Nikolai stood in his kitchen reading over his lesson plan on his tablet while drinking his coffee. He placed his black mug on his slate gray island countertop and scrolled to the next page, checking for errors and blanks before finalizing and sending it off to his colleagues for review. His phone pinged as Laura, his trusted estate manager, entered the front door.

"Good morning Nikolai, you're up early today!"

Her sharp and lifted tone brightens the room, you can hear her smile as she enters the door. Nikolai swiveled toward the stove, started the kettle on the burner, and then prepped Laura's mug. She doesn't drink coffee, but he knows she loves tea, Jasmine, and Peach Ginger flavors to be more specific.

"Morning Laura, I could say the same thing about you, your shift starts in an hour." He loaded the mesh diffuser and carefully placed a coaster beneath the cup.

"Well, I wouldn't have been early ... if it wasn't ... an emergency." She emphasized her pauses, hoping he would catch it.

As she hung up her jacket she peeks over her left shoulder into the kitchen, she caught his expression and sure enough, she can see that Nikolai is slightly puzzled. Her brows furrow a bit as it dawns on her that he's waiting for her to continue, as he is lost upon what she's talking about.

Fighting the urge to groan, Laura spoker up with a bite of bitterness in her tone. 

"Nikolai, you said you needed me to be here early."

Understandably irked, Laura hung up her pocketbook by the strap on the hook beneath the shelf. A daggering gaze locked him in place as she changed into her work shoes, which she kept stored in the bottom drawer, beneath her space on the rack.

His silence only makes her more annoyed and she nearly hissed at him. "Please tell me that you did not just waste my time."

"No, I didn't, I do need your advice on something." Nikolai rubbed the back of his neck nervously, trying quickly to come up with a lie as he'd been busted, but just that moment, he recovered to his remembrance as to what he requested her assistance for.

"I'm thinking about getting rid of these counters and cabinets, maybe redoing the floors? Also, what do you think about a bronze farm sink?" He rambles on until he noticed that Laura hasn't spoken a word. He finished his empty proposal then catches sight of her blank gaze. There's a calm pause to advance only enhanced by their nervous tension between the two but still, nothing is said. She's unamused with this nonsensical idea of his.

"What? You don't agree?" He asked again as took the last bite of his blueberry muffin.

He chewsed slowly, not knowing if she would raise her voice, he braced for her response, expecting the worst but still somehow hoping she would approve. Laura had a minuscule amount of patience and even less of a desire to amuse him with a lie. She decides to hit him with the truth.

"Must we go over this again Nikolai? I'm starting to think this constant sim-like behavior of placing, erasing, and re-designing the kitchen, is the beginning of a behavior that only therapy is going to fix."

He shrugged and threw the debris from his muffin in the bin, and Laura continued.

"I think it looks exquisite as it is now- and you just finished the renovation four weeks ago. Why would you drum up more dust and chaos?" She argued, hoping his muffin-minded cranium would comprehend her genuine worry. She took a few steps towards him hoping she would finally get through to whatever was impulsing him to make such an irrational and redundant decision.

"Look, this is your first time seeing it for yourself in person, and you haven't even given it a chance. You're just going to have to let it grow onto you. Besides, you have bigger things to focus on and be concerned with."

"Where's the chef?" Nikolai mumbled as he fetched a broom to clean up the crumbs he carelessly missed. Laura squinted her eyes in displeasure, and locates the broom herself, then thrusts it towards him.

"As if you'd know where the broom is located, let alone how to use it." She smirked. "And Your chef walked because he didn't have a place to work. Chefs need kitchens, and since yours was empty for the better part of a year, he left." She proceeded to observe as Nikolai lackadaisically swept his mess and assisted with the dustpan.

"His name was Joshua, by the way," she added while looking annoyed. She was trying to be kinder to him, but it didn't seem to come out that way, still, she proceeded.

Embarrassed at his efforts and convicted by the truth, Nikolai burried his feelings of contriteness toward her words. Laura immediatley spotted his rejection in his body language and is dejected that he knows what he's doing is harmfull to himself. In a split second, without saying a word, he surrendered the broom. Laura, seeing that he's struggling, gives him a moment to stand up and erase the humiliation from his face. She didn't want to rub it in that he didn't know what he was doing, or at least not outright.

"I wasn't aware my decision impeded his work. That's a shame, his muffins were far better than mine." Attempting to shroud his shame, he walked over to the sink and washed his hands thoroughly. Furiously he fumbled with the handtowel as to focus his nerves into something that could channel his discomfort, and cover as an excuse since he didn't want to dirty his suit jacket.

"I may have gone a little out there with the renovations but, so what? I didn't like the way it looked." He tossed the handtowel into the sink and leaned against the counter. "It reminded me of a hospital cafeteria, and I hate hospitals." he shuddered slightly. The white, gray, and stainless steel made him feel like he was in a sterilized operating room.

"If I'm going to own a home, I want it to be a home I can look at and enjoy living in, but it feels so empty, thus the decision to make renovations." Feeling that he's made a satisfied argument he scoffed.

