Sharon stepped into her house and was greeted by complete silence. Her husband had already left for work, but he had left a note on the table for her: call me and let me know how the appointment went. She called him while clicking through an online newspaper on the Internet.
"It went well. I still have 3 follicles, my E2 looked good and I'm triggering tonight...Fuck."
"Fuck? I thought that's what we wanted," Darren said.
"No, I'm reading the newspaper while we talk--sorry--and I just saw that a murder took place at the Starbucks where I was going to stop. A woman was crowing all about her pregnancy and how she wasn't even trying and a pack of infertile women scalded her to death with steaming hot white chocolate mochas."
"That's awful," Darren muttered. Sharon heard the sound of computer keys clicking in the background.
"Glad I didn't stop. But I have to go now."