Lottie's Point of View

By the time I turned twenty eight years old, I had entered my first official romantic relationship with the animal I'd had unwavering feelings for for more than a decade.

It was both a blessing and a birthday present, I decided. I assumed it wasn't the intention for Digby to become my boyfriend just under two weeks before my birthday, but the timing was lucky. Actually, I was pretty sure that any other gift would pale in comparison. After the emotional confession, we returned to our sections of work and unspokenly agreed that the talk of our romantic future would have had to wait until the proper business was done. Sitting side by side in supervising Happy Homeroom sessions between three and six o'clock was like pins and needles in remembering the truth and being unable to say anything. As soon as our shifts had ended, we joined each other in the garden at the back of the building where we had kissed for the first time four years ago and discussed what to do about what we now knew.

By the time my birthday arrived, it still had yet to sink in that we were together. I recognized that we had grown closer than ever before, but I failed to process that we had gone from platonic to romantic in a matter of hours. However, I was reminded of the fact once again by Digby bringing up the topic of going out on another date for the occasion. Since he had chosen our last date, a night under the stars, it was technically my turn to make the decision, but he insisted on planning something again this time around because it was my birthday. He treated me to dinner in a cozy little restaurant, kissed me again amidst the color-changing trees, and brought me back to the same hill we had sat to stargaze last time as we had both enjoyed it so much. The stars glistened just as bright and beautiful as the last time we had been there and we settled down to recline onto the grass to gaze up at it, cuddled up to each other's side while Digby wrapped an arm around my shoulders to keep me close.

"I still haven't even processed that this is a thing," I murmured, absorbing myself in the warmth of Digby's half-embrace and staring up at the star-sprinkled sky as a crisp breeze fluttered past us. The chirp of the crickets was subtle tonight, but still whirred somewhere in the shadows. "Have you?"

"Well, I think of it less as a processing thing," Digby told me. His voice was gentle near my ear. "I'm just thrilled that this is happening in general. So I'm just going with the flow, I suppose."

"May I ask, how long have you felt this way about me?" I inquired, shifting slightly to glance over at him. Due to our close proximity, his face was hardly inches from mine, our eyes meeting as he looked my way as well. About a month ago, something like this would have panicked me, but I was used to it well enough now for it to hardly provoke a response.

"You know, it's funny, actually," he replied. As he spoke, he began to softly caress my shoulder as if to soothe me. "I remember the exact moment when I realized I was in love with you. I had a crush on you, too, of course, but they both kind of happened at the same time. It was on your twenty-second birthday, so six years ago from this very day. I was enjoying a cup of coffee with my dad under the sunrise and we were talking about you, but I don't remember what it was about. I remember that I hadn't seen you for a while before I realized because it was right after the whole... Well, you know, all of those problems that went down at Happy Home that you and your uncle put me on a work suspension for."

"After I fired you?" I echoed. "You fell in love with me after I fired you?"

"Well, it wasn't because you fired me," Digby shot back, but an amused smile was already creeping across his face. "It's because I didn't have much to do with my life anymore after that besides thinking about what happened and then I started thinking about you more, which is what made me realize."

The thought of Digby's crush on me developing due to his employment being terminated snuck through my mind again, inducing a sudden burst of unrestrained giggles. My laughter set off Digby's own, leaving us to crack up together for a few seconds before the amusement fizzled out again.

"How about you?" Digby asked when we both managed to stop laughing. "How long did you like me before I told you how I felt?"

"Oh, longer than I'd like to admit," I told him, forcing another cough of awkward laughter. I hadn't even counted the years yet and I was already certain that it was far more than his six years—Which was ridiculous to think about on its own.

"No, come on," Digby urged, playfully poking my arm with his free paw. "I made an entire scene to tell you how I felt. Remember that? Two weeks ago? I think it warrants an answer to that question."

"All right, fine," I said. "To be honest... I was fourteen when I started crushing on you. You were twelve. So, that would have been... Another fourteen years, I guess. Half of my life."

