Menagerie...you know, the guy used to call her Blue Roses...” She trailed off. She had thought it was a cute story, but he seemed to be coming up blank on even the most rudimentary theatrical knowledge. “Okay, what’s your bike’s name?”
“It doesn’t have one. Who names a bike?”
“So it’s fine for cars to have names, but bikes are unworthy? I think that’s pretty racist of you, doctor,” she teased as she pulled out of the parking lot. “What do you want to eat?”
“Pancakes?”
She scrunched up her nose. “I don’t eat carbs or dairy.”
“Like ever? So what do you eat?”
“Fish. Salad. Some low glycemic fruits and the occasional chicken breast.”
“Okay, so if you were going to indulge you’d eat....?”
“Berries.”
“Are you a chipmunk?”
“No. I’m an actress, and I have to keep fit.”
“You look pretty fit to me.”
“No offense, but you’re not a director.”
“No, I’m a doctor. I’m an expert on the human form. And your form is very nice.”
“Thanks, but you’re not in charge of casting. I’m still carrying around six extra pounds that I have to get rid of. I’m not getting a lot of work now because my age and now my weight.”
“Your age? What are you, thirty?”
“No. I’m twenty-seven,” she huffed. “Why, do I look thirty?”
“I know that. I read your medical chart, remember? I just wanted to see you get riled up.” Abe grinned at her and she stuck her tongue out at him.
“Sushi?”
“Sushi is bait. I don’t eat raw stuff. I’m a doctor. Contamination. Pathogens.”
“So you also have dietary restrictions.”
“I like to eat things that are cooked. Burgers, for example. Fries. Milkshakes.”
“Not on my diet.”
Abe couldn’t help being a little impressed. She wasn’t whining about the diet and how much she wanted a burger. She wasn’t cheating on her diet or bitching about her weight. She was extremely practical about it. He would have loved to see her dive into a double cheeseburger, but he respected her discipline.
“Okay, what’s a good salad place?”
“Rosen’s on Nineteenth Avenue. I love that place.”
“The deli? I’ve been there. They have a corned beef that—probably isn’t low fat.” He trailed off, his stomach growling in anticipation.
They reached the deli and found a spot to park. He held the door for her as she entered the cramped, old-fashioned space and went to gaze into the glass case. There were all kinds of salads—greens, pasta salads, potato salad, even lobster salad—along with the deli meats and cheeses. She ordered a green salad and a giant kosher dill pickle. While they waited on their food, Abe spent most of his time trying not to kiss her. Then when he was diving into his thick meaty sandwich, he watched her take a huge bite of the garlicky pickle and grin at the sourness.
“How can you eat that?” He grimaced.
“It’s delicious. And it’s basically a vegetable. A deadly, sodium-laden vegetable.” She smiled wickedly. “Try it.”
“I’m not really a pickle guy.”
“I’ll take a bite of your sandwich if you try my pickle.”
He leaned forward and bit a tiny piece off the strong pickle and held out his corned beef on rye with extra cheese and dressing. She took a huge bite and grinned, shutting her eyes to revel in the spicy, salty flavor and the richness of the cheese and the slick oil-based dressing. It was like Abe was offering her every forbidden thing, and she couldn’t afford to do more than sample it. She forked up more of her salad and ate it happily.
“I could get used to this. I mostly eat alone, either in the cafeteria at Central, or takeout in my apartment.”
“What could you get used to? I’m not even talking.”
“Not being lonely.”
“Do you like being by yourself? You seem pretty self-contained.”
“I am. That doesn’t mean I enjoy it. I know how to be alone, but it’s no fun. How about you?”
“I hate it. I know that’s not the
“It doesn’t have one. Who names a bike?”
“So it’s fine for cars to have names, but bikes are unworthy? I think that’s pretty racist of you, doctor,” she teased as she pulled out of the parking lot. “What do you want to eat?”
“Pancakes?”
She scrunched up her nose. “I don’t eat carbs or dairy.”
“Like ever? So what do you eat?”
“Fish. Salad. Some low glycemic fruits and the occasional chicken breast.”
“Okay, so if you were going to indulge you’d eat....?”
“Berries.”
“Are you a chipmunk?”
“No. I’m an actress, and I have to keep fit.”
“You look pretty fit to me.”
“No offense, but you’re not a director.”
“No, I’m a doctor. I’m an expert on the human form. And your form is very nice.”
“Thanks, but you’re not in charge of casting. I’m still carrying around six extra pounds that I have to get rid of. I’m not getting a lot of work now because my age and now my weight.”
“Your age? What are you, thirty?”
“No. I’m twenty-seven,” she huffed. “Why, do I look thirty?”
“I know that. I read your medical chart, remember? I just wanted to see you get riled up.” Abe grinned at her and she stuck her tongue out at him.
“Sushi?”
“Sushi is bait. I don’t eat raw stuff. I’m a doctor. Contamination. Pathogens.”
“So you also have dietary restrictions.”
“I like to eat things that are cooked. Burgers, for example. Fries. Milkshakes.”
“Not on my diet.”
Abe couldn’t help being a little impressed. She wasn’t whining about the diet and how much she wanted a burger. She wasn’t cheating on her diet or bitching about her weight. She was extremely practical about it. He would have loved to see her dive into a double cheeseburger, but he respected her discipline.
“Okay, what’s a good salad place?”
“Rosen’s on Nineteenth Avenue. I love that place.”
“The deli? I’ve been there. They have a corned beef that—probably isn’t low fat.” He trailed off, his stomach growling in anticipation.
They reached the deli and found a spot to park. He held the door for her as she entered the cramped, old-fashioned space and went to gaze into the glass case. There were all kinds of salads—greens, pasta salads, potato salad, even lobster salad—along with the deli meats and cheeses. She ordered a green salad and a giant kosher dill pickle. While they waited on their food, Abe spent most of his time trying not to kiss her. Then when he was diving into his thick meaty sandwich, he watched her take a huge bite of the garlicky pickle and grin at the sourness.
“How can you eat that?” He grimaced.
“It’s delicious. And it’s basically a vegetable. A deadly, sodium-laden vegetable.” She smiled wickedly. “Try it.”
“I’m not really a pickle guy.”
“I’ll take a bite of your sandwich if you try my pickle.”
He leaned forward and bit a tiny piece off the strong pickle and held out his corned beef on rye with extra cheese and dressing. She took a huge bite and grinned, shutting her eyes to revel in the spicy, salty flavor and the richness of the cheese and the slick oil-based dressing. It was like Abe was offering her every forbidden thing, and she couldn’t afford to do more than sample it. She forked up more of her salad and ate it happily.
“I could get used to this. I mostly eat alone, either in the cafeteria at Central, or takeout in my apartment.”
“What could you get used to? I’m not even talking.”
“Not being lonely.”
“Do you like being by yourself? You seem pretty self-contained.”
“I am. That doesn’t mean I enjoy it. I know how to be alone, but it’s no fun. How about you?”
“I hate it. I know that’s not the
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