The daughter

A flustered, just-past middle-aged woman blustered into Kristina’s office like a pigeon chasing scraps of bread. Her hands were full of shopping bags and her dress and hair, disheveled.

“You have to tell me,” the lady blurted.

Kristina rose from her designer armchair, and walked towards the lady, extending her hand. “Hello. My name is Kristina,” she said in a carefully modulated voice.

“Well I know that,” the lady replied. “I read it in the advertisement. It said that you are very good at finding lost people.”

“I’m very good at helping lost people find their way,” said Kristina. The month before, Kristina had coined a new tagline in her ads in the Middlesburg Gazette but kept forgetting it. “Helping the lost find their way,” she recited in her head.

“Oh,” said the woman, who was now strangely still. She examined Kristina taking in her cropped hair and black pantsuit. “You aren’t what I expected.”

“I can assure you Mrs…”

“Green.”

“Mrs. Green. I am very qualified and have had great success,” Kristina replied, “helping the lost find their way.”

Mrs. Green looked around the minimalist white and black office and said, “This isn’t very welcoming. You don’t even have  any incense burning. And those chairs don’t look very comfortable.”

Kristina approached her and said, as soothingly as she could, “Let me take your bags. You can find a seat and I can get you a cup of coffee?”

“No tea?” the woman replied.

Kristina’s stomach clenched and she said, “If you’d like, I have some Earl Grey?”

The woman sighed and held out her bags to Kristina, “Oh alright then. I really thought you people were herbal. My last psychic did that holistic medicine thing. Do you do that? I’m just not sure about this. This looks like a shrink’s office. What kind of psychic are you anyway.”

Kristina gave Mrs. Green a tight smile and took the bags. “Would you like milk or sugar?”

“Oh,” said Mrs. Green, sighing heavily again. “You don’t have honey? Or soya milk?”

“I’m afraid not,” replied Kristina as she rested the bags on the nearby coffee table.

Mrs. Green sat  on the nearest chair. “Whatever, it’ll be fine. I guess. Lots of milk. And three teaspoons of sugar.”

Kristina returned with a large mug full of the sweet milky tea and placed it on the table beside Mrs. Green. Mrs. Green grabbed it and gave it slurp. She sighed again, this time gratefully. “It’s perfect,” she said.

Kristina sat across from her and smiled. “You haven’t talked to your daughter in a long time,” she stated.

Mrs. Green began to weep.