Eleanor carefully, delicately, carefully finishes the third cake, looks guiltily at Kostya.
Kostya (sadly lifting his gaze from the box to his wife). She took a sip, as I look…
Eleanor (guiltily). Uh-huh…
Kostya (sadly). Uh-huh…
Eleanor takes the last fourth cake out of the box, hands it to Kostya.
Kostya turns the box over, demonstrates that there is nothing left in it anymore. He looks at his wife, with a cake handed to him.
Kostya (sarcastically). Are you sure I should?
Eleanor (quickly, decisively) No, well, if you don't really want to, then so be it…
Eleanor pulls the last fourth cake to her, but Kostya quickly snatches it and puts it in her mouth. He stands chewing, looking at his wife with an imperturbable look.
Eleanor swallows her saliva, looks at her husband with hungry, offended eyes.
They exchange glances.
Kostya is chewing on a cake.
Kostya (triumphantly). That's it!
Eleanor steps aside, trying to let go of the situation and changing the subject. Grunting and groaning, he sits down on the sofa.
Eleanor (short of breath, hard, pausing to catch the air). Well… How are you doing… at work… Is everything okay?
Kostya (happily). Everything is wonderful! Two trucks were sent to St. Petersburg. An agreement was signed with the Finns. There are several more customers in Europe and…
Eleanor (interrupts, stopping her husband's story with a gesture of her hand). Understood-understood. In short, summarizing all this here …, we can state with full responsibility – you are handsome!
Kostya (happily, complacently). Without a doubt!
Eleanor is touched, looking at her husband. Quite exchange glances with mutual cunning.
Eleanor (playfully). Well… come here, handsome. Sit next to the fat aunt.
Eleanor pats the empty seat on the sofa next to her.
Kostya goes to his wife, sits down next to her, hugs her.
Kostya (smoothing the corners). Come on. How fat are you? Literally…, the most wonderful size. I've always appreciated your figure in you. To have something to take on, so to speak. And then this fashion… Look at you – look at what little girls are walking on the catwalks now. The legs are sticks, the handles are translucent. It's not that there's nothing to take on, it's scary to touch there – you won't pierce or break an hour. That's where the female power is. (He points to his wife, strokes her.) Where beauty lurks and natural charm.