Mr. Monk and the Two Assistants by Goldberg, Lee (books for students to read .TXT) 📕

Jersey with his smooth talk and false promises, forcing you to abandon the people who needed you most, plunging them into the impenetrable darkness and despair that lies in the pitiful depths of their tormented souls.”

Monk noticed us both staring at him and then hastily added, “And Trevor murdered someone, which is also very bad.”

Sharona glanced at me. “You know what? It’s a lot later than I thought. I’d better be going.”

She was right about that.

“What’s the rush?” Monk said. “We could measure my ice cubes to be sure they are perfectly square. Remember how you loved to do that every morning?”

“You loved it, Adrian,” Sharona said. “For me, it was a chore.”

“And what’s the definition of a chore?” Monk said, like he was asking everyone to sing along. “Something you love to do.”

“I don’t think so,” Sharona said.

“It’s in the dictionary,” Monk said. “Look it up.”

“Okay, let’s do that,” Sharona said. “Go get your dictionary. I’ll wait.”

Monk grinned at me. “Isn’t she a kidder? This was our thing, this witty repartee. We’ve fallen right back into it as if she’d never thoughtlessly abandoned me. We fit like a comfortable pair of new shoes.”

“Don’t you mean old shoes?” she said.

“Who would want to put on old shoes?” Monk said, shaking his head and looking at me. “See what I mean? This is gold. You should really be writing this down.”

Maybe I should just have fallen to my knees and genuflected in front of her, too. I didn’t say that of course, but the gist of my thoughts must have been evident on my face, at least to Sharona. She picked up her handbag and headed quickly for the door.

“I’ve really got to go,” Sharona said. “If I don’t leave now, I’ll fall asleep at the wheel.”

“You need to get a new job,” Monk said.

“Like what?” Sharona asked, pausing at the door. “Supermodel? Chef? International spy? This is all I know how to do.”

“You could go back to being a private nurse,” Monk said. “You could devote yourself to the simple needs of a single, disinfected person as opposed to dozens of unwashed strangers who spew germs and bodily fluids all over you.”

I stared at him in disbelief. Did he really just say what I thought he said? Didn’t he see me standing there? Didn’t he care at all about my feelings?

Obviously, the answers were yes, no and no.

If those were the questions on a test measuring sensitivity and basic decency, Monk would have just flunked.

“That’s a big responsibility, one I’m not sure I can handle right now,” Sharona said. “But I’ll think about it, Adrian. See you around.”

And then she left.

See you around? What did she mean by that?

It’s not like they lived in the same neighborhood or moved in the same social circles. They weren’t going to just bump into each other at the grocery store while Monk was reorganizing every bottle of wine by date and shape.

The only way she was going to see him was if she planned it. And yet, less than twenty-four hours earlier, she was hiding from Monk. Now she was promising to be a regular character in his life again. What had changed?

I’ll tell you what changed. She discovered that, contrary to her fears, Monk didn’t hate her for abandoning him. And that fact opened up all kinds of possibilities she hadn’t considered before, like re-creating her old life in San Francisco as if the last few years hadn’t happened . . . as if I hadn’t happened.

“Isn’t it great that she’s back?” Monk said.

“I’m overcome with joy.”

“I’m sensing a little resentment from you,” he said.

“Really?” I said. “You must be a detective.”

"What do you have to be upset about on such a happy, happy day?”

“That,” I said, pointing at him. “You’re absolutely giddy.”

“You don’t like to see me happy?”

“Of course I do, Mr. Monk. I just don’t like what this burst of joy implies.”

“That I’m not sad?”

I couldn’t believe how dense he was. “Has your life been that miserable with me as your assistant?”

“No more miserable than usual,” he said.

“Then why do you want to fire me?”

“I don’t,” he said.

“Twice now, right in front of me, you’ve not so subtly offered Sharona my job.”

“How can you say that? I couldn’t possibly fire you,” he said. “Not after everything we’ve been through together.”

I felt tears welling up in my eyes. “Really?”

“I need you in my life, Natalie. Don’t you know that by now?”

“You don’t know what a relief that is to me and how much I needed to hear you say that,” I said, feeling embarrassed, ashamed and stupid. How could I have so seriously misjudged him? “When I saw how thrilled you were that Sharona was back, I was sure that you were going to give her my job.”

“Don’t be silly,” Monk said. “There’s plenty of me for both of you.”

My heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean by that?”

“You can share me,” Monk said. “I’ve always needed more time and attention than one person can give. This is the perfect solution.”

“You want to hire us both as your assistants?”

“Isn’t that wonderful? You could alternate days. Or days and nights. Or weeks. I’m a flexible guy. I’m sure you two gals will work it out.”

I wiped the tears from my eyes and felt my cheeks flushing with anger.

“Are you going to pay each of us ‘gals’ a full salary?”

“Why would I pay you a full salary for only doing half the work? Get real.”

“Okay, here’s the reality. I can barely live on what I get paid now working full-time for you,” I said. “I can’t live on half of that.”

“You could get a second job,” Monk said.