"Wait, seriously?" The amusement had vanished from Digby's voice again, replaced by nothing but pure surprise. "You're not just being polite? You liked me for fourteen years and you didn't say anything about it?"

"Well, I was too scared," I pointed out. "Even now, I probably wouldn't have even been able to tell you before I left. I probably would have just told Uncle Lyle to tell you after I left or something so that I wouldn't have to see your reaction."

"In that case, I'll be awaiting my heartfelt and spirited 'thank you'," Digby teased.

"Oh, be quiet," I mumbled and let the rest of my answer be revealed by a snuggle close and my head resting against his shoulder.

September went on in its usual casual-paced pattern. I continued to balance preparation for Happy Home Paradise, slowly finish out my work for the HHDA, and as of recently, the distraction of dating. By weekdays, I hosted interviews to find the perfect applicant for the job of my assistant. By weekends, I stuck to my old rotating schedule of Studies, Open Advisory, and Happy Homeroom. By evenings, usually once a week and sometimes more, I went out with Digby to spend time somewhere new. Niko called back at the beginning of October to let me know that not only had all of my work and belongings that I had shipped out had made it safely, but everything from my office to my home was completely ready for me, including installed furniture, lighting, and everything I would need. Right now, it appeared that everything in my life in every aspect was moving smoothly and perfectly. Once I could find an assistant, everything would be ready for my departure next month.

Next month. I would have been leaving home before I knew it. I was only a month away from leaving everything I had ever known: the HHDA, the house that I had grown up in since I was seven years old, and most importantly, Uncle Lyle and Digby. What an unusual and somewhat unnerving situation I was leaving behind, too. Uncle Lyle retiring and spending all of his time at home, Digby taking over authority of the HHDA, at least until I returned. About a year ago, I could never have guessed that any of us would have been where we were now. So much had already changed in my life since May when I had first begun planning and there was still even more change to wait for.

"Are you okay?" I asked Digby beside me. He had visited me at home after a lengthy workday supervising interviews and we had sat down on the couch together in the living room to watch a movie, but he had become oddly quiet once it ended. The television was off, the young night was dim, and even with his arm loosely closed in around my shoulders in the way he liked to hold me, there was a blankness in Digby's face and a dullness in his eyes.

"Hmm?" Digby's eyes darted to meet mine. "Of course I am. Why do you ask?"

"You seem sad," I told him. "Is there something on your mind?"

"Uh... Well, kind of," Digby admitted. He adjusted his arm around my shoulder, holding me more sturdily as he leaned to rest the side of his head against mine. "I'm thinking about what everything will be like when you leave. You'll be hundreds of miles away changing the world and Lyle would be retired. I'm going to be alone at work. And taking care of everything there, on top of that. It's such a huge responsibility."

"Are you worried about it?" I asked softly.

"The thing is, I'm more worried about having you leave," Digby murmured. "I'm not sure how I'm going to handle going through this for the second time."

"What do you mean?" I withdrew my head, causing him to do the same, and met his eyes. His broken, silently suffering eyes.

Digby sighed faintly, squeezing my shoulder as he searched for the right words. His dark eyes wandered the room for a few seconds before he turned his focus back to me.

"Lottie, Isabelle did the same exact thing to me eight years ago," Digby told me.

With the progression of the vanishing weeks towards November fifth, I proceeded with the remnants of developments with the stifled thought that my upcoming actions were the same that cursed Digby with a rapidly spiraling depression and a full-blown personality disorder to cope that was still very much relevant in his life now, given his switches. I figured that he likely wasn't going to be the same animal anymore after I left home, but I suppressed the thought. The stress was also swelling that I wouldn't find an assistant before the final date, having two months of effort behind me with nothing to show for it. All I could do was hold my head high and move on as always.

