I just looked at Eve and thought, Oh my god, she’s right. I just referred to Eliza in the past tense. What does that mean?
“Well, just because it’s something she did in the past,” I said. “She’s not dead.”
“No. Thank heaven. But is she in your past?”
Boy, Eve really had a helluva campaign laid out, didn’t she? I couldn’t remember her being this aggressive. Maybe she couldn’t separate from Carl unless she had someone else in her life. Like me. A lot of people were like that. But I wasn’t going to be her exit ramp.
“No, Eve, she’s not.”
Eve shifted in her seat, uncomfortable with my response.
The waiter returned.
“Have we decided? Ma’am?”
“I’ll have the beet salad and the flounder,” she said, handing him the menu. “Thanks.”
Jeesch. That had to be the most unimaginative thing on the menu.
I said, “And I’ll have the steak tartare and the rack of lamb.”
“Medium rare?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Very good. And would you like to order a bottle of wine?”
“Well, since my friend is having fish and I’m having red meat, maybe we should just order by the glass. How’s that, Eve?”
Her glass was empty.
“Would you care for another glass?” the waiter said.
“Please,” she said. “It’s a sauvignon blanc.”
He disappeared into the throng. The restaurant was filling up. There was jazz music being played on the other side of the dining room. All in all, I knew Eliza would shoot me dead if she could’ve seen me then.
Then the next worst thing that could have happened, happened. In came Cookie, Clarabeth, and Dad, all dressed up for a night on the town. Dad was even wearing a suit. When Cookie saw me she started screaming. She all but ran to our table and began to rant and rave like a crazy person. The other guests in the restaurant became very quiet.
“Are you kidding me? Are you kidding me? Eliza is gone for forty-eight hours and you’re already fooling around with my daughter again? Have you no shame?”
“Mom! Stop! I called Adam and invited him to dinner!”
“You call yourself innocent in that dress?” Then she whispered, “You’re a tramp.”
“That’s not nice. We’re just having dinner, Cookie,” I said.
That shut Cookie up for about five seconds, then she leaned into me and said, “You listen to me. You should’ve said no.” Then she stood back and looked from Eve to me. “Shame on both of you.”
My father came and took Cookie by the arm to lead her away. He looked disgusted.
“Enjoy your dinner, son.”
Gone was the look of approval I was accustomed to seeing in his eyes.
He turned and walked away. I saw them leave the restaurant, abandoning their reservation. I was mortified. Eve, on the other hand, was perfectly sanguine.
“You still hungry?” I said, thinking it was time for the check.
“I’m starving,” she said. “My mother is a lunatic.” Then she turned to the other patrons and said, “Mom’s off her meds. Sorry for the excitement.”
They nodded, and the ladies gave me looks of pity, as they thought I was a recent widower, but on the faces of the men were silent thumbs-ups for having such a gorgeous dinner companion and, may we add, she has the most delightful sense of humor?
“Eve, Eve, Eve. What am I to do with you?”
“Just love me, Adam. That’s all I want. I just want to feel like someone in this world loves me.”
“Carl loves you, Eve.”
“Then why did he walk out on me?”
“Because you and I did something selfish that broke a boundary.” Then I thought, Um, did I really say that?
Our first courses were delivered.
“I’m not happily married and you know it.”
“And we’re doing it again tonight.” I paused for a moment, watching her push her salad from one side of the plate to the other. I took a bite of my steak tartare. It was melt-in-your-mouth good. “Would you like a bite of this?”
“Raw meat? No, thanks.”
I’d never realized she was such a picky eater.
“So, Eve? Do you really think that you want to divorce Carl?”
“Adam, I didn’t tell you this at the beach, but he has pictures of a woman’s breasts on his phone and they’re not mine.”
“Are you serious?”
“He might be a doctor, but he’s no Einstein. He uses the same password on everything. His mother’s birthday. Not mine, not our daughter’s—his mother’s.”
“A good shrink would know what to do with that. I don’t. So, he knows that you know this? About the pictures, I mean.”
“He has to know. I think that maybe he moved out to avoid getting kicked out.”
“Where did he go?”
“I think he’s at a hotel next to the hospital,” Eve said.
“Jesus, Eve, I’m so sorry.” I leaned back in my chair. “What a mess.”
The waiter took away our appetizers and another waiter delivered our entrées.
“Yep. I’ve got a nice fat big mess on my hands.”
“I’ve gotta tell you. I’m surprised, and I’ll be really surprised if there’s not a reasonable explanation for this. Make that a believable explanation.”
If I were Carl, I’d have an ironclad alibi for everything on my phone. How could he be so sloppy?
She began to pick at her fish, taking the tiniest of bites. Maybe she’d simply lost her appetite. I could’ve picked up my lamb chops with my hands and gnawed them to the bone like Henry VIII, they were so tender and tasty.
“Something wrong with the fish?” I said.
“No, I was just thinking that I planned to stay with my mother tonight, but now I really don’t feel like going there. And it’s too far to drive out to the beach. Maybe I’ll see if they have a room here.”
“Well, at least you’d be able to sleep in peace,” I said.
chapter 15
eliza
It was dusk when Kiki rolled up to the house, and off we went to her mother’s house, my theia Anna. I wondered if I would recognize anyone there. Or if they would remember me at all. And maybe there would be stories about my mother I’d never heard. I knew that would be asking for a lot. After all, my mother died forty years ago or more.
“Oh, my God, wait till you see! Mother has gone off the deep end! She’s been cooking all day and night and so have her friends. There’s moussaka and lamb and lamb sausages and octopus and breads and oh, you won’t believe. And desserts? There’s enough baklava to feed the entire Greek navy! I don’t think there’s a grape leaf, a block of feta, a pistachio nut, or a teaspoon of honey left on this island!”
“I can’t wait!” I said. “I loved our dinner at your friend’s taverna. I’ve always loved Greek food anyway. There’s only one Greek restaurant in Charleston and they make the juiciest roasted chicken. I can’t wait to see everyone.” I was a nervous wreck.
“We’re going to have a wonderful night.”
“I wish I spoke Greek,” I said. “I apologize in advance for all the translating you’ll probably have to do.”