Page 17 of The Single Dad's Guide to Recreation

By the time I enter the building, I feel like I’ve left most of my worries outside, sharp edges smoothed by the sweet scents of wildflowers, the chirping of birds, and the sparkles of sunlight reflecting off the fountains.

No wonder everyone in town wants a job here.

“Good morning. How are you today?” A person steps away from the reception desk to greet me. “I’m Van, my pronouns are they and them, and I’m so happy to welcome you to Trede.”

Still in a daze, I stumble over my words as well as my feet as I respond. “Oops. Uh-um, good.”

They clasp their hands together. “I love that for you.”

Since they haven’t asked what my business is at Trede, I return the question. “How are you?”

“I am awesome. It’s a beautiful day and I’m happy to be here talking to you.”

“Okay. Good. Well, I was hoping to see Josh Harmon? I don’t have an appointment, but?—”

“No worries.” Van waves, like they’re swooshing all my cares away. Striding back to the desk, they pick up a tablet and punch in a few things. “Let me just see… Fiddlesticks! Josh is in a scrum at the moment, dealing with some bugs in the UX, but he’ll probably be free in a bit.”

They turn back to me, rubbing their hands together likeHave I got plans for you!“Want a tour while you wait?”

“Oh, well, I’m not a client or a person who does… whatever it is Trede does.”

Van goes hands on hips, looking affronted. “Do you live in Climax?”

“I do.”

“Well, if you’re a member of the Climax community”—they sweep their hands in a circle—“you’re a member of our community.”

“Uhhh…”

Jumping up and down, they clap like a little kid. “Come on, let’s go!”

I point to the door. “What if someone comes?”

They catch the eye of an East Indian woman walking down the hall and wave at her. “Meena, I’m taking the lovely Avery on a tour.”

Meena redirects her path and plops down behind the desk. “Have fun, Avery!”

As Van steers me down the hall, I crane my neck back to watch her spin in the chair. “Doesn’t she have her own work to do?”

They shake their head. “We’re both in OS, so it’s cool.”

Hopefully, I’ll get some context clues because I have no idea what OS is.

Van shows me around the lower floor, split in two by an atrium filled with actual live trees, another fountain, and what looks like a self-serve snack bar. An auditorium takes up one side; the other is broken up into a meditation room, a yoga room, and a traditional gym. Except for the auditorium, every space has a view of the river.

“Being able to contemplate water is so healing,” Van explains.

On the next floor, people work on computers. Some at traditional desks, others in couches or squishy chairs that look like they’d swallow you. People have dogs curled up at their feet. Fidget toys and tension balls are piled in baskets, and plants grow up trellises and hang from the ceiling.

“Would you like a milkshake?” Van asks. “We source the cow and goat and oat milks from local farms.”

Before I can decline, Van gets my flavor and milk preferences, pushes a bunch of buttons on a machine, and then hands me a mocha almond freeze, which is delicious and exactly the sweet pick-me-up I didn’t know I needed.

The next floor has more workspaces, plus game rooms with laser tag and nerf basketball. It’s only when a man in a coat and tie lifts a plastic bag of what looks like garbage from a bin that I finally ask one of the many questions running through my mind.

“Does the janitor have to wear a tie?”

“Ken?” Van tips their head in the direction of the garbage-carrying person. “He’s the director of IS. Kind of like Josh's counterpart but inward facing.”

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