Lisa brought the tea without being asked this time. I didn’t even hear her open the door. She came in quietly, a tray balanced in her hands, two mugs, and a plate of donuts dusted with sugar. The scent drifted into the room, warm and sweet. I heard the gentle rattle of the cups as she set the tray down just beside my elbow.
“Tea, Mr. Bisheau,” she said softly, setting the tray down just beside my elbow. “And donuts. You look like you could use something sweet.” Her voice was gentle, almost like she was trying not to disturb the air.
I blinked, surprised. The mug felt warm when I picked it up. “Thank you, Lisa. I…” I caught myself, tried to smile, but she saw straight through it. My hand lingered over the plate, and I picked up a donut, noticing the sugar leaving a light dusting on my fingers.
She paused, watching me for a moment. “Are you okay, sir?” she asked, voice lower than usual. I looked up and saw she was frowning just a little, concern written all over her face.
I forced a smile, nodded. “I’m alright. Just thinking too much, I suppose.” I tried to sound casual, but the tea steamed between us, filling the space with the smell of fresh leaves. She lingered for a few seconds, her eyes searching mine, then she turned and left, her footsteps quiet on the floor.
The office felt quieter when she was gone. I sipped my tea and let the warmth run through me. But Lisa came back in a hurry, her shoes making a quicker patter this time. She was holding her tablet, the screen bright, a live news feed running across it. “Look,” she said, barely able to contain her excitement. “The situation in Somabhula—it’s calming down. They’re saying the community leaders met, the crowds have gone home. The council is sending out a thank-you message.” She placed the tablet in front of me, her finger pointing at the scrolling headlines. For a moment, I just stared at it, the bright letters shining against the grey of my desk.
For a second I let myself breathe. Relief spread through me, light and sharp. I leaned back and took another bite of the donut, letting the sugar crunch between my teeth. My shoulders dropped and I realized I had been sitting tense all morning.
Before I could say anything, the door swung open again and my boss strode in, the agent right behind him. The Director’s face was lit up, open hands already reaching for me. They both carried the kind of energy that fills a room before they even speak.
“Percy! My man!” he said, grabbing me by the shoulders and shaking me so hard I nearly dropped my mug. The agent joined in, slapping my back with a laugh, their faces all amazement and pride. “We don’t know how you do it,” my boss said, shaking his head in wonder. “How do you pull this off? This thing should have dragged on for weeks, months even. Lives were meant to be lost. But you, you just cut through the noise. Problem solved and only one death and its not even our fault. I have never met any other peacemaker like you. You’re our secret hero, Percy. Our fixer.”
I stood a little dazed, grinning like a child with happiness swelling in my chest. The warmth from their hands seemed to stay with me long after they stepped back. For a few minutes the office felt bright, almost too bright. Lisa gave me a real, soft smile before slipping away, leaving the air sweet with sugar and pride. Even the walls looked less white. I could hear the sounds from outside, the hum of cars, the murmur of voices, the ordinary world carrying on.
When they were gone, I picked up my phone and dialed Jessica. My fingers trembled a little, not from nerves but from excitement. She answered on the second ring, her voice warm and easy. I could picture her standing in the shop, apron tied around her waist, sunlight catching the edge of her hair.
“Hey, love,” I said, not bothering to hide the joy. “I just wanted to say I love you. I really do. You make everything better. You know that right?”
She laughed, that soft, musical laugh that still made me feel young. “I know babe and I love you more” Her words came with a tease but I heard the happiness in her tone.
I laughed too. “Better than that. Let’s meet for tea at my agency this afternoon. Just you and me.” My voice was softer than usual. I found myself rubbing my thumb over the edge of the mug, tracing a little circle in the warmth.
She agreed, teasing me, and promised to be there. When I hung up, I found myself smiling into space, the happiness lingering, washing over everything like morning sun.
For a moment I just sat at my desk, thinking of Somabhula, the conflict, the meetings, the fast peace I’d managed to pull together. The way everyone praised me, the feeling of fixing something nobody else could touch. There was a quiet satisfaction in it. Solving problems, making things work, bringing peace if only for a day. I looked around the office and saw small things I hadn’t noticed before. The sunlight on the desk, the half-empty bottle of water and the list of calls I still had to make.
But even in that joy I wondered, how do you keep peace? How do you make it last, not just for the day but for a lifetime? Was I just a quick fix, a patch on a broken wall or was I building something real? The questions hung in the air but there was no one to answer.
It was nearly noon now and the office glowed with that golden hour between crisis and calm. I decided not to question it too hard. Sometimes, you have to enjoy peace while it lasts. So I leaned back and finished my tea. I watched the world outside the window letting the sweetness stay just a little longer.
