Does she have a minute? Of course. It’s a publishing company. She’s an editor. Sometimes things happen fast, but generally not. She’s already spent more energy today polishing the shiny red apple of Vanya’s note than on any work-related task. Supposition, re-examination, anticipation of reply. No reply has been sent, yet, of course, nor even crafted or drafted. She wants a little time to coddle this bright shiny fruit before biting in.
Holding this apple behind her back, she feels braver, warmed by language and delight.
Outcomes of this encounter:
1. Oksana immediately asks if the offending stain is hot chocolate. She does not appear angry, but sniffs delicately, as if to indicate disdain. Or, said more directly, to directly indicate disdain.
2. A curt thank-you for the delivery on Saturday. Mention of Adrian. Aileen looks sideways at Oksana, to measure her expression, but this is extremely difficult geometry to execute when standing directly in front of her.
3. Oksana’s inquiry about Aileen’s health is unnaturally brief, for two discernible reasons.
a. Aileen’s alleged headache may have been revealed to be a scam by Adrian, and anyway, even if it was a headache, it was nothing like being so hugely pregnant.
b. Aileen’s failure to inquire after Oksana’s health is inexcusable.
4. As Aileen is leaving, Oksana offers her an apple from a old-styled new-looking ceramic bowl on the corner of her desk. “The ugliest one for you,” she says. “You should never eat the pretty apples, you know. They are full of chemicals.” She smiles insistently, then insists smilingly. “They’re from our dacha. Take two.”
No comments:
Post a Comment