Monday

When I come back from meeting, am surprised and pleased to see the Contessa waiting in my office. Ask how she is. She says that the gossip mill at the other building is in fine form. (Experience brief bitter moment of feeling left out of all gossip). She says that she was bearing up until the Vice-Boss came in and asked to Speak to Her in her office. Once in the office, door shut behind her, she was wrapped up in a hug--the vice-boss is anorexic again--and the Contessa says that she could hear bone scraping on bone. Then the Vice-Boss talked about her failed marriage. And then she cried, and asked the Contessa if she had any Kleenex, and if not, then maybe she could go buy some for the office??? The Contessa says she took the money offered--three crumpled up ones fished out from bag--and hasn't been back yet. The Contessa looks like she is about to cry herself. Ask tentatively, Did the New Man come into work today? She replies, He wouldn't dare. Judging from the look on the Contessa's face, can well believe it, but wonder why she didn't call in sick today too. Ask how she is doing otherwise. She shakes her head no, gathers up her coat and says that she is going for a walk and she might end up back at my apartment if that is OK, but that she isn't going to cry anymore. Tell her yes, of course, and no, of course she won't.