“Well, all right,” she said. “Sit down.”
“I’m sitting already,” he answered.
She closed the bathroom door and debated getting fully dressed again. She decided against it. He’d said he’d only take a minute, and she meant to keep him to that promise. She belted the robe tightly around her waist, turned up the collar to her throat, and then inspected herself in the mirror. The robe was a bulky terry cloth, unrevealing, thick, impenetrable. Satisfied, she put on her mules and went into the living room. Felix stood up when she came in.
“I hope I’m not bothering you,” he said.
“Not at all,” she answered, smiling politely. “What is it?” He seemed embarrassed to find her in a robe. The thought amused her slightly. She was completely and formidably covered, but nonetheless he avoided looking at her.
“I wanted to find out what you did with those azaleas,” he said.
“Azaleas?” She went to the coffee table, took a cigarette from the box there, and lighted it.
“Yes. Out front.”
“I don’t understand. I didn’t do anything with them.”
“You handle the gardening around here, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Eve said. She sat in one of the easy chairs, tucking the robe around her. Outside, the falling drizzle washed the development streets.
“Well, they’re coming along beautifully. Betty and I want to buy some, but we want to know first...” He paused. “You’ve got your hair back, haven’t you?”
“What?” Eve said.
“Your hair.”
Her hand went to the back of her neck. “Oh, yes.”
“It looks prettier loose.”
“Well, I don’t like shower caps,” she said. “It gets wet this way, but at least it’s manageable.”
“Why don’t you loosen it, Eve?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why don’t you take off the ribbon?”
“Because I’m going into the shower as soon as you leave.”
“But it looks prettier loose.”
“Well, I’ll wear it loose later.”
“Let it fall free, Eve,” he said. “Let it fall around your face.”
Eve did not answer him. She looked at him, puzzled.
“You have a very pretty face, Eve.”
“Thank you,” she said quickly. “About the azaleas, all I did was dig a hole and spread peat moss into the bottom of it. And I kept them watered. That’s all I did.” She rose. Felix kept sitting.
“When did you plant them?” he asked.
“In the spring.”
“Do you think I ought to wait for the spring?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged.
“Yes, but what do you think? Should I wait until the spring, or should I plant now?”
“I really don’t know, Felix. I don’t think August is very good for putting plants in, but it’s up to you. The nursery might not guaran—”
“Take off the ribbon, Eve,” Felix said.
“Felix, let’s not be foolish,” she said. “I have to take a shower.”
Felix stood up. She watched him as he walked toward her. For the first time since he had entered the house, she felt somewhat frightened. She did not move when he reached out to loosen the ribbon, and yet she felt she was succumbing, powerless to his will. She felt that if she allowed him to take off that silly piece of cloth, it would be the same as if he... as if he... but she did not move. She felt his fingers plucking at the silk. The ribbon fell. Her hair tumbled about her face. Felix moved back from her, the ribbon in his hands. The room was gray with the drizzle that oozed along the big picture window facing the street.
“There,” he said, “that’s better.” He grinned. “You’ve got a very pretty face, and very lovely eyes.”
Eve smiled nervously. “Well, I’m not going to argue with you about a ribbon,” she said, the words spilling from her mouth. “I doubt that the nursery will guarantee anything you plant in...”
“Eve....”
“... in August. You should consider that if...”
They saw the lightning streak simultaneously. It flashed across the sky with sudden, startling brilliance, a jagged, luminescent yellow-white. And then, after the space of a heart beat, the thunder followed, and the heavier rain was unleashed all at once, lashing across the development streets in unchallenged fury.
“It’s really beginning to come down,” Felix said.
“I’d better turn on the lights.”
“What for?”
“It’s... it’s getting dark in here.”
“Don’t you like to watch a storm?”
“Yes,” she said quietly.
“Then leave the lights out.”
Across the street she saw Arthur Garandi run toward his car with a newspaper over his head. He rolled up the windows and then ran back to the house.
“I like storms,” Felix said.
Eve said nothing. Their eyes met and held.
“Was it very painful?” Felix asked. “Taking off the ribbon.”
In a whisper, she said, “No.”
“Was it?” he demanded.
She raised her eyes to meet his. “No,” she said, slightly louder.
“Now take off the robe,” Felix said.
Lightning flashed into the sky, illuminating the room with its sudden electric glow. Thunder bellowed on the horizon.
“Take it off, Eve,” Felix said gently.
She did not answer. She kept staring at him. She could feel her loosened hair against her cheeks.
“Take it off, Eve,” Felix said. “You want to, and I know it.”
He took a slow step forward. She saw his hands reaching out, but she could not move to stop him. He grasped the lapels of her robe and with a swift motion pulled it open down the front. She felt cold air attack her nipples as her breasts spilled free. Felix backed away from her and studied her appraisingly. She made no motion to close the robe. She stood facing him, staring at him.
“Beautiful,” he said, and then he moved toward her again.
She brought her arm back and released it in a roundhouse swing, her open palm colliding with Felix’s cheek. The slap resounded in the dim silence of the room. Felix blinked.
“Get out,” she whispered.
Rubbing his face, Felix grinned and said, “Let’s not kid each other, Eve. I know what you want.”
“Get out,” she repeated, her voice a deadly whisper.
Felix kept grinning. “Sure, sure. But what we both know is that in about two minutes we’ll be in that other room.”
“Take your filthy eyes off me,” she said, and she pulled the robe shut. She belted the terry cloth and stood facing him, her eyes slitted, her voice going on in its controlled, furious whisper. “Get out of here before I call the police.”
“Now look, Eve,” Felix said, still grinning.
“Get out!”
“Come on, come on,” he said, stepping toward her.
“Oh, you filthy rotten bastard,” she said, and tears welled into her eyes, and in a moment of sudden recognition, Felix realized he’d miscalculated. He realized he’d committed a serious blunder. “Get out! Get out!” she said, and this time she hurled the words, and he could see she was beginning to tremble, and he was afraid she would scream in the next minute. He turned and went to the door. He did not say goodbye. Silently, he walked out into the rain.
Eve stood in the center of the room trembling. She did not want to cry, but she could not stop the tears. She cried into her open hand, and she said to no one, “Oh, the rotten filthy bastard,” crying uncontrollably while the lightning flashed across the sky outside.
It was still raining when Larry got home not ten minutes later. The living room was dark. Eve, in her robe, was still sobbing on the couch.
“What is it?” he said, rushing to her. “Eve, what’s the matter?”