Mrs. Zemlinsky sipped her dirty martini. "I do wish Natasha would sleep around more. What's she saving it for? Marriage?"
The Zemlinskys burst out laughing.
"You're killing me!" guffawed Mr. Zemlinsky, slapping his deck chair. "M-m-m-marriage!"
"Ooh, I'm saving it!" said Mrs. Zemlinsky in a high voice, eliciting peals of laughter from Mr. Zemlinsky.
A moment passed.
Mr. Zemlinsky turned serious. "Maybe you should talk to her about...you know".
Mrs. Zemlinsky screwed up her face. "Me? God, no. That's why we pay Dr. Adler".
Mr. Zemlinsky's cell phone rang -- Singapore calling. "I have to take this", he said.
Meanwhile, Natasha opened her copy of I Ching for Beginners and read:
One takes fifty yarrow stalks, of which only forty-nine are used. These forty-nine are first divided into two heaps (at random), then a stalk from the right-hand heap is inserted between the ring finger and the little finger of the left hand. The left heap is counted through by fours, and the remainder (four or less) is inserted between the ring finger and the middle finger. The same thing is done with the right heap, and the remainder inserted between the forefinger and the middle finger. This constitutes one change.
Now one is holding in one's hand either five or nine stalks in all. The two remaining heaps are put together, and the same process is repeated twice. These second and third times, one obtains either four or eight stalks. The five stalks of the first counting and the four of each of the succeeding countings are regarded as a unit having the numerical value three; the nine stalks of the first counting and the eight of the succeeding countings have the numerical value two.
When three successive changes produce the sum 3+3+3=9, this makes the old yang, i.e., a firm line that moves. The sum 2+2+2=6 makes old yin, a yielding line that moves. Seven is the young yang, and eight the young yin; they are not taken into account as individual lines.
Wha-a-a? thought Natasha. Abandoning the I Ching, she pondered: pose for Henry, yes or no?
For Molly Bloom, posing in the nude is nothing exceptional. Molly is so completely innocent and ephemeral that it seems perfectly natural for her to shed her clothing at a moment's notice. She simply doesn't think twice about it.
Natasha, on the other hand, is quite shy about exposing herself to others. She feels there is something dark, shameful and dirty about her body that she must hide from the gaze of others.
And then there is the secret of her dark and frenzied past she feels must remain hidden.
But then, on the other hand, there is Adonis, Rising. Natasha's heart goes pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat.
Thursday is Roderick's day off from the boathouse. He stopped by to see Megan, who was delighted to see him, and invited him inside.
Megan wore a green t-shirt -- Roderick secretly wished it could get wet -- and greenish shorts. "Come on, I want you to meet my Dad". She led Roderick back through the house to a large darkly paneled room with windows facing the back yard. There was a great fireplace at one end of the room, and a gun rack over the mantel. Mr. Cupcake stood up and greeted Roderick.
"Daddy, this is Roderick. Roderick, this is my Dad".
Mr. Cupcake stood and greeted Roderick warmly. "Greetings, son. So you're the Roderick my little Megan can't stop talking about! Welcome to our home."
Roderick shook hands with Mr. Cupcake. "Pleased to meet you, sir".
Mr. Cupcake didn't let go of Roderick's hand. "You're a gentleman?"
"Um.."
"I mean with my little daughter. You're a gentleman, right?"
Megan rolled her eyes and made a little loop-de-loop gesture with her finger.
"Um.."
Mr. Cupcake held Roderick's hand tighter and pressed his point. "My daughter's virtue is priceless", he said.
Megan coughed a little and covered her mouth with her hand.
"Um.."
"In Slovenia", continued Mr. Cupcake, "we shoot young men who take a daughter's virtue".
"Oh, Daddy", exclaimed Megan, "you're so old country!".
"Okay, okay", said Mr. Cupcake, releasing Roderick's hand and returning to his seat. "Just so we understand each other".
Megan hugged her father. "Don't worry about my virtue, Daddy", she said. "Roderick is a perfect gentleman. We're going up to my room to play a game".
"Okay", said Mr. Cupcake. "Have fun." And with that, he opened his newspaper.
Megan took Roderick's hand and led him up to her room, a large room on the third floor. The room was furnished in an eclectic mix of styles, mostly Arts and Crafts, but with a few pieces that appeared to be Japanese, possibly from the Edo period. There was a large shaggy rug square in the middle of the room, which Roderick thought looked kind of like bearskin. He wondered who shot the bear.
"What game shall we play?" wondered Roderick. He was hoping Megan would not say Monopoly. Roderick isn't really that fond of Monopoly. He prefers chess, or checkers or card games, or games like Clue that take some thinking but not too much.
"Well", said Megan, snuggling up to Roderick, "there's a game I've wanted to play with you since we first met.."
