CONTESSA DOESN’T UNDERSTAND SMALL TALK

The diner’s morning rush came and went, leaving behind the usual aftermath—crumbs on the tables, spilt coffee on the counter, the faint scent of burnt toast hanging in the air. Contessa wiped down a booth with practised ease, her movements precise and methodical.

Task complete.

“Y’know, most people chat while they do that,” Maggie remarked, passing by with a tray of clean mugs.

Contessa paused. “Why?”

Maggie set the mugs down with a sigh, like she was preparing for a long conversation she wasn’t sure was worth the effort. “Because it makes work more pleasant. Fills the silence. People like to talk.”

That didn’t seem right. Contessa had been listening all morning, and most of the conversations she overheard contained no useful information. Customers discussed the weather, complained about traffic, and debated the best place to get pie. Even the cook, Dennis, spent his shift exchanging meaningless quips with the servers.

None of it served a purpose.

Still, if this was a social expectation, she could adapt.

Maggie finished setting up the counter and turned back, hands on her hips. “Go on, then. Try it out.”

Contessa considered. “The weather is overcast.”

Maggie stared. “Uh-huh.”

“There was a minor traffic delay this morning due to a delivery truck blocking Main Street.”

“Sure was.”

She searched for another topic. “Pie is popular.”

Maggie pinched the bridge of her nose. “Okay, wow. You’re worse at this than I thought.”

Contessa frowned. “I stated facts. That is what people do.”

“No, that’s what you do. Small talk isn’t about facts, hon. It’s about—” Maggie waved a hand vaguely, as if trying to summon the right words. “—connecting. Talking for the sake of talking. People like a little back-and-forth, a little personality.”

That seemed inefficient. But Maggie was her employer, and Contessa understood the importance of maintaining good workplace relationships.

She tried again.

“Maggie,” she said seriously, “what are your thoughts on mortality?”

Maggie turned on her heel and walked away.

Dennis, who had been eavesdropping from the kitchen window, let out a wheezing laugh. “Oh, yeah. You’re gonna fit in just fine.”