The elevator door opened and I saw her standing there.
“Hi. Sweetheart,” I hugged her.
“Where the heck were you for so many months?” she asked lovingly.
“Hard labour, friend. Little time for self,” I bluffed.
She looked at the mirror, picked up her lipstick and decked up.
“So we meet next Thursday for my birthday,” she whispered. “Do visit home.”
“Sure, advance greetings,” I said.
“No one will believe I am turning 58, right?” she winked and waved her hand “bye.”