October was arriving at a steady end. On the nineteenth, I took Digby out for a birthday date—His birthday wasn't until the twentieth of December, but considering I wouldn't have been here to see him, I decided it was important to celebrate together early. I brought him to Scarlet Squares to explore the stores that were still left open in the evening hour, eyeing for an idea of a present to buy him for when his birthday actually arrived, but still something wasn't right with him. He smiled frequently to show that he was happy, but his eyes confessed the opposite. There was always something so empty about them whenever I looked, a sort of hopelessness in his actions that he tried to hide from me. My departure was starting to drag him down again and I hadn't even left yet. It didn't help either of us to witness Uncle Lyle's office gradually disappearing in boxes just as mine once had.

But it was in the sight of it that reminded me that there was another day we needed to look out for.

October 24, 2021

"All right, Mika, you've had a couple of full-time jobs before, haven't you?" I said, glancing up from the resume clipped to the application form on top of my notes folder towards the interviewee seated in front of me as she nodded. She was a curly-haired goldendoodle dog with large, floppy ears on the sides of her head by the age of twenty-four. "A schoolteacher and a swim teacher, your resume says."

"Both very fulfilling jobs," Mika pointed out.

"I can absolutely see that," I agreed. "Can you tell me some of your strengths in the workplace?"

"I tend to feel very passionate about what I work on," Mika explained. "I'm also very patient and I'd consider myself a great problem-solver. Those are all skills you can really use when working with kids, so that's where I picked them up."

"Well, I think that's great," I told her. "Those skills are important for almost any job you can acquire. What about your weaknesses? Can you tell me about those?"

"Oh, sure. Let me think." Mika quieted, her gaze thoughtfully traveling the room as she absentmindedly patted her skirt-covered knees. After a long pause, she drew in a breath and looked at me again. "It's only a weakness for this job, I think, but I'm not yet very knowledgeable on interior design. I also find myself in a cycle of confidence struggles sometimes. But I can promise that despite both of those things, I'm a great candidate for the job and would work hard every day."

"That's excellent to hear, Mika," I said, setting down the papers and folder on my lap again and folding my paws together on top. "Thank you for your honesty. I just have one more question for you, and then that'll be all the time that we have."

"What's the question?" Mika inquired politely.

"I've been told it's a bit of a strange one, so bear with me," I admitted. Mika only nodded for me to continue without an ounce of confusion or suspicion. "If you could bring only one item with you to a deserted island that doesn't include food or water, what would you choose?"

"That's not strange. It's a deep-thinker," Mika replied. She paused again, searching for her answer, and spoke again. "May I say my cell phone? I would want to contact my family."

"That's an absolutely valid response," I told her. I decided it best not to mention how that was nearly every answer I had ever received in the history of these interviews—The cell phone part, at least, with various reasons explaining it. Rarely did I ever hear something different. "Thank you for your time, Mika. I'll be in touch with the phone number you left on your resume."

"Thank you very much," Mika said, carefully rising from her chair. She bent down to pick up her small black purse that sent a shine across the surface from the lights peering down above and straightened up again. It was just as she was ducking into the thin strap to rest it from her shoulder did a short knock alert us to someone outside, causing her to sneak a glance behind her as the door swung open.

"Hi there," Digby cheerfully greeted us both from the doorway. "I hope I'm not interrupting something."

"No, not at all," I assured him, rising to my feet as well. "Ms. Mika was just on her way out."

"Oh, excuse me," Digby apologized, hastily backing up into the doorway to hold the door open for Mika, who uttered a courteous gratitude as she shuffled through the doorway.

After Mika had disappeared from the room again, leaving the two of us alone in the room, Digby quietly shut the door again so that I wouldn't be startled. He knew well that loud noises upset me.

"How are you feeling, Lottie?" Digby asked, stepping past the chair that faced me to stand in front of me. He gently took hold of my paws, enclosing them in his own. "I know this day is really hard for you. I just want to make sure you're doing okay."

