14. Diana
Few things in my life have felt as painful as watching this first year associate from our firm mumble his way through our presentation and findings, desperately rifling through paperwork for the correct contracts—and I’ve been through a very messy and painstaking divorce.
But the frustration running through my veins at watching someone who went through three years of school for something that comes so easily to me is incredible.
“Max?” Edgar asks, clearly sharing my frustration. “I thought you were prepared for this,” he whispers.
Max, a baby-faced twenty-something year-old, looks like he’s two seconds away from a panic attack. “I-I was. I am. I just need to find this one file that—”
I can’t take this anymore.
“Um. If I may. I believe what you’re looking for is the initial construction agreement with the builders?
I have a copy in my folder if you’d like to see it while Max looks for the original.
” I slide the contract across the conference room table to my boss, the company’s own internal legal team, and Jonathan Bloom, our big fish.
The one who insisted on seeing us in person.
Edgar sighs in relief and smiles. “Thank you, Miss Castillo. And now, Mr. Bloom, you can see that we’ve adjusted this clause, as per your request—but we also added this consideration.”
I smile to myself as I look out the conference room window over Edgar and Mr. Bloom’s shoulders, a wave of appreciation for Michael crashing over me. There would have been no way I would be here without his help.
The view from the seventieth floor is magnificent and unlike anything I’ve ever seen.
Definitely a different kind of view than the ones you get from the Colorado mountains but still just as awe-inspiring.
My mind drifts for a moment to the sheer amount of engineering and architectural talent, to the decades of innovation that it took to create one of the most legendary skylines.
But my whole world comes to a halt with the chilling sound of a notification from my daughter’s CGM app.
I gasp and pull my phone from my purse, chills covering every inch of my skin as I read the banner across my phone: “Urgent - Low Glucose”
“Excuse me,” I mutter, pushing away from the table, knocking the chair over.
My heart beats so loud in my chest, I can barely hear Edgar’s words or process his concerned expression. All I know is I need to call Michael now, and I need to know how my daughter is doing.
I search for his contact in the hallway just outside the conference room, cursing myself for making such a colossal mistake. I should never have left them. I should never have left Emi alone with Michael. I should’ve—
“Mami?” Camila’s voice comes through Michael’s phone.
“Cami? Why are you answering Michael’s phone? What’s going on?” Tell me, because I can barely breathe.
I hear Michael’s voice in the background, speaking to my daughter.
“Michael says to tell you that everything is going to be fine. That he’s got it handled.”
“What?” I screech, causing some people passing by me in the hall to shoot some well-deserved looks in my direction. “What do you mean he said he’s got it handled? Let me speak with him right now.”
He’s supposed to be taking care of my girls. He’s the one who offered to do this for me. If he can’t even make sure she’s okay…
“Um,” Cami says to Michael. “She’s yelling. You should probably take the call. She wants to talk to you.”
I hear Michael’s frustrated sigh. Hope he enjoys it, because it will be his last one.
“Put the phone on speaker while I help your sister, please.”
“Help her how? What is he doing to her?” I nearly scream into the phone. I’m two seconds away from jumping out of my skin, from taking the first train, bus, taxi, or helicopter out of here to get to my daughter as soon as possible.
Cami apparently does as she’s asked because I hear Michael say, “Emi’s going to be fine. I’m just helping her sit up right now. We’re checking her pump and monitor.” His voice sounds a bit far from the receiver.
“What the fuck is going on, Michael?”
He gasps. “Whoa. I’ve never heard you curse before.”
“Don’t try to be cute. What is going on? I’ve asked this question about three times too many. In fact, any time is too many. I shouldn’t have to ask it at all. You said you would take care of them. You said that—”
“I was taking care of them. I am.”
“That’s my daughter’s life you’re playing with.”
“Playing with?” He scoffs. “We didn’t calculate how much sitting outside to watch the seal show would affect her and her blood sugar levels.
How the sun would dehydrate her. We were about to hit the cafeteria after the show when it happened.
But everything is fine now. Emi is resting, I gave her some of the candy you had in her backpack and gave it to her like you said to get her blood sugar up quickly, and a cold bottle of water to rehydrate.
Once she feels better, we’re going back home to have real food, and a rot day. ”
“What the hell is a rot day?”
