Eve and the Spoon
Eve was Lil’s first. She was the forbidden fruit plucked and eaten. Eve was as plain looking as dry hospital toast. Whether her hair was raven black or navy blue, it was hard to tell. Perhaps one day she had slipped her hair on in the dark; applied one side black, and accidentally mismatched it with dark blue. There was nothing particular about her appearance, nothing to gain notice from anyone. Eve was not invisible, although she was clearly not seen.
At only thirty-eight years old, Eve had climbed Mount Everest, single-handedly raised a pod of motherless blue whales, danced nude in the moonlight with the Dalai Lama, and published four scientific studies on the plight of ear mites in the average house cat. Nature had given Eve an exterior that was a clever camouflage for her interior.
Eve invited Lil out to the country for a picnic. Lil was so nervous about the upcoming date she didn’t eat for three days. Nevertheless, mixing their stories during the car ride made Lil feel more at ease. Eve listened carefully as Lil described all the features on the standup band saw that she planned to buy for her workshop. Apparently, Eve was enthralled with the prospects of a power tool with such amenities as electronically adjustable blade tension.
The hike across a meadow and their leap over a small stream made them both laugh when Lil nearly lost her footing. They unfurled an oversized quilt under the spread of a large Tulip Poplar, still flaunting spring’s pink flowers. Smells of blossoms mixed with Kentucky bluegrass were exhilarating.
Lil had forgotten all about her nerves. She was ravenous. Eve opened the picnic basket and smiling, said, “I hope you’re hungry . . . ”
Nodding, Lil smiled.
From the basket Eve pulled out a fifth of bourbon, two glasses, and popped open the lid to an ice bucket. The basket was now empty. Slithering up to Lil, this time Eve said, without smiling, “I hope you’re hungry . . .”
Lil leaned in for a kiss, “I’m starving.”
Eve had a three-kiss maximum before her shirt came off. Eve reasoned, By the third kiss I know if I want it at all. And if I want it at all, I want it all.
Lil, intoxicated with opportunity, stripped and dove, skinny-dipping into Eve’s ocean. The soft currents of Eve’s rippling body crashed with each moan across Lil’s flesh. It’s between women’s legs where the greatest body of water lies. And like any pounding surf, the obvious danger has an immense magnetic pull.
Eve’s internal volcano began to rumble. Her body steamed and trembled. Nipples rose and her mouth gasped to let off excess pressure. However, no one rules their geological surges, and Eve’s volcano exploded, sending a tsunami of pleasure through their bodies.
Suddenly, a burning pain struck Lil’s legs that blew her off the ground and onto her feet. “HOLY SHIT!” she screamed.
Panicking, Eve sat up, “What’s wrong?!”
Jumping around nude, Lil cried, “Oh my God! Oh, my God it’s ants! Damn fucking biting ANTS!”
Grabbing Lil’s hand, Eve ordered, “Get to the stream!” With Lil’s feet on fire the two lovers dashed naked across the meadow with pain. “Ahhhhh . . .” She whimpered as the icy water soothed the burn.
They embraced for a long time, knee deep in the rushing water, until neither of them could stand the cold any longer. It was a long, slow walk back to their blanket and bourbon. That was twenty years ago, and still Lil can’t help but feel a twinge of sexual excitement every time she sees ants.
Like lesbians will do, it was only days before Eve and Lil moved in together. Their love was certain. The ants were a test that their love would last forever. Everything was wonderful. They filled their small apartment with trinkets, toys, and ever more experimental sex. Eve’s lust for Lil was insatiable. Lil called her little darling, “Eve Evermore.”
Sadly, pleasure and bliss were like a slow developing rash to Eve. It took almost a year before the itch to seek out misery overcame her. Arguments ensued. Lil tried everything to fix their problems, but even the most adept handywoman cannot repair a wandering soul. Lil rationalized that even if Eve took everything else she did leave behind a note saying goodbye. In her tears and on her knees, alone she begged God for her love to return.
In the shower weeks later, Lil finally realized that Eve was not coming back. Sobs, commingled with the water spray, flooded her naked, heaving body while Lil cried over and over again, “Eve Nevermore, Eve Nevermore . . .”
When Lil found the spoon between the couch cushions, she endured a smile. She and Eve had bought the silver set at an antique mall. On that day Eve rooted out the silver place settings for twelve. Each piece was engraved with an elaborately linked E and L on the handle.
Eve squealed, “Lil, here it is! It’s our set of cutlery!”
Heaps of overly used, bent, and tarnished silver pieces were waiting for them in a walnut box lined with dark blue velvet. Of course, Lil carried the box to the cashier and paid an exorbitant sum, being that it was such a large set. The cost really didn’t matter. Even the box lining was the color of her love’s hair.
Once home, they spread the silver out on the bed to polish it. On that magically charming day they joked about what the more peculiar cutlery pieces.
“Look, Eve Evermore!” Lil said, “This little bitty fork is obviously designed for nose picking. With this, we will really come up a notch or two in the social standing of proper etiquette.”
Eve licked the insides of two spoons, attached them to her bare nipples and danced around the room. Lil tackled her. They made love amongst the silver. Passion continued, regardless of the salad fork poking Lil in the thigh. Lil was accustomed to the pain of loving Eve.
So that bittersweet afternoon, Lil found the spoon hidden in the couch. When Eve took everything, except the couch, she unknowingly left the spoon behind. A couch, a spoon, and a hole in her heart were all Lil had left.
Since then, Lil has moved seven different times, each location a better spot. She felt a sense of liberation the day she finally bought a new set of silverware, although in reality, Lil seldom used it, preferring her tarnished little spoon.
Lil’s Promiscuous Period followed Eve’s departure. For several years she reveled in slicing and dicing hearts with more efficiency than any Roncomatic product. That was trailed by spurts of celibacy and dalliances with the all too obviously wrong woman. But eventually Lil was ready to try love on again.