The home was modified for ease of access and the color palette was simplified for his sister's sake. Though she didn't do away with any of the historical details, like the crown moldings and columns, she wanted an environment that wouldn't be easily sullied and would also be open enough to invite guests. Her income toward the end of her life was heavily dependant upon the clients who rented the space for events. She rented it out for everything from baby showers to funeral repasses, and graduation parties. She even threw Laura's surprise engagement party in the backyard garden.

"How is Gregory?" Nikolai asked as Laura avoided looking at him. He couldn't tell if she was upset at his pathetic attempt to clean his mess, hide his true feelings, or at the statement about the kitchen itself.

"He's well," Laura answered in her focused tone. "He still does carpentry, but now he works in his shop, making and designing kitchens for other swanky clients."

Crossing his feet while he peeled a hard-boiled egg, he beamed from his heart. "That's good. I'm happy he was able to achieve his dream."  

Laura was about to inquire about his demeanor, but she changed her mind and relented to her typical response. She's gotten to a point where giving words of encouragement to someone like Nikolai was a lost cause. She wanted to offer them, after taking stock of past attempts and their outcomes, she decides it's not worth the time.

"Yes, well, from one homeowner to another, you really should be more frugal and definitive with your spending. When it comes down to it, you're wasting your funds on aesthetics." She grabbed her designated clipboard, adjusted her white lace cuffs, and stood off to his side by the oven and continued.

"I'm sure if you give it a chance, live in it for a while and fill all the empty spaces, you'll love it even more. Besides, it wouldn't be so empty if there were more people... more staff around."

Laura was included in Nikolais estate agreement after he inherited the property from his sister. The estate initially came fully staffed, but after just two years of ownership, most of the staff either left to find other work or were dismissed. Laura was the only one of three staff members along with Joshua and Tonya, a security guard, that stayed.

"A house this small shouldn't have so much stuff anyway," Nikolai stated. "It's not a manor."

Laura rolled her eyes. "It's an Estate. And a home It's what you make of it. That's what your sister believed." Laura responded rather poignantly, drawing a chuckle from Nikolai. "I see you have added the guest room back to my chart... anything in particular that you were looking for me to do?"

Nikolai swallowed the remnants of his food before adjusting his tie and hastily grabbing his coat from the counter. Her inquiry seemed to have caused him anxiety. His fear-motivated response was clear and concise. "Do whatever you want with it." 

He hadn't intended to disturb him. The sensitivity of grief isn't something she can control, so she subdued her desire to console and replaced it with a cordial and sentimental response instead. "Drive safe." 

Laura headed off to complete her tasks as her shoes clacked gently across the light wood floors. Attempting to swallow his pain and drown it in caffine Nikolai finished his coffee with vigor, and the two went their separate ways. He headed for the mudroom, retrieved his keys from the space opposite to the coat rack, and leaft for the day. As he headed down the drive, he greeted Tonya at the gate and began his commute to campus.

Delicate and painstakingly hand-selected was the foliage that surrounded his home. Contrary to popular belief the landscape hadn't always been there. His sister helped to plant the trees while doing community service. When the house sold, the owners hired her to maintain the landscaping. She loved taking such meticulous care that it contributed to her being promoted several times over the years. Her commitment to the previous owners, and their home care, allowed her the opportunity to make her way to Estate Historian and Manager.

As time passed, the original owners of the estate grew old and decided to move back home to Italy. They then sold the estate to Paige, who held possession for only five years before passing away from an illness she had been fighting in secret. However, she managed to live long enough to make sure that Nikolai would not have to worry about anything upon his return.

To his surprise, she left him everything, even though he hadn't seen her since she left home at the age of 18. He was only 9 years old at the time. However, those trees still stand tall, serving as a memory of her, and they provided him with peace of mind.

The ride into the city is particularly quiet and smooth, one of the good things about living on this side of the city is the private roads giving him access to faster routes to work, one of the only reasons why he moved into the estate. He was supposed to be out on grievance leave but canceled it and decided to go back to work. Nikolai disliked idleness and contemplating death for too long. It gave him time to be alone with himself, which he found unbearable and uninteresting.

He lightly tapped his finger on the steering wheel to the music playing over the radio as he successfully escaped the stress in his mind from his sister's passing, at least for the time being. He knows that he can't keep running from his sadness but he doesn't have time to grieve.

How sad that life has gotten so unmanageable and unrecognizable that even grief has to take a number and wait to be seen. Inconveniences are the great waiting rooms of life, he thought. Nikolai understands that his place, here in the estate, in his current life, and his current line of work is only temporary. It would be a waste of time to weep over anything temporary, even pain is temporary, he thought, but then again the same could be said for happiness.

Nikolai still had his grandfather to look after, though that too was weighing heavy on him mentally. It's like he never really experienced Paige's passing. Though he does play a rather emotional tune on his wooden flute from time to time. The old man has a pretty good sense of humor for his age and is still just as quick as they come too. He feared the window would soon close to seek any closure, but he could only anticipate so much unknown.