One day, Eve will live in infamy as the temptress who seduced the first man into partaking in the original sin but, for the moment, she is merely a frustrated new wife cooking a gazpacho, minus garlic, onion, basil and cilantro this time, for a man of insipid taste, devoid of eroticism. Her friend / confidant / pet snake is at her side, as always, teasing her with filthy jokes and suggestions to spice up her marital bed (she already told him she has abandoned her hopes of expanding Adam’s food palate). Her eyes roll and the snake chortles as she recounts how Adam already let her know at least one intimacy would be forever off the table. Eve quotes Adam in that low-pitched-drrr voice she always gives him: “My ex-wife wanted me to put my mouth on her you-know-w-h-a-t! … Can you believe that?…What kind of a woman would even come up with such a thing?”

Eve laughs along with the snake because what else is she going to do?  That moment with Adam was partly her fault. She could have defended Lilith. Told Adam he was being a big baby. That several years without real pleasure was unacceptable and no wonder Lilith walked out. But when Adam leaned in and said, “Want to hear something about her that is totally disgusting?” Eve’s hopes soared that maybe this time he’d disavow his first love. Not just the levy the muted criticism about her being “complicated.” Which is always followed up by comments about how much better his life is, now that he has a partner that’s a “true help-meet.”

“Ssssounds like lover boy coming up the path.” The snake gestures to the window.

Adam’s head is down when he comes through the door. He is always in a mood after meeting with Lilith at the garden gate.

“We didn’t really get more of the details about the kids figured out. She had The Hatchling with her.” That is Adam’s nickname for Lilith’s new man. Officially, he is an angelic being, technically above Adam, but he is small, pink and winged with crooked teeth and tufts of white hair. “I don’t even know what she could possibly see in him,” Adam says, shaking his head.

Eve doesn’t mention that she sometimes peers over the garden wall, something that started when her curiosity about her predecessor got the best of her. She doesn’t say that she sees the two of them giving each other sly little smiles and leaning into each other as though they are the only people in the world. 

Or that she wonders what her own life could look like if her purpose in life wasn’t to be easygoing.