A Degree in Murder

Chapter Twelve: Holiday

Most people viewed being suspended as a bad thing and most times it invariably was. Although her case was the exception to the rule, Eleanor did not share the sentiment one bit. Her perfect and unblemished track record had been tainted which was more than punishment enough for her. The money did not matter to her at all because she had always been very prudent with her spending.

No use dwelling on it now. The only thing I can do now is try to enjoy my impromptu holiday.

Eleanor sat up in her bed, glanced at the clock on her nightstand and smiled. I can't remember the last time I slept in. She finally got out of bed, showered and changed into her comfort clothes: a white sweatshirt and a pair of rhino gray sweatpants. She strolled down the corridor and turned into the kitchen where the sweet smell of breakfast permeated through the air.

"That smells delicious, Susan. What's on the menu today?" asked Eleanor, taking her seat.

"I have prepared pancakes as well as a sausage and egg casserole. The coffee should be ready any minute now," replied Susan, serving the pancakes.

"Wow, I didn't know we had all the ingredients for this."

"You had most of them but I took the liberty of ordering the rest. I hope I didn't overstep my bounds, ma'am."

"Don't worry about that. I trusted you with that credit card for this particular reason. I just hope all this food won't go to the wrong places," said Eleanor, clutching at her hips.

"I can always prepare something more health-"

"Please don't do that. Anything but that," cried Eleanor, leaping out of her chair to shield the food. This drew a rare smile from Susan. Eleanor washed her hands, returned to her seat and began eating her breakfast while Susan went about her cleaning duties. When she was done eating, Eleanor washed the dishes. When Susan began to protest, Eleanor waved them off. "I don't want to feel completely useless while I'm at home."

Once she was done, Eleanor let Debbie into the house and headed to the living room. She grabbed the remote and plopped down on the couch while Debbie curled herself on a pillow on her left. What to watch. What to watch. It had been a while since she sat down in front of a TV for more than an hour. There were only so many books one could read to kill one month. She ran a quick internet search for the hottest new series. When she found something mildly interesting, she searched for it on streamazon. Susan walked into the room and placed a glass of orange juice on a coaster. She glanced over at Eleanor and realized something important.

"Ma'am, isn't that shirt a few sizes too large for you? I can get one that's a better fit."

"Don't bother yourself, Susan. I'm quite comfortable as you can see," replied Eleanor, taking a sip of her orange juice.

"Doesn't it belong to Mr-?"

"Le... Let's not mention that name in this house please," said Eleanor, nearly choking on her drink.

"But you're wearing his shirt despite returning all the other things he left here," said Susan, failing to follow her boss's reasoning.

"I don't necessarily regret what happened. It could have ended better but it is what it is. This is more than a shirt. It represents all the memories, both good and bad, that were made during that time. Most importantly, it's the most comfortable thing I own and comfort is what I seek now."