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Week one is over, and so far, so good.
She did such a good job that I actually told Tori to tuck a bonus into her paycheck. Granted, hand writing the little note, and stuffing it into the envelope when Tori wasn’t looking wasprobablya bit much. Honestly, I don’t even know what came over me. I guess I just wanted to ensure that Seraphine felt appreciated so that she didn’t quit. Tori had told me that she’d been steps away from leaving on her first day and I can’t afford to have her quit because having her help has been invaluable to me this week.
Having an assistant not only allowed me to get caught up on work, I was able to deal with problematic long-distance clients that needed my own personal touch to calm them down. Thanks to Seraphine, I’ve been able me to leave the office at a reasonable hour and be home more for Lilly.Thatis what’s most important to me. And if Seraphine continues to be able to handle the tasks that I throw at her, then that makes her the perfect assistant for me. Hell, I’ll even reconsider helping repair that dilapidated old cottage she bought. I’m justsorelieved to have some of the more menial tasks taken off my and Tori’s plates so that we can catch up on company business.
The past week has been nice, and I almost hesitate to let myself feel like it has beentoonice. I’ve caught myself smiling at Seraphine when she wasn’t looking, and I’ve even caught myself watching her while she works. She reminds me a lot of my late wife and that isn’t something that I am comfortable with.
Bella was an artist too—a damn good one. She used to paint murals back home in DC—not the illegal graffiti ones, but the kind that businesses paid big bucks to commission her to do on the sides of their buildings. I close my eyes and think about the time that she took Lilly with her to paint a mural in downtown DC. Lilly was so thrilled to be a part of it, and Bella even let her add her signature to the wall.
The very last mural that Bella painted was on the side of my very own company headquarters. It was a stunning, fantastical piece that represented her, Lilly, and me, except that instead of being a realistic portrait, we were all painted as her interpretation of what we would look like as software programs. It was creatively genius, and I think that is where Lilly gets all of her creative talent from. She certainly doesn’t get it from me. I function completely on the other side of the brain.
But there is something about Seraphine that she shares with people like Bella and Lilly. I don’t know much of anything about her at all, but yet I can see that she isn’t cut out to be an office assistant. Don’t get me wrong, she’s beengreatso far. But she’sdifferent.
She won’t take notes on the laptop and insists on handwriting them instead. And then, when she hands them to me to look at, there are the most adorably ridiculous doodles all down the margins. Bella used to do that too. She would doodle on every cocktail napkin, coffee cup sleeve, and subway map that she could get her hands on.
Still, Iwon’tlet myself sink into caring about another woman. I can’t go through that kind of pain again. My focus is on my daughter and her alone.
Over the weekend, I spend time with Lilly. She shows me her new recital piece and I clap until my palms hurt. We do all of her favorite things—walk in the park picking wildflowers, stop to take “dance selfies”, and have hot cocoa and movie nights. Regardless of how I feel about having my neighbor as my employee, or how uneasy and uncomfortable I feel with the unearthed emotions that Seraphine seems to be drawing out of me simply by being around her, the bottom line is that it is allowing me to have this time and these special moments with Lilly—unfettered by work responsibilities. For that, I will overlook my personal level of discomfort.
“How is your new assistant working out, dad?” Lilly asks as we get ready to pop the second movie into the DVD player for our movie marathon night.
“Good,” I say without elaboration.
“It seems like you are happier this week.”
“I am,” I say, pressing play on the movie so that we don’t need to continue this line of conversation. “I’m happier because I have help getting things done at the office and that means that I can spend more time at home with you.”
“Are yousurethat’s the only reason?” Lilly asks.
I look over at her and see a mischievous grin on her face.
“Of course it is. What other reason would there be?”
“Is shepretty?”
“Lilly, please.”
She giggles and then we snuggle up under the blankets. I’ve even made popcorn for the occasion—double salted with a dash of cinnamon, just how her mom used to like it.
Tomorrow, it’s back to work and back to school for the both of us. But for tonight, I get to enjoy a rare moment of detaching from reality and simply enjoying a movie marathon with my daughter. Sometimes when she laughs, she reminds me so much of her mother that it almost feels like Bella is still here.
And sometimes, when I catch Seraphine smiling while doodling in the margins of meeting notes, I get that same feeling too.
But I should have known that after a few good days, always comesthe fall.
Monday morning, while I am hours-deep into a conference call with Seraphine sitting beside me notetaking at the speed of light, Tori comes into my office unannounced.
Torinevercomes into my office unannounced unless there is a dire emergency. When I look up at her face, I instantly know that whatever has happened isbad.
“I’m going to need to end this meeting early,” I say, almost hitting the “leave meeting” button before I’ve finished my sentence.
“What is it?” I ask Tori. She looks paler than usual.
From the corner of my eye, I can see Seraphine setting down her notebook almost as if it is in slow motion.
Tori opens her mouth, but no words come out. That’s how I know that whatever news she is bringing isdevastating.
“Tori,what is it?” I ask again as I stand up from my desk.
