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When I am leaving the office, I hear Rohit, one of the finance guys, talking to his assistant about calling a courier to take a document over to Simon. He hasn’t been at work for two days. I am not sure what’s going on, but now I see a perfect opening for me to find out.
I walk over to his door. “Hey, I am headed up that way, I can drop the documents off for Simon for you if you’d like. I actually have some questions for him myself I didn’t get a chance to email this afternoon.” This is a lie.
Rohit doesn’t even blink as he says, “Oh, that would be great, Addie. These documents are sensitive. We trust the courier, but it would be great to know they are in our lawyer’s hands as they travel across the city.”
Oh, if he only knew.
He hands he a huge envelope and smiles his thanks.
“No problem, Rohit. I’m happy to help.”
I take the envelope and dump it in my bag. I try to sound casual as I ask for Simon’s address. His assistant opens a screen on her computer and shoots me a text message with the information. And just like that, I am on my way.
On the train ride over, I am sick with nerves. I can’t believe I am doing this. Simon is probably going to be pissed I am invading his privacy like this. He won’t buy my “it was on my way” bullshit I fed Rohit. He knows where I live and knows it’s actually very much out of my way. I am being stupid and impulsive, but I am filled with a feeling very close yearning to see Simon in his “father” role.
I knock on his door. While standing on the door step, I feel the urge to bolt. What the hell am I thinking? What he refuses to let me in?
Oh my God. I am an idiot.
Just as I start to turn and run for the stairs, the door opens and a middle aged, stout woman with a huge smile on her dark, unlined face answers the door. I step back to look at the number on the door. 5S. I definitely have the right flat.
“Uh, hello. Is Simon here?” I ask, hoping that I don’t sound like the stalker I am.
She ushers me in with a warm smile, and says, “Oh yes, dear, come in, come in. Simon’s here. He is in the shower, dear.” Her lilting West African accent reminds so much of my mother’s that for a second, I feel sad.
“Dear, are you a friend of Simon’s?” she says when I don’t say anything.
“Oh, no! I mean… I work with him. He isn’t expecting me. I just came to drop something off. I can just leave it for him.” I say, in a rush as I try to regain my composure.
“Oh, no dear, come in. Have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?”
“Uh… no. I won’t stay. Really.”
She gently, but forcibly, guides me to one of the beautiful couches in Simon’s huge living room.
“No, dear. Sit. You can’t leave. I never meet Simon’s friends. So you work with him? You’re an architect, too?”
She looks so excited I don’t have the heart to keep protesting.
“No. I’m a lawyer.”She claps in delight. Her eyes lighting up as if I said I was the Virgin Mary. “Oh, wonderful! And you’re so pretty, too!”
Since I don’t know what to say, I smile at her dumbly.
If she notices my idiotic expression she doesn’t say anything. She grabs my hand and pulls me up to standing.
“Come meet Henry.” And she shoves me—literally—toward a crib in the middle of the room and inside is cutest little marshmallow of a baby. He’s wearing a blue and brown baby outfit covering his fat legs and chubby arms, and he’s waving both of those appendages vigorously as he lays there making these adorable gurgling sounds. His big brown eyes are full of mirth and mischief, making my heart melts instantly.
“This is Henry.” she says with pride lacing her voice.
“Oh, he is beautiful.” My voice is full of wonder. I am mesmerized and stand there staring at h
im.
Her next words break my reverie.
“I’m glad you’re here, actually. I have to leave and he is still in the shower. That boy uses enough water to drown a whale!”
At this, I turn to look at her, my earlier anxiety at being thrown out turning into full blown alarm at being left alone with his nephew by this woman who is clearly off her rocker. I mean she would have to be to leave a baby alone with me.
