I just, I can’t even talk about this anymore.  It just hurts so much.  Looking down, Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I’m such a mess.  Alice apologized as she began wiping away the remnant of tears on her cheeks.  Helena reached into her Louis Vuiton handbag and pulled out an embroidered handkerchief for the blonde.  Alice dabbed at the corners of her eyes in a weak attempt to wipe off her running mascara.

            Here, let me.  Helena insisted as she placed her hands over Alice’s, taking the handkerchief, first, dipping it into the water goblet and then gently wiping it around the reporter’s puffy brown eyes.

            This is so embarrassing.  I’m sorry.  Alice blushed in her embarrassment.

            Stop apologizing and stop being embarrassed, you’re lucky the water glass was here or else I might have spit on the handkerchief to wipe your face off with – I am a mother after all!  Helena teased to lighten the mood of their luncheon; it was apparent that the blonde had finished discussing her heartbreak.

            The remainder of their lunch was a pleasant exchange of various topics from clothes, books to coffee and food.  Finally, Alice mustered the courage to inquire as to why Helena was at the psychiatrist’s office.  Now that I’ve spilled my guts to you, can I ask what you were doing at Dr. Bradshaw’s office this afternoon? 

            Good question.  Besides the usual, I’m fucked up because of Peggy answer, I’ll show you; it’s along the way back to your car, if you’ve got time this afternoon.  It will probably be quicker than a verbal explanation.  Helena said as she paid the check the waiter brought just moments before, ignoring Alice’s vane attempt at reaching for the slim black folder enclosing their check.  Don’t even think about it Miss Alice, my treat, remember!  She said without looking up.

            Heading back toward the parking lot of Dr. Bradshaw’s office, Helena took the Bentley on a detour.  Over on the left, just right there.  The brunette pointed out the car window.

            Wait, a movie studio?  Alice asked, a quizzical look adorning her face.

            That’s right.  I thought it would never happen, but I’ve decided to go ‘Hollywood.’  After Veronica Bloom’s recent drug overdose, the studio was scrambling for financial support and I thought, oh what the *****, why not.  This way, maybe people will accosting me in town to finance the latest Maggie Gylenhaal film.  She explained driving past the studio and signaling the turn into the parking lot of the psychiatrist’s office where Alice’s Mini was still parked.  Anyways, this studio is turning into the biggest pain in the arse and I’m stressed and worried about all the details.  You know what that prick Bradshaw recommended though, rather than meds, he gave me the contact information for a Yoga instructor!  Helena pulled up next to Alice’s blue Mini and got out just as the blonde was exiting her car.  She walked around to the passenger side, noticing how tired and vulnerable the reporter looked; Helena couldn’t help but wrap her arms around Alice.  It was good catching up with you.  I’m glad you told me how you really are doing.  She whispered into Alice’s ear.