"I think I'm fine, all things considered," I said. "I haven't thought about it much since I've been in interviews all day, but maybe I should be feeling guilty for that."

"You don't need to feel guilty about anything." Digby released my paws again to gently brush back wisps of hair that had escaped from my bun from my face. "If not thinking about it is helping you feel better, then don't think about it. It's okay. I spoke with him earlier, though. He says he's only taking a half-day today as his last day. He's planning to go home in about an hour after he records a farewell speech to publish on the website to let everyone know. He wanted me to tell you, too."

"Okay," I said. "I only have one more interview today scheduled, anyway. After that, I'll see him out."

"You won't be alone," Digby told me. He leaned closer to plant a long kiss on my forehead, carefully pulling away before he spoke again. "With saying goodbye, anyway. If I was allowed to sit in on the interviews, I would."

"Did you just come in here to get an interview to be my assistant after I told you not to?" I teased him.

"Uh oh, you caught me," Digby joked back, allowing a humored smile to slip onto his face. "I'll see you soon, okay? I love you."

"I love you too," I said. I watched him as he made his way back towards the door, maneuvering his way past the chair again, and I spoke up again as he gripped the doorknob with his paw in preparation to open it. "Before you go, can you invite my next applicant in? It should be for eleven thirty, which is in about three minutes."

"Of course," Digby replied. He ducked through the doorway again, shutting the door as quietly as he had when he had first entered, and was gone.

I lowered myself back into my seat, cracking open my folder to tuck Mika's application form and resume into the back behind my notes. I kept an eye on the door, anticipating it to swing open, but didn't. Instead, a soft, polite knock from the other side appeared in its place.

"It's open," I called out hesitantly. I hadn't had someone knock first, with the exception of Digby just a minute ago. When the applicants heard their appointment was up next, usually they just pushed right inside.

The door slid open. Behind it stood a particularly tall sky-blue manatee in a long-sleeved white button-up shirt in a business casual fashion with a sweep of dark brown hair atop his head that appeared to be neatly combed. In one of his flippers, he carried a small cluster of papers that was likely his application form and resume. There was a sort of calm expression lingering in his face and dark eyes, not distinctly nervous like many of the applicants before him but instead with nothing more than a respectful aura. I had learned a touch of information to schedule for his interview, but only his name and his age, which was thirty-two years old.

"You must be Wardell, correct?" I greeted him, outstretching a paw to shake his free flipper. "My name is Lottie. I'll be conducting your interview today."

Wardell shuffled silently into the room as the door swung shut behind him, professionally shaking my paw without a word. He withdrew his flipper again and offered his application and resume out to me with both.

"Papers," he said. While the short statement would normally imply a rude response, he spoke in a soft voice as if there were sleeping animals around us he didn't want to wake. He wasn't a rude animal, just one of few words.

"Thank you," I said, accepting the papers and putting them down on my lap on top of my folder. "Please take a seat. Would it be all right if I ask you some questions?"

Wardell seated himself in the chair in front of mine and gave a short nod in response.

"All right, perfect." I flipped open the folder again, slipping the paperwork inside and briefly glancing at my notes before I shut it and turned my attention back to him. "Firstly, do you feel comfortable telling me a little bit about yourself?"

"Yes," Wardell replied. As he still spoke softly, I realized that it wasn't an intentional act, it was simply his voice. "I work for my father. Full-time. We catch fish from dusk to dawn and sell them. I have a deep love for the water and its unknowns. Work by the ocean will be very comfortable. I personally run a side job as a shopkeeper. Souvenirs and collectibles. I would like to continue that. I planned and designed the shop myself. Interior and exterior design is very fulfilling. My father says I'm a natural, though I remain humble. That's a little bit about me."

"Thank you, Wardell. It's refreshing to find someone who's familiar with long hours, as that's something that turns many away," I explained. "May I ask what interests you in this job?"

"I want to explore my design skills," Wardell said. "I also want to travel and be by the water. Perfect opportunity."

