“So, don’t be mad . . .”
“Harper . . .”
“I’m sorry,” they said amid finishing their Samurai bun. “I had to tell him. Did you really think Myko wouldn’t be curious as to why you were taking sick leave for the first time in over five years? He probably thought you were dying.”
Reesa leaned back against her pillows, gave silent thanks that these were her own and not hospital property, and scowled at Harper.
Her friend, who was sitting cross-legged at the opposite end of the bed, threw up their hands. “I don’t regret it. Seriously, Reesa, if I’d known you were this bad off, I would’ve said something sooner.”
“I’m not bad off. I just have a little case of burnout.”
“Little? From what Tamara told me, the word ‘little’ is an understatement.” They looked like they planned to say more, but a chirp from their phone distracted them. “Aww, Wei needs help moving out. I’ve got to go. Look, talk to Myko about what brought this on. Be your own best advocate.”
She reveled in the hug that came next before cotton sheets reclaimed her. The sound of Harper closing the door behind them prefaced a long quiet. Glancing around, she allowed herself to survey the surroundings. It was strange to her, but she’d spent most of the last five years in this room without really seeing it. She now had a chance thanks to Tamara.
Because of her little sister, Reesa’s papers and laptop were put away on their father’s old desk, rendering her bed only a bed and not a workstation. Reesa’s phone was in a drawer in the kitchen, all the better to make sure she took real breaks.
In the living room at the front of the house, Tamara had set up camp to study so that they wouldn’t disturb each other. And in the room next door, she knew Hazel slept with one eye open, the fright from Reesa’s collapse having made her hypervigilant. Altogether, there was no immediate claim on her attention, and she loved it.
Nestling further into her pillows, she drifted off to sleep. The descent felt so good that she made no resistance. In this deep, she had no inkling that in the next few hours, she’d get a second visitor.
***
“You!”
The shrill sound of Hazel shouting woke Reesa from her slumber and put her on high alert. Still too weak to move, she strained her ears to listen.
“You’re the reason my baby got sick. You and your selfish, entitled rich boy antics.”
Reesa prayed that Hazel wasn’t talking to her employer.
“It’s some nerve you’ve got, coming here after you ran my daughter ragged.”
Reesa moaned, then forced herself awake. “Tammy, please bring Myko back here to see me!”
At this request, the number of people in the room grew by three. Tamara, who looked like she wanted to opt out, came in first. Following close behind her was Myko who, despite how her mother greeted him, looked ecstatic to see her. Finally, Hazel brought up the rear, sporting a world class glare and holding her cane like a sword.
“Mareesa,” Myko said, his expression cycling between relief and concern. “How have you been?”
“Better, no thanks to you.”
“Mama!”
“Nuh-uh. He doesn’t get to waltz in here pretending to care after taking advantage of you,” Hazel said. On this note, she rounded on Myko.
“Reesa’s loyal and never complains, but I’ve had a chance to see how much you ask of her since she’s been sick. Her phone practically blew up in the hospital. All these people, wanting to speak to you or for you, were breathing down her neck like their lives depended on it. There were messages about everything from your dry cleaning to your meeting minutes.”
“Mama, please,” Tamara and Reesa said in tandem.
Hazel proceeded as though they hadn’t spoken. “I don’t know much about you, Mykonos Sartori, but I do know my child. I know she believes in making sacrifices for the people she cares about, and while I don’t get it, I think she cares about you. That’s the only logical explanation for why she’s been twisting herself up in knots since your divorce got splashed on the news. I can tell you right now, Ebenezer, she’s sure not staying for the pay.”
“Mama, please, try to calm down,” Reesa said, clutching at her bedcovers while she gazed at her dauntless defender.
Notwithstanding the energy of her words, Hazel’s speech carried hallmarks of fatigue. Still, she remained defiant. “I’m not leaving you here with him alone.”
“Why don’t we sit on my bed?” Tamara said. Without waiting for Hazel to reply, she got them both situated there.
“If you want you can sit at the desk,” Reesa told Myko.
Hazel scoffed. “Not in my house.”
“I’ll stand, thank you, Mareesa,” he said.
She noticed then that his arms were filled with parcels. “What have you got there?”
“It better not be work,” Hazel said.
Tamara murmured her agreement.
“It’s not, I assure you both,” Myko said, sparing a glance for the others before answering Reesa’s question. “These are presents, to express my gratitude and contrition. And there are more where the physical ones came from.” He inclined his head toward her nightstand. “May I put them down?”
“Sure,” Reesa said. “But you didn’t have to get me anything.”
“He most certainly did.”
“Thank you, Mama,” she said more loudly than she needed to.
As he bent to put down the parcels, Myko was obliged to get close to the bedside, and Reesa looked approvingly at his tied-back hair and jawline before internally scolding herself for noticing.
“Your mother is correct, on several fronts,” he said when he was upright. “While you were out of the office, I did some housekeeping. To my dismay, I realized we never formally discussed your increase in workload or the terms of compensation.”
“You’ve been preoccupied,” she said without forethought.
“You’re too kind. Literally, too kind. I owe you in every sense of the word. But before we get into that, I need one more favor—”
“Excuse you?” Hazel interrupted.
“It’s not big or work-related, signora,” he said. “All I want is what Mareesa gives me naturally. The truth.”
Feeling confused, Reesa watched as he knelt so they could be face-to-face.
“Tell me,” Myko said, his voice quick and earnest. “What have these past months been like for you?”
The words ‘I’ve been fine’ almost slipped out, but his desire for honesty stopped them. “I’ve been struggling,” she said. “I think about resigning all the time.”
Nodding, Myko stood again. “I suggest you skip the office party this year and, when you’re ready, let me know when you’re up for a meeting. In the meantime, there’ll be a lot of back pay ahead of your Christmas bonus.”
The vagueness of all this alarmed her. “Wait, what are we meeting about?”
“The future,” Myko said. And with a second nod, this time to her family, he took his leave from the room.