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That might be the messiest desk I’ve ever seen. The cleaning ghosts apparently haven’t bothered with Via’s stuff, because she has papers and all sorts of colorful pens scattered around her desk. And as if there is an invisible line right down the middle of the table, my side is completely empty and clean.
A little mess never hurt anyone though.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s nice to see a little mess here.” I smile, trying to make her feel less self-conscious about the whole thing.
“Thank you! Finally, someone gets it. Everyone here is too clean and organized. I can’t stand it.”
I nod, pulling out my office chair. “It is a bit unsettling how clean all the desk areas are. Is that a mandate here?”
Via plops into her chair and turns on her computer. “The CEO prefers we keep a clean space because they’re going for a minimalist look, but there is nothing minimalist about me. I am chaos and disarray down to my bones. Thankfully, I am a wonderful assistant, so Tracy just puts up with my shit.”
“And if you’re her assistant...what will I be doing?”
Via pushes aside a stack of papers, tugging on a turquoise notebook trapped underneath some books.
“You’ll be covering events, but Tracy will go over all of that with you once she gets in.” Via grunts, struggling to set the notebook free.
Taking a quick look around our spacious office, I can’t help but notice the various miniature fake pots and tiny cereal boxes scattered across Via's already-cluttered desk. It seems like she is a big fan of trinkets, and I wonder if she collects them herself or if someone has a penchant for buying them for her. It seems foreign to me, that some people have loved ones in their lives who care about them so much that they would think of them when passing by a small, fake cactus plant, prompting them to step into a shop and purchase it just to see them smile.
Aaron has done something similar for me a couple of times. However, it was my parents who used to do that for him constantly. They were always concerned with making him happy or lifting him out of his sad moods. Whatever Aaron desired, he would receive, even things he didn't particularly want. It became clear to me early on that my parents loved him more. In fact, my father had no problem telling me that I was a complete mistake and my mother had been on the verge of aborting me. They had actually been sitting at the abortion clinic when she’d had a change of heart, and they’d walked out without looking back.
He told me that on a rainy day after he finished yelling at me over getting a detention slip. I’ll never forget how those words changed me. How they made me not want to exist.
“My grandmother painted me that. She was such a talented artist.” Via’s voice snaps me into reality, and I realize I was zoned out, staring at a small, purple butterfly painting propped up on a metal easel close to her computer screen.
Of course, of all the things, it’s a butterfly.
“It is beautiful, Via. I love butterflies so much. I’m sorry for your loss.”
Via’s brows raise up in surprise. Either she’s pissed or surprised I caught the was in her sentence. She glances down at her keyboard before looking up at me with glassy eyes.
“Thank you. I miss her every day.”
I nod, wanting to get out of my seat and give her a hug, but as always, I second-guess myself and stay pinned to my chair.
“It’s okay. You don’t need to look so sad. I love talking about her. Keeps her spirit alive. She lived an amazing, full, and successful life. A life many of us could only dream of.”
Smiling, I nod, truly feeling happy for a woman I’ve never even met. But there is something to be said about someone who achieves it all in their lifetime. Isn’t that what everyone hopes to have? Aren’t we all just praying we make it to the other side of this thing we call life unscathed and in one piece? I’m happy Via’s grandmother got to experience it all. The good with some bad.
“That’s a great way to look at it.”
“I know. You’re going to find out real soon that I’m kind of amazing. You’re going to want to keep me around.”
A laugh bursts from my mouth, and Via looks at me with surprise, her eyes lighting up.
“Oh my God! You do laugh. I was seriously worried you were AI or just the most depressed person on the planet.”
Not sure why, but that sends me into an even bigger fit of laughter. Maybe it’s her candor or the fact that she’s unapologetically herself, but there is a certain comfort knowing Via is likely not putting on a fake front just so she can turn around and talk shit behind my back.
Once the laughing dies down, Via tips her chin at the butterfly painting on her desk.
“So, why butterflies?”
I let out a soft breath. “They’ve always fascinated me. I love how they start out as one thing and completely transform into something entirely new. No one remembers the old version of them, probably not even themselves. Once they burst out of their cocoon, they are completely reborn. No reminders of their past life as a caterpillar. They go from slithering to flying. How beautiful is that? They just get to begin again with wings, out of all the things. A glorious second chance.”
“Wow. That was deep as fuck.”
“It’s wasn’t, I just like butterflies,” I scoff.
