Enigma Variations

by André Aciman

“Why would it be too funny?” “Why? I could think of a hundred reasons.” “Name one.” “You mean you couldn’t tell?” I look at her. And she looks at me. I am feeling totally stumped, but finally I see what I was just starting to guess, or had already guessed except that I am still reluctant to let on that I have. Perhaps there’s a side of me that doesn’t want all my doubts about the two of them so hastily dispelled, though there’s yet another part that doesn’t want her to see I’ve immediately intuited what she’s barely had time to imply. “Oh, that,” I say, downplaying her disclosure by feigning indifferent surprise. “Oh, that!” she almost mimics. “Seriously?” A moment of silence. “For a while I thought you two had something going on.” “Puh-lease! So this is why you were Mister Grumpy all evening?” “Was I Mister Grumpy?” “Big-time.” She imitates my face when I’m pouting. We both laugh. “Why do you think he asked if we were in love?” Maud asks. “Why? Because he had too much to drink? Because he had designs on you?” “No, dear. On you.” I try to look baffled. But I know she can tell.