Page 50 - The Houseguest

I drove back to town and walked into the condo. Glancing around, I realized everything, every single little thing, was the same...except me. I didn’t know which particular step this was in the established stages of grieving, but I was ready to reenter life and see this thing through. Not wasting any time, I called the office and told them I’d be coming in the next morning.
I felt the stares as I walked past the reception counter and through the open desk area. Nodding in acceptance of the sympathetic smiles and returning the glare of curious eyes who had written me off as dead or having joined the ranks of the retirees, I finally reached the closed office doors of the firm. Arriving at my office, I learned that my legal assistant had been replaced, among other changes I had not been made aware of, or approved. Or perhaps I had. It was best not to question any changes, for my recollection was not good and they could have actually been initiated by me. My state of mind the last few months was anything but stable.
Calling a meeting of every employee that afternoon, I stood up and confidently informed them, glancing around the room to make eye contact with each, that I was back in charge and the firm would be moving forward with a vengeance. I tasked each with the responsibility of summarizing their last three months in a report due to me by morning, and spent the entire next day pouring over the reports until feeling completely informed and back in charge.
For the next eight months, I lived and breathed law, ordering the associates to accept every case that came our way and be ruthless in
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The Houseguest by Linda Ellis www.LindaEllis.life