“Why Eve?” he said.
He’d taken me to an Italian restaurant, even though this dentist was Armenian. But the place fit him perfectly: old-fashioned, red and white checkered tablecloths, ruddy carpeting, dim lighting, and squat, tacky wine bottles. All offered up without irony. Just like him. His smile was manufactured (literally), his eyes too silver; his hair too moussed, and his collar so wide I could see an acre of curling chest hair. He smelled like an open bottle of Old Spice.
“It’s protean,” I said.
His mouth opened. The same expression as Angie’s.
“Ah,” he said. “Protean as in . . .”
“As in?”
“Yes. Protean as in . . . “
“As in?”
“Protean as in . . .”
I groaned.
“Taking on different shapes. Variable.”
He nodded with Armenian vigor. “Yes. That’s what I was about to say.”
He signaled across the floor to our waitress. Then he leaned in closer.
“Does this mean,” he said, “that you have recently taken on a new shape?” I detected a singular leer.
“Eve did.”
“Ah,” he said.
When the waitress came, he ordered a glass of wine. Then he watched her bum for five full seconds as she walked away. I suspected that show is why he called her over in the first place. He’d watched her the same way after we ordered our food.
His eyes came back. “So,” he said, “does this mean you have taken on a new shape?”
“Eve did.”
He stopped. He remembered. A tiny grimace of embarrassment.
“Right. Good old Eve. Where would we be without her and Adam?”
“Nowhere. No world as we know it.”
The waitress brought his wine. He snatched one more glance at her bum. Then he raised his glass. I raised my Pepsi.
“And no sin,” he said.
“Right.” I stared him in the eyes. “Eve, you know, was the original temptress.”
He blanched.
“She could make Adam do anything she wanted,” I said. “ She could bring him down.”
His eyes looked like they were pinned in place. He nodded primly, took a long swallow of wine, and gazed hopelessly across the restaurant. Not a waitress in sight. Suddenly, he looked at his watch.
“I forgot to tell you,” he said. “I have a patient coming later.”
“Tonight?”
“It’s a personal favor.”
“On a Friday night?”
“It’s a favor.”
“Must be.”
“I’m not even charging her.”
“When?”
“Pretty soon.”
“They haven’t brought our food yet.”
“That’s all right. You go ahead and eat.”
“You’re leaving now?”
“In a minute.”
“But why did you order? Why did we even come here?”
He shrugged. “I’m sorry, Rosa.”
I stood up. I sat back down. I went through my purse. I found a pad. I found a pen.
TELL MY MOTHER I WARNED HER. SIGNED, EVE.
I ripped the piece of paper off the pad and threw it at the blank space between his stunned silver eyes.
“Why did you attack him, Rosa?”
“My name is Eve.”
“Why did you attack him?”
“I threw a piece of paper at him.”
“It cut his skin, darling. He said it caused an open wound.”
“Please.”
“What?”
“Did you tell him, mother?”
“Tell him what?”
“You know what.”
“What I know what? Why do you talk in riddles?”
“You told him he could call me Rosa, didn’t you?”
“I said nothing like that.”
“What did you say?”
“I said nothing.”
“Did you tell him he must call me Eve?”
Silence.
“You didn’t, did you?”
“Well, the thing...“
“Actually, it doesn’t matter,” I said. “The man was a creep.”
“Don’t say that, darling. He’s hurting.”
“I could have hurt him worse.”
“He’s a very nice man.”
“I could never have babies with him, mother.”
Silence.
“Truthfully,” she said, “I never really liked him either. But I thought you might. There is one more man.”
“Mother...“
“Trust me on this.”
“Trust you? Trust you?”
“This man is my ace in the hole. This is the one I was saving.”
“For what?”
“For when you were ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“Ready for him.”
I sighed. I collapsed on my sofa and watched the long, rubbery cord as it stretched further from the kitchen wall. I wasn’t strong enough to fight, after all.
“I just want to be called by my real name.”
“Not a problem, darling. I will give him his orders.”
I said nothing.
“I swear,” she said.
