A Room With A View

Chapter Twenty-Nine - David

October 2nd, Monday

It had been two weeks since David had quit his job. He hadn't been able to go back after storming out of George's office, so he'd gone straight home and waited until Tanya was done with the school day. He'd told her the news in one big burst of breath. She'd smiled and hugged him. David had carried that hug with him through the next fourteen days, falling back on the feeling of Tanya's arms around him whenever his resolve crumbled to dust.

Today was his final day. It should have been last Friday, but since David had missed the entirety of the 18th, he'd needed to come in and finish up last minute items. So he scrawled out his final signature, placed the form in his outbox, and leaned back in his chair.

That was it. That was the end.

He idly picked up the paperweight the company had given him for his twentieth anniversary and passed it back and forth between his hands. His name was etched in the side. The font was sans serif, which David had felt was a tad unprofessional, but at least it hadn't been comic sans.

Tacked to the wall behind him, however, was the certificate Alice had typed up for his ten-year anniversary. It had been written in the bubbly comic sans. She'd painstakingly punched out every letter on the keyboard with one finger, her small hands not yet big enough to reach all the keys at once. Alice had given it to him at the surprise party Tanya had thrown. It had been a blow-out of a party. Phineas had even knocked on their door, asking them to keep it down. The ten-year mark was meant to be a celebration. David had always promised both Tanya and himself that he would stay in the business for ten years, earning money and reputation, before leaving for a career that earned him something much more substantial. But another ten years had ticked by, and then another ten after that, and Alice's paper certificate had yellowed and crinkled.

David dropped the paperweight back into his inbox. It fell with a heavy thud. He turned and carefully unpinned Alice's certificate from the wall. He laid it in a Manila folder and set it in the bottom of the cardboard box that was meant to hold thirty years' of his life. He quietly packaged up everything else of value, and left the paperweight on his desk. Let it weigh down the sheafs of someone else's life.

David stood, and picked up the box with one hand, resting it against his hip. He looked around at his office. There was the window that looked out over the East River, the A/C unit that rattled in the summer, the leather chair that grew more dented as he'd aged, and the tiny hole tucked behind the new cabinet, where he'd once played darts with his coworkers, a long time ago.

There was a knock at the door. Without waiting for a response, Joshua opened it and stepped inside.

"Hey," he said, running a hand through his hair.

"Hello," David answered. He glanced up at the clock over the door. It was five past five.

"So this is it," Joshua continued.

David nodded. The box was beginning to dig into his side. He hiked it further up on his hip.

Joshua held out his hand. David sighed, set down the box, and shook Joshua's hand.

"It's been great working with you," Joshua said formally.

"And with you," David said. "Although I imagine you're thrilled I'm leaving. I hear you're to be my replacement."

Joshua smiled quickly, then adjusted his features into something more solemn.

"I heard that too. But that doesn't mean I'm not still sad to see you go."

David harrumphed, and picked up his box.

"Well, I expect I'll be seeing you around the Watley," David said, by way of goodbye.