Divinity and Grace

The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. It was my little chocolate-skinned daughter, Talia, aged nine, and her milk chocolate brother, Russell, eight, in the place where all of his belongings existed. He played video games but she continued to peer out the window.

we called this high-rise luxury apartment in Wilmington, Delaware home.

The dusky morning seemed to emit a foreboding glow just a few feet from where she perched herself. Russell had gone out but she had not stepped into the new world of sparse streets and roving people with face coverings. She removed herself from the window. She ran into my study where I prepared for work. It might have been spring break for them and not issued any classwork to complete at home, but I had to put my shoulder on that wheel.

“Daddy, are you going into the office today?” Talia asked.

“Yes, dearest.”

“Can we come with you?” she questioned further.

Russell paused his game, overheard his sister, and jetted into my home workplace.

“Yeah, Dad. Can we go to the office with you?”

“I really don’t have much of a choice. Your mother hasn’t a clue and all the other sitters are asking for exorbitant prices for just a few hours of watching you.”

“Yay!” the two of them yelped.

In the wake of the tripledemic and a possible chemical attack on the United States, gas masks were not mandatory by the government but instituted by private organizations. I had been out there. It was like walking in a desert but with stoplights and broken beer bottles in the street.

When we had arrived at my office, I noticed that a new placard had been placed on the door. It read my name, Myles Moore, and then under it a title card read, “Chief Financial Officer.”

I wanted to rejoice at this surprising bit of news but I knew better. Either I missed an email or they were waiting for me to return and see it. Talia and Russell flanked me as we entered the office. It was minimalist with glass everywhere and portraits of surreal painters adorning the walls. The carpet was alpaca and my desk was also all glass. My ergonomic chair provided me with the most support. I turned to my children in my chair.

“Daddy has to work now, okay? You each have a tablet to play with and you have wireless headphones. Please be quiet while I conduct business.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

My phone pinged whenever a client was ready to see me. Who needed a receptionist?

In walked Tyshawn Harris. He had a part in his head and stood at least six feet four inches tall. We shook hands and then quickly used sanitizer.

“What do you say we remove these masks? Shall we?” I ask.

“Of course,” Harris said in a low voice.

We breathed and then laughed. He had a long face, freckles, and jade green eyes. Salt and pepper hair covered his light skinned head.

“Now, how may I be of assistance, sir?”

He exhaled heavily. “I am robust and hale. I want to leave something behind, though. I want to leave my four daughters a bit of financial security.”

With the understanding that I was the interim CFO, I felt an obligation to aid this man on his fiscal journey even more.

“What do you know?”

“Excuse me?”

What kind of stocks are you into? Energy, big tech…what?”

“I’ve been studying blue chip stocks. Any of those will do it. I have eight hundred thousand dollars to invest in any or all of them.”

“Okay. That’s definitely something to work with there. I can diversify the companies from manufacturing to retail. I can monitor your account to make sure you get the most out of your investments.”

“Thank you,” Harris said. We raised from our seats and shook hands again, sanitizer followed once more.

“Thanks for stopping by. I appreciate your business.” After that, I would net ten percent on each trade he would make. He seemed like an exemplary individual. I just hope his daughters appreciate it and don’t fight over the money if he predeceases them.

The phone pinged again. The computer system opened the door. I looked at my kids. They were wrapped up in animated series for children. I saw a woman at the door frame who couldn’t have been more than five feet three inches tall.

She removed her mask revealing brown hair and brown skin.

“Mr. Moore?” She asked.

“Yes, please have a seat. Those are my kids. They won’t bother us.”

“Cute little darlings,” she said. She had clear skin.

“I’m Linda Alvarez. I have had the tripledemic. I’m completely cleared of it now. There’s no lingering symptoms or chance I could pass any of the viruses on to you or….” she opened her palm to indicate Russell and Talia.

“Understood. What can I do for you concerning your investments?”

She breathed. “I want to leave something for my little boy. The trifecta of infections may be out of my system but not before they wreaked havoc on my body. My organs were damaged during the time of my illness. The doctors said I have about three years left. I’m seeking your assistance to secure my son’s future.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your predicament, Miss Alvarez.”

“Call me Linda.”

“Linda, I’m going to do everything in my power to ensure that your son’s financial status is in excellent shape.”

She signed some digital copies and transferred nine hundred and eighty dollars over to me to take care of her. My going rate remained the same and held a strange twinge in my stomach that felt like a barbell had plunged my soul downward. It wasn’t about the money, I felt no guilt over that. The feeling arose because of the lives behind money. It would be easy to be the vicious, money-grubbing, dollar sign seeing banker. I was that. I owned and loved that. But I also was conscious of dealing with people throughout the entire process.

My phone pinged.

The door opened. Another woman. She stood about five nine five eleven and trim. Stiletto heels boosted her figure to six feet. She wore a green and gold dress. Blonde hair flowed to her shoulders and she entered with a bit of a sashay. Her face looked like white clay. She smiled at Russell and Talia.

“Beautiful little ones, yes?” Her eyes looked like cut sapphire. “I’m someone who has been following your work…and life.”

Slightly thrown off by the suggestion I asked, “Who are you?”

“I’m Portia Harper,” she said.

“And what can I do for you?”

“I want to be with you,” Portia declared.

“These are business hours if you want to—”

“I know you’re a single black father trying to raise two beautiful children in the city. You’re going to need someone who can be there for you all. I want to be that someone.”

“Okay. I’m conducting business—”

“I know that. You’re thirty-nine. You went to New Sweden University and earned a bachelor’s in economics. You then went on to Delaware Institute of Technology and obtained your degree in finance. You were married to Madi Jesser for five years. You divorced and fought and won full custody of Russell and Talia. You started here at Locke and Finley Financial after several interviews. You rose up from a junior investor all the way to where we are at CFO.”

“That can be found on the Internet,” I replied.

“I know you also enjoy serving espresso finer than any coffee shop and even studied how to make it in Italy two summers ago. Your mother left you and your father when you were six. That you cannot find on the Web.”

“Who are you?” I asked.

“I thought we covered this ground. Let’s move on, now. I’m treating you to dinner. At the Mercier. Don’t worry about a sitter. I’ve arranged for a college student to look after Talia and Russell. She’s studying nutrition and finance. Go figure.”

A mixture of surprise and a sneaking sense of admiration crept into my soul. “Alright, Portia. You’ve got me. I’m going to allow you the pleasure of being my date tonight,” I said.

“That’s all I wanted. You’re doing an excellent job with these accounts. You have the knack.”

“Thanks, Portia. You obviously have done your homework, almost in stalkerish fashion, but you did your work nonetheless.”

“Tonight at seven at the Mercier. I’ll show up to your door at six thirty with Esther.”

Portia rose up from her seat and walked through the doorway with an air of almost divinity and grace.

“Is that our new mom?” Talia asked.

“We’ll see,” I replied. I packed up my own tablet and made sure the two children had there’s I commanded the door to open and then we put on our gas masks.