A good question, that. They didn't want to hear "fine". In a society that's giving participation awards to everyone who shows up, (and then not able to explain away business cutting everyone who doesn't make the grade) I don't blame them for being jittery at being told "You're doing fine."
So I stopped short of the glorious sunlight beckoning me outdoors, and looked each of them in the eye. You're doing good, I told them. None of your mistakes are catastrophic, they're all well within what I expect from people in their first week, and you both are making fewer mistakes as you get everything down. You've caused me no headaches, and you've helped get the job done. Y'all are doing good, and I expect you're going to only get better and faster from here, as you get mentally and physically used to the job.
My new subordinates surprised me, then. The older one nodded, and thanked me, and then stuck out his hand. I gave him a good shake, because I don't do weak or limp handshakes, and shook the hand of the younger one that followed his lead. I'm used to handshakes on sealing deals, and on greetings and sometimes farewells after get-togethers or church (but I'm a lady; I usually hug friends instead.) I'm not sure if that was a farewell shake, or if we sealed something there. But, hey, they seemed happy with the honest (if not particularly carefully phrased) answer.
On the way home, I rolled down the windows to some cool August air, cranked up the Cruxshadows, and then burst out laughing. See, when I was a teen, I once wanted to play hooky. But after cutting the class, I realized there was nowhere to go when you don't have a car, nothing to do if you don't have money, no one to do it with, and it would all be soured by a fear of getting caught anyway. So I went back to class, pulled the next Baen book out of my bag, stuck it in the textbook, and escaped into another world.
I'm mumble years old now, three inches taller and mumble pounds heavier, with some pretty scarred up joints to mark the adventures along the way - but now I can take a day off in the bright sunshine, with a car and a plane to go anywhere, cash in the wallet and credit card to finance any whim, and a husband to get into adventures with me. It took a while, but I have everything my teenage self wanted so badly. (Except for being an astronaut, but, well, give me a few more decades of living and accumulating cash, and Virgin Galactic / Space X moving forward with space tourism, and we'll see!)
Life's pretty good, y'know?