"Those are great reasons," I informed him. "Thank you for sharing. Next, why should I hire you?"

"Work and life intertwine as one," Wardell explained. "To do is to be, after all. My actions define my path of life. My purpose is to help and this is how I'll do it. I plan to change the world by quality rather than fame and everything will be right. I compel you to consider as I like to think I found my path."

Wow. He was highly unusual, sort of poetic, but clearly passionate about the subject. I scanned my notes another time before posing my next question.

"What are your strengths in the workplace?" I inquired.

"I am very loyal," Wardell told me. "That I can promise. I will accept any task just as long as I can be present. I won't complain of long days. I work hard and am always open to constructive criticism to improve. I hope to become the best I can be by this position."

"All right," I acknowledged. "And your weaknesses?"

"I lose myself in thought by occasion," Wardell admitted. He was strangely skilled at having immediate answers, I noticed, and spoke with such quiet certainty. "I think of the sea. I think of the waves, the sparkling on the water, and it calms me. When I don't work, I think."

"I see," I said. "Do you have any questions for me before we wrap up? I just have one more question for you."

"I don't," Wardell told me.

"That's perfectly fine. In that case, I'm curious about something," I said, folding my paws together on my lap again. "If you could bring anything to a deserted island that doesn't include food or water, what would you pick?"

"A camera," Wardell answered.

"A camera?" I echoed. That wasn't the usual response. It wasn't anything I had heard before, either.

"If I have nothing else, then I will have the memories," Wardell said.

"I see," I said again, cracking open my folder to retrieve the papers he had offered to me. The interview was just about done and I had some time to glance over them once he left. "Actually, that's a great answer. That's the first I've heard it."

I started to slide the sheets out, but another question springing to my head brought me to a pause. I slipped them back into place, shut the folder, and looked back at the manatee in front of me.

"Just minutes ago, you told me that you have an interest in both interior and exterior design and want to expand your abilities," I said. "Is this your first time hearing of us here at the HHDA? What do you know about this company?"

"This building first opened in late December of the year 1985," Wardell said. "There was only one manager at the start and only one branch of business, known as the Happy Home Academy. The second branch of business, called the Happy Home Designer, launched later in the nineties and the official title merged. The nineties also brought another manager, but he left years later and it was never revealed to the public why. It caused a public backlash that faded out within the year. Another designer was hired in the year 2008, which I believe was you, and then another five years later. A second major outrage was documented due to lack of communication and another designer left, but only for a year. The popularity began to trickle back in for years before May of this year when planning for this new branch called Happy Home Paradise began and led us to where we are today. Would that be enough?"

Not five minutes later, my high-heeled shoes clicked briskly across the hard floor as I traveled the halls to reach Open Advisory. The doors were only a single turn away and instantly flung open as I burst past them. I located Digby within the gathering crowds within moments, standing near the middle and seeming to be closing up a conversation with a visitor. He took notice of my approach, turning to look at me as the clicking sound entered his range of hearing, and started off through the crowds to meet me in the middle. As I jolted to a halt in front of him, my heart hammered heavily enough for my paws to shake.

"I think I found my assistant," I told him.

. . .

"Good morning, everyone. As a lot of you may know already, my name is Lyle. I'm the owner of the Happy Home Designer and Academy as it currently stands. For those who didn't know, I've been the one running this company for over thirty years. Thirty six years, to be exact. That's a long time to be a part of something, isn't it?"

At one in the afternoon, Digby and I took to the halls together to locate Uncle Lyle. We had agreed just hours before that we would walk him out together to mark our closeness both as coworkers and as a family and lead him warmly into the rest of his life. It was the least we could do for him with how much he had done for us across the years of working here. We found him in his office, completely emptied out except for his computer and a small microphone, as he sat at his desk after submitting his final speech to the website. Only after we all joined together again did it sink in what we were there for.

