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Leaning over her latte, Jen sighed. “Madelyn, I need to talk to someone, desperately. Can’t talk to my mother. I’ll never forgive her. Thinks she knows what’s best. What does she know about life?”
Madelyn made sympathetic noises.
“Everyone’s so concerned with themselves. Most of the conversations I hear are just bile. Narcissistic crap. Do people care? For crying out loud. Where can I find sincerity, trust, compassion? Maybe just decency?”
“I’m always eager to listen, Jen,” Madelyn said putting a hand on the other woman’s arm.
“You? Are you kidding? I don’t know anyone more superficial than you are.”