She shrugged like it was no big deal and picked up the bag. “You don’t like poppyseed? Your loss. I’ll take it.”
“You’re fired.”
She blinked. “I’m sorry, what, now?”
She didn’t understand. The rational side of my brain knew that, but I was no longer in the business of being rational. Those days were gone. If I’d learned anything about myself in the last four years, it was the realization that I was an asshole. But I didn’t care.
Stiffening myself for the messiness that was to come, I pulled in a breath and told myself to be brutal.
“I don’t need you to predict me. And the last thing I want is spontaneity. You overstepped your position. Which signals a red flag in our working relationship. I can’t have that. I’m sorry, but you’re fired.”
“Over a bagel?”
I could hear the incredulousness in her tone. Yes, it was ridiculous. It had been nothing. A gesture.
It wasn’t the goddamn bread. It’s what it represented. First a bagel, then maybe lunch. Then the questions would start.
How are you today?
Good weekend?
What are your plans for the holidays?
How did your wife die?
Civility and order would turn into friendship and caring and…some twisted form of sympathy I didn’t deserve.
“It’s not the bagel. Obviously. It’s the…red flag.”
She nodded slowly as she accepted the news.
I would miss this about her. Her lack of drama. Her absolute steadfastness in the face of any situation.
There would be no tears, no begging for her job.
As she stood there, looking at me, I couldn’t imagine what was spinning through her head, because she didn’t show it on her face.
“Okay,” she began slowly. “Well, I’ve thought about it for a half a second and I reject your firing.”
She would say goodbye, pack up her handful of personal items in the other office and leave without another word.
I’d have to find a new assistant. Or maybe not. Maybe trying to work again had all been a colossal…
“Wait, what?” I said, clearly mishearing. “What did you say?”
She smiled, opened the brown bag, and pulled out the baked bagel covered in tiny black poppyseeds, and took a bite.
Then she had the audacity to moan in order to signal its deliciousness.
When she was done chewing, she popped the rest of the bagel back into the bag and wiped her hand on her hip.
“I reject being fired,” she repeated. “Clearly, you’re in a mood. Because nobody fires anyone over a kind gesture. Let’s just move beyond that. You’re probably not ready for your morning schedule, so we’ll skip that. And I’ll pull The List from our shared drive. Oh, and your loss on the bagel. Poppy seed is delicious.”
She plucked the brown bag off my desk, left my office and quietly closed the door behind her.
I looked around the empty room.
My desk was the same. My double monitors continued to reflect back the information I’d been looking at a moment ago. I checked the clock in the corner of the monitor. Only a few minutes had passed.
