From the moment I woke the next day, I started taking Rebecca more seriously.  The previous night made me feel like a terrible person for not believing her and it hit home.  She was going through a lot and was hurt that I didn’t even believe her.  When we had first got together, I promised myself I would never do anything to hurt her, and I’d done just that.  Thankfully, she was gone at work when I woke and didn’t have to see me waking, in tears because of that realization.  But, the realization would prove to be inspiration.  I would make sure of that. 

I spent the entire “morning” focusing on what she thought and how I could help verify whether she was right or not.  If I was getting shorter, surely there would be some obvious factors, even for me.  So I brainstormed and thought of what I could do.  At least, until it was time for me to leave and head back in for work.  So, I gathered my thoughts and planned to brainstorm even more throughout the night with the lack of calls coming in.  I traveled to work, and would do everything I could to plan this out.  For her. 

When I got there, I wasn’t surprised to see no receptionist, once again.  She should be here, but she’s not at her desk.  I thought about her, but I kept it out of my mind so I could focus on Rebecca’s worries about my height.  So, I went straight back to the office and got clocked in to prepare.  Like I’d hoped, there were very little calls coming in, so I had nothing to worry about with not having the time to prepare.  So, I got out a notepad and began to jot down my ideas for being able to help seek out Rebecca’s claims. 

It took some time to think of much I could do right then and there.  But, by the time my break came around, I did think of a few things.  So, on my break, I left work and ran down to the general store just down the road.  Cycling through aisle after aisle after aisle, I got some supplies and brought them back to the office.  It was going to be a little odd to see in my office, but it was something I wished to do anyways.  After clocking back in from my break, I switched over to a wireless headset and began hammering nails into the rear wall. 

Time went by again and again and again, and I kept hammering in nails and hanging my supplies up on the wall.  After nearly 2 hours, I took a step back and looked at my work.  There was now a collection of bulletin boards lined up the wall about 6 feet high, each overlapping one another and carved out to look like one tall board.  I carefully traced my finger over it to make sure everything was stable and wouldn’t move until I backed myself up against it.  I closed my eyes and thought to myself.  ‘This should work.  I hope’.  I then let a box cutter glide over the top of my head and create a punctured line in the board. 

It wasn’t until my lunch break that I had completed this task.  My goal was that I would made markings for my height every day at work.  That way, if I really was getting shorter, it would be clearly obvious that I was.  The engravings would ensure that my markings could never be tampered with or erased.  It wasn’t anything immediate, but it was definitely a start. 

I was about to move back to my desk and clock out for lunch when there was a knock at my door.  Surprised, I set my headset down and answered it.  Despite the tension I should have felt, things were more comfortable than that.  Slowly opening the door, I found the good doctor right at my door with two glasses in hand, asking to come in.  I looked back, realizing that there was a spare chair so I let her in, seeing that she hadn’t forgotten our habit of meeting each day for lunch.  This was the first time she had actually come to my office for this, though.  I was surprised she even knew where my office was. 

We began our lunch when she asked about the boards up on the back wall.  I looked at them and sighed.  Then, I looked to her and began telling her that I was trying to measure and that this was about the worries of getting shorter.  I tried to avoid mentioning Rebecca, given the reaction from the last time I had mentioned it to her.  The doctor set down her cup and looked over at the board.  Then looked back at me and let out a sigh of her own. 

She then reached forward and pressed her hand on my shoulder, as if trying to console me about it.  “Why the trouble?  You know people don’t get shorter.”  She then got up and walked over to the boards, eyeing the engraving I’d made.  I did get her point.  She’s right.  People don’t get shorter.  It’s silly to think about, isn’t it?  No.  Not when someone I love is so dearly worried about me.  That made this worth the trouble.  I would do anything to ensure Rebecca that everything was fine, and proof of me not getting shorter was the only way I could do that.  Unless, of course, I really was getting shorter.  I had to know, for her. 

When the doctor came back over, I explained the circumstances to her.  She just shook her head at me, like I was some sort of crazy person.  “You sound like a case of an over-stressed person.  Or maybe she is, or both of you.  You know what, I’m gonna give you some extra spices for your tea, okay?  It’ll help with the stress.  There’s no need to go out of your way for some fantasy about getting shorter.” 

With that, she added an extra pack of spices to my tea that she’d held in her pocket up to this point.  Afterwards, she just left, without saying a word, slamming the door behind her.  I winced at the slam, and began thinking deeply.  Was I going off the deep end?  Was Rebecca?  I didn’t know.  But, I needed to do this for Rebecca, didn’t I?  I kept telling myself that as I drank some more of the tea.  I needed to take away those worries.  I belonged to Rebecca, and she with me.  I’m there to help her, and that’s what I was going to do.  Even if my office looked odd.