Garden of Eden

Claire had mentioned the workshop the way Claire mentioned most things — casually, at the end of a session, already moving on before Eden had fully processed the suggestion.

“There is a continuing education workshop next Thursday,” Claire had said, barefoot as always, already reorganizing the beanbag chairs. “Understanding Female Sexual Response. You should go. The credits alone are worth it.”

Eden had written it down. That was what Eden did. She wrote things down, showed up, and was present and useful. That was the rhythm of her life and she had never had a particular reason to examine it.

She arrived twelve minutes early, which was also what Eden did, and took a seat near the front. The room was the specific kind of neutral that conference rooms always were — chairs arranged in rows, a projector, a table with coffee that had been sitting too long. She poured a cup anyway and opened her notebook to a fresh page.

She did not save the seat next to her.

She was not expecting anyone.

* * *

The woman sat down four minutes before the workshop started without asking if the seat was taken, which Eden noticed, and without apologizing for the disruption, which Eden also noticed. She had on a rather tight white midriff tank top with no bra, a sleeve tattoo, and the specific quality of stillness that Eden recognized professionally — someone completely comfortable in their own body, taking up exactly the space they were entitled to and not one inch more or less.

She smelled faintly of something warm. Something like Earl Grey tea with a shot of brandy, almost.

“Hello,” the woman said. Not a question. Not particularly an introduction. Just an acknowledgment that another person was present, delivered in a low, unhurried register that made Eden straighten slightly without meaning to.

“Hi,” Eden said.

The presenter started. Eden uncapped her pen.

For approximately eleven minutes, everything was fine.

* * *

“Now,” the presenter said, with the specific confidence of someone who had given this particular presentation many times, “when we talk about achieving female climax, the key thing to understand is that the experience is largely psychological. The physical component is secondary to—”

The woman next to Eden exhaled. It was not quite a sigh. It was the specific sound of someone exercising restraint.

Eden glanced over.

The woman had her pen in her hand. She was looking at the presenter with an expression that was perfectly polite and completely unconvinced.

She lasted approximately thirty more seconds.

“No no,” the woman said. Not loudly. Just — clearly. The low gravelly voice carrying exactly as far as it needed to carry, which turned out to be the entire room. “I am sorry, but she is explaining this....how do you say, incorrectly, hmm? The physical component is not secondary. It is very much primary. What she is describing is a symptom of inadequate physical technique being compensated for by psychological effort. These are not the same thing, yes?”

The presenter stopped.

The room stopped.

Eden looked at her notebook. Then at the presenter. Then, slowly, at the woman next to her.

The woman was already looking at her. Calm. Unhurried. A small smile that was not performing anything.

“She is not wrong though,” the woman said, quieter now, specifically to Eden. “The psychological component is important. It is just not the whole story, hmm?”

Eden looked at her for a moment.

“....you’re not wrong,” Eden said.

“I know,” the woman said.

She uncapped her own pen and turned back to the presenter, apparently satisfied that the record had been corrected and they could all move forward now.

“I am Elke,” she said, without looking away from the presenter. “Elke Wagner.”

“Eden,” Eden said. “Eden Marsh.”

“Yes,” Elke said, as if this confirmed something. “I thought so.”

* * *

The presenter continued for another ten minutes until again, she said something that Elke did not particularly agree with.

“Now,” the presenter said. “You want her to be flat on her back, knees up—”

“No no,” Elke said. “She is explaining it wrong again. What you would want to do is push the legs back, possibly as far as they would go, hmm? Make the tips of the toes touch the headboard of the bed, if possible. That way, the Grafenberg....how do you say, ‘shifts’ almost to the front, that way you can easily hit it with a finger, toy, whatever you would like. Very very pleasurable. Very pleasurable indeed, yes?”

There were some audible gasps in the room. Some people immediately started writing down notes and typing on their tablets.

Eden looked at Elke with a grin on her face.

“I’m sorry,” the presenter said. “Would YOU like to teach this workshop Ms—”

“Wagner,” Elke said. “I am Elke Wagner. And it has already started, yes? That would be….how do you say, ‘disruptive’ to the process that has already begun, hmm? But you will give me your email address and I can send my resume to you. It is very comprehensive. Very very comprehensive indeed, yes? Trust me, you will love it.”

There were audible laughs and snickers in the room.

But Eden recognized that Elke was being deadly serious.

* * *

During the lunch break, Eden was standing near the refreshments table when Elke walked over.

“So,” Eden said. “You are quite the deep well of knowledge. I think the presenter was ready to quit mid-presentation.”

“She does not have to ‘quit’, Eden Marsh,” Elke said. “She just has to….how do you say, ‘communicate’ the information correctly, hmm? When you have been doing this for as long as I have been doing it, you will learn and pick up things. Very useful things. Very specific things, yes?”

Elke then took a sip of the coffee that was available.

“Mm,” Elke said. “This coffee, it is….how do you say, ‘basic’ yes? It tastes mostly of water and half-hearted effort. It is….half of the ass, hmm? It does not contain the entire extent of the ass. This is not sufficient enough to keep me awake during this presentation. I will need something that contains the full extent of the ass.”

Eden chuckled softly.

“I know a place,” Eden said. “The coffee is very ‘whole assed’. The pastry is also quite lovely too.”

“Well I believe you will be taking me to this place you speak of then, hmm?” Elke said.

“It would be my pleasure,” Elke said.