“It’s when you stay home and rot on your couch. Watch TV. Don’t do anything.”
“Mami, I’m fine,” Emi says, her voice faint.
My heart jumps, tears building in my eyes. “Emi? Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes. It was just an accident. But Michael is being super nice, and he’s doing all the right things. Don’t be mad at him, Mami. Or me. It was just an accident,” she repeats.
I stifle a sob. “I’m not mad at you. I just wish…” I just wish things weren’t like this. I just wish I didn’t feel this alone. “I just wish I were there with you.”
“Well, Michael says we’ll see you later this afternoon, so don’t worry about it.”
“Later? No,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m headed home now. Michael, can you drive them to my place, and I’ll meet you there, please? I just need to excuse myself from this meeting and grab my things and—”
“What? No,” Michael says loudly. “Absolutely not. You are not coming home now. Not while you’re still in the middle of this thing.
Not until you’re done with what you went there to do.
” His voice sounds clearer, like he’s taken me off speakerphone, but there must be a problem with the connection because there’s no way he just told me not to come home after what happened.
“Excuse me?”
“Diana, you are not leaving in the middle of this meeting. You told me how important it is, and I am not going to let you mess this up.”
“Michael, my daughter is unwell. I have to go to her.”
“Your daughter is not unwell. At least, not anymore. I did everything you taught me to do and the situation has been handled. Her glucose levels are under control—or on their way—and I will be taking all three girls back to your place so she can rest—where is the spare key hidden by the way?—and you’re going to stay there and wow your boss because you know your shit and are good at what you do. Do you understand?”
“I-I-I can’t,” I stutter, shocked he would even suggest it. “What kind of mother would that make me if I just stay here? A selfish one. An irresponsible one. I can’t just abandon them and—”
“You’re not abandoning your children, Diana. Believe me—I know abandonment. I know this is going to be really difficult for you to hear,” he says, lowering his voice, “but you deserve this. You deserve a career, and you deserve this time, and taking it doesn’t make you a bad mother.”
“But I am! I should be there with Emi, and I should be—”
“First of all, Emi is fine. You were an amazing mother and explained everything I had to do if an emergency situation arose, and I followed your instructions, and things are good. She’s got some color in her, she’s sitting up and talking with the girls.
And like I said, we’re gonna head home, slap on a movie, and everything will be fine.
Second, I’m going to tell you something I’ve heard about a million times since becoming a single parent. ”
“And what’s that?” I sniffle, my heart breaking.
“The fact that you’re even a little bit stressed about what kind of parent you’re being already makes you a far better one than most. And believe me when I say that no one who knows you for even a second would ever dream of thinking you’re subpar.
At anything, really, but especially at this whole parenting thing. ”
I struggle to stifle the soft cries rising through my chest.
“Don’t waste this opportunity. Please. You deserve this, and your kids deserve this. They deserve to see their mother’s success, too. I know this isn’t easy for you, but trust me. Let me be here for you. I want to be here for you so you can succeed.”
His words rock me, a sob I pray he didn’t hear over the phone bursting from my lips.
He waits patiently for my response as I weigh all options in silence.
Finally, I speak: “Okay. Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll stay. But text me every step of the way back. I want a progress report every five minutes.”
I practically hear his dimpled smile over the phone. “Yes, of course.”
“And I want regular updates as soon as you get home, too.”
“Obviously.”
“I mean it!”
“Okay.” He says calmly. “Don’t worry. I got this.”
I blow out a breath. “Yeah. I think you do.”
He chuckles softly.
“Michael?”
“Yeah?”
I sniffle once again. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now tell me where the spare key is.”
I’ve never been one to let go easily, which is why when I hang up with Michael, it takes everything inside me to walk back into that client meeting with my boss and not bolt right out the front door instead.
I squeeze my eyes shut, and press the phone to my forehead, trying to gather myself.
Today is important. This meeting is so important.
For my boss and myself. It’s a chance to prove that I am more than an executive assistant.
It’s a chance to prove to Edgar that he can trust me with things other than scheduling, especially since he’s hiring me as a paralegal.
And Michael was right. While I can say that staying here is selfish, the only reason I’m here, the only reason I took this job to begin with, was for my daughters.
So it’s a good thing.