." He pondered a moment. "She wouldn't come get you -- would she?"
"No -- she has vision problems and can't drive after dark. It's one reason she only works part time these days."
"Okay -- tell her I have car trouble and it's too late to get it fixed."
Jenna took out her iPhone and placed the call. "Hello, Mom? It's me. Mom -- I'm not coming home tonight..." She listened. "Well -- Keith's car is having trouble..." She looked up. "What kind of trouble?" she mouthed, silently.
"The battery's dead. It's been getting weak and tonight it gave up the ghost."
"His battery's dead..."
"It's too late for triple-A. I'll get a boost and take it over to Pep Boys in the morning."
"Did you hear that? He said he'll get it fixed first thing in the morning..." She looked up again. "What time?"
"I can have you home by nine -- ten at the latest."
"Ten in the morning at the latest."
"Tell her I have a guest room and that I know how to take care of you."
"Keith has a guest room," she said into the phone. "His mom has diabetes and he knows how to take care of me. I'll be fine, so don't worry." She listened more. "Okay, Mom. Ten." She poked the screen and fanned her face. "I hate lying to her. It made me hot and sweaty."
"But, did she buy it?"
"She bought it. She works tomorrow so she said she'll call at ten to make sure I'm okay. She'll call the house that is."
"You really have to cut those apron strings."
"Well, I'm staying, but I don't have anything to wear to bed."
"How about one of my shirts? I think a girl in a guy's shirt is appealing."
"Okay ... I have to do my bedtime routine ... and you get to watch me."
"Bedtime routine?"
"Fingerstick, shot, snack."
"Ah yes. I remember the bedtime snack." Keith stepped into his bedroom. He returned with a light blue, long-sleeved, button-down collar shirt. "Slip into this. You can use my room."
Jenna returned, barefoot and wearing Keith's shirt. She had rolled up the sleeves. He scanned her up and down. "Wow! Wowie-wow! I KNEW you had great-looking legs, Jenna -- they're long and sweet."
She retrieved her kit from her bag. Keith watched as she swabbed her finger with an alcohol wipe and jabbed it with a lancet. She squeezed out a drop of blood onto a test strip, slipped it into her meter and put her finger in her mouth. "I've been doing this four times a day, lately."
"Do you ever get tired of it? Discouraged?"
"Do I ever! There are times I'm tempted to chuck it all away and let nature take its course. Something keeps me going, though."
"I'm glad for that."
At least I'm a fast healer. Otherwise I'd run out of fingers."
"What's the reading?"
"Perfectly normal," she replied. "Ninety two. What's for snack?"
"What do you usually have?"
"Oh -- a cookie or something."
"How about toast with peanut butter?"
"Mmm. I'm just in the mood for that. And, a glass of milk."
"How about hot chocolate?"
"I would but I need to avoid refined sugar, especially at bedtime."
"I'll get it ready. Maybe I'll join you."
Keith put bread in his toaster and pushed the lever. He watched Jenna retrieve her vial of insulin from the refrigerator. She drew some from the bottle using a slender, disposable syringe. Then, she swabbed the outside of her thigh, pinched her skin and poked in the needle. With a quick press on the plunger she was done, replacing the needle guard on the syringe and slipping it into her case.
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