"I can't say all of those years were good, whether it be your satisfaction or by means of progress, but they all meant something. Each and every one of them. That's something I can say for sure. I hope that there's a good amount of you that can say the same."

As Uncle Lyle set off to make one last call before his departure, I stayed behind in his office and ran a cloth across the surface of the desk to tidy up for him as Digby stood on the other side of the door to watch through the glass. When my uncle returned just minutes later, he dismissed me from the task, telling me that I had done enough and that I could keep Digby company instead. I stepped back outside the room to wait and succumb to the seconds counting down.

"With a responsibility such as the one I have held up to this point, it takes a lot of strength, courage, and dedication to make it this far and it takes a great deal of leadership. I've accepted my role as a leader for all of the years we've been working together. Maybe I wasn't the best leader, but you can be sure that standing for you and your endeavors was always at the very top of my priorities. Always."

Digby and I watched Uncle Lyle through the glass in the door as he packed away his computer and microphone into one last box and then proceeded to sweep the floors to fully tidy up. A lump had formed itself in my throat, though I wasn't really crying, as the situation sunk in further and washed over me with an achy misery. It must have shown on my face as Digby seemed to notice and drew me in to hold me close against him. He wrapped his arms gently around me and allowed me to rest my head against his shoulder so that I could continue to watch through the glass as he held me.

"That being said, I'm here to deliver some news that will bring about celebration in some and despair in others. I'm here today to let you know that I'm stepping down as leader of the HHDA. No, I don't mean temporarily. This will be a permanent act. All good leaders know when their reign needs to come to an end and I think that it might be time for me to go."

We stepped out of the way of the door again as Uncle Lyle stepped back out into the hall, having finished everything he needed to in his office. For a long stretch of silence, the three of us only stood and looked at each other, processing the reality that was unraveling in front of us and wordlessly acknowledging the truth. It was time.

"For those who are familiar with my niece, Lottie, she will be stepping up to take my place. She will take both my work and my legacy forward while my career comes to an end. This is the start of a new era for the HHDA. I leave you all with the promise of a bright future in everything that may come of it."

We didn't even need to say anything as we began to walk. We all knew where we were going and we all knew why. None of us spoke as we walked together through the halls of the second floor, reached the stairs, filed through the door one by one, and descended down to the first floor.

"Yes, it does dishearten me to leave. It does sadden me to understand what I'm leaving behind. I'm not only leaving behind a line of work, but the life that I created here. It's unbelievable how much has changed since I first opened these doors thirty six years ago and how much of my life you all have been a part of. Now that you have the memory of me, I leave a piece of myself with you. Every one of you that listens to my words today."

A soreness had begun to stretch between my eyes as we descended the stairs to the first floor, though the tears still never came. We slipped through the door into the next hall on the first floor to an almost eerily empty set of passageways and went onward to reach the doors. A few steps into the hallway, I felt a paw grab and squeeze my own as Uncle Lyle tried to comfort me in the midst of his departure.

"For many of you, this may be the last time you see me. This may be the last time you hear of me. This is where I take my leave once and for all. I ask that you don't feel bad about the fact that I'm gone or over how much is going to change, for goodbye is never truly goodbye. I will always be a part of you and you will always be a part of me. I thank you for letting me be a part of your journey and I hope I made your lives a little bit better because of it."

And then, the double doors leading to the outside world stood before us at the end of the short entrance hallway. I gave my uncle a hug, thanked him for teaching me to be the best designer I could have been, told him it was time for him to finally rest from such a long journey of work, and let him be on his way. Digby's paw took the place where Uncle Lyle's had been around my own as we stood together and watched him cross the hallway to arrive at the doors.

"With that, I believe it's time for me to go. I'm satisfied with everything that I've accomplished here at the HHDA and now it's time for me to move on. As usual, at the HHDA, we stand for your best and brightest future, and we stand together. Thank you for your time."

Uncle Lyle pushed open the door, ducked through, and was gone as he left the Happy Home Designer and Academy for the very last time.