+TYPED OUT-

+GRETA-

"She loves that rhino. Remember how I had to have it flown to Ireland last Christmas."

"Yes, I do," Kenneth replied while observing how the little girl hugged the toy.

"Greta, dinner is ready."

There was no madame or Mrs. in Greta's mansion. Everyone called the million dollars woman Greta. They moved to the dining room, where the privileged guests waited. They ate and laughed, and the woman got her gifts. None could offer Greta anything of greater value than what she could buy herself. The woman had everything, still Rose, an authentic Lliclla, a cape part of Andean traditional clothing in Peru.

"This is beautiful, Rose. Thank you so much."

Mr. Peterson and Ronald offered her David Bowies' Brillant Adventure 1992-2001 vinyl she always talked about when she did an inventory of her collection.

"No, how did you find it?"

"Greta, we wouldn't have been able to without Mr. Moselys' help."

"Oh, this is fantastic," Greta said.

Lara clapped; the little girl loved having people around. The house was huge. There were never enough people everywhere. There, at least, they were all in the same room; it was fun.

And the most fun part was still to come with the birthday cake. Laras' eyes sparkled as the lights went out, and the cake and its candles entered while everyone sang.

"Make a wish," Rose said, but Greta placed Lara on her knees and let her daughter blow the candles in her stead.

"Greta, why?" Ronald asked.

Kenneth remained silent as he knew what she would say, "I already have everything I could wish for in a lifetime."

The guests left after the dessert. Greta went to read Lara a bedtime story while Kenneth cleared up and set the dishwasher.

"I'm going to start to think you only invited me to have me do this," Kenneth said when the woman joined him in the kitchen."

"True, you're the only minion I can find on this day."

"Ha-ha-ha."

Greta approached to help him.

"Have a seat. It's your birthday."

"Wow, Mr. Mosely, what gentleman. So tell me, how are you?"

"I'm good."

The woman observed him a minute, "Kenneth."

"What?"

"I know you like my back pocket; who is it?" Greta asked.

"Why do you think someone is involved?"

"Because you have the face of a puppy stuck under the rain."

Kenneth stopped rinsing the glasses and sighed, "I met someone."

"Really and?" Greta asked. Her eyes gleamed like those of a child waiting for one of her favorite fairytales to be told.

The woman couldn't guess how Kenneth was about to cut the tale short when he answered, "and nothing, it's over."

"Why?" Greta exclaimed.

Kenneth sneered, "why what?"

"Why is it over?" Greta asked as she came to stand next to him.

"She wasn't meant for me."

Greta shook her head, "no, one ever is. You know that love is something people work towards."

"It has nothing to do with sentiments," Kenneth returned.

"Then what?"

"She smokes."

The woman nodded, "Oh, I see, and you didn't know, but you found out."

"Greta, you know Iㅡ."

"I know, but does she?" Greta interrupted.

"No, no, she doesn't know anything about my mother."

"Then tell her, I can only imagine the abrupt end you must have put her through. You can be such a boor sometimes."

"Pardon, a boor. Come on, Greta."

"What? It's true. You get on your high horse and treat people like shit when you're done with them."

Kenneth held his head, "oh, my, what the hell. Listen, Greta, you're lucky it's your birthday."

Greta smiled, "it's the reason why I'm telling you this. I'm using my day's privilege."

Kenneth sighed and pursued, "I don't need to tell her; I said it's over."

"Do you love her?"

Kenneth shrugged, "I barely know her. Don't push it, Greta, please."

"I didn't ask that. I asked if you were in love with her." There was no stopping Greta once she had something in mind. The trait was both admirable and daunting for Kenneth.

"Greta, she smokes. End of story."

"How did you feel?" The woman pushed him. Kenneth was a man of many layers, he made sure everyone saw only the surface he controlled, but Greta knew how to peel him.

Kenneth looked at the kitchen door. The idea of making a run for it was tempting, but he knew it wasn't enough to stop her. He turned to face her, "what?"

"How did you feel when you found out?"

Kenneth tilted his head back. Keeping things to himself was a strain. He accepted the shoulder Greta offered and expelled his thoughts, "I felt betrayed. I was afraid."

"Of what, what scared you, Kenneth?"

"I don't want to live through it again."

"So you left her without explaining anything. Gosh, you are a fool."

"Greta, cigarettes kill."

The woman chuckled, "yes, and so does alcohol, riding a bike, having sex, anything you do with excess can kill you. You know that."

"We weren't compatible anyway."

"Oh, don't come with that rubbish. Love isn't an equation. No, Kenneth, your mother lied to you. She was so afraid of falling in love and being deceived again that she voluntarily transferred her fear onto you. You're not happy alone. You're a man scared out of his wits to be with someone."

"Oh, you can talk; look at you."

"What about me? Kenneth, I'm alone because I'm selfish as fuck. I love myself too much to share myself. I adopted so I could at least have someone crying over my grave. I do all this charity work because I have too much money, and I prefer to give it to the needy than to a tax collector. I'm just a selfish woman, Kenneth. You're different; you need people, the attention, and the devotion to have that semblance of love you have deprived yourself of since your youth. It's the reason why you keep that chihuahua PA around you, to have the affection without dealing with the responsibilities of a relationship."

"So you're into psychoanalysis now? I'm not a narcissistic pervert, okay."

"Yes, but you could become one if you carry on. So please stop with the nonsense and tell me a bit more about this woman."

Kenneth finished cleaning, and they sat down to talk.

"You asked me if I loved her earlier."

Greta nodded.

"I didn't know until I saw her with that cigarette. The idea of losing her, of losing her to this deadly addiction, tetanized me. It's crazy; I barely know her andㅡ."

Greta smiled, "that's how love is, Kenneth. It's terrifying yet so worthwhile."

Kenneth frowned, "but youㅡ."

"I what never loved? I have, and no, it wasn't you. It was a long time ago; he's married and happy now. And I'm happy alone."