"...He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not. Damn."

Eva dropped the stem to the floor and put the apple back in the fruit bin. This was apple number thirty-four of the morning, and she was gonna be good goddamned if she wasn't going to find a "he loves me" in this pile. Forty-two years of "he loves me not" was all she was going to take. She looked around the grocery store for produce attendants; the coast was clear. Eva grabbed a new apple and twisted the stem.

"...he loves me not. Damn."

A few apples later, the produce staff spotted her and started to give her the eye. She figured she had about ten minutes before she got kicked out.

"Damn."

"Miss?"

Maybe less than ten minutes.

Eva's scream reverberated off of the produce bins. She shook her mane of curly red hair. She waved her arms at the oranges for effect. "You people, with your rules!"

The manager--his name tag said Manu--looked like a nice enough man. Eastern Indian, maybe a little older than her. On the outside he was a tall man, unusually tall for an Indian, but Eva thought that maybe inside he was a tiny man. Suddenly she felt unfamiliar pangs of guilt for yelling. The man actually kept a handkerchief in his pocket. He actually mopped his brow with it.

Eva looked down at the stems on the floor. "I can pay for the apples I, uh, defaced."

"Ma'am." He called her ma'am, no accent. "We're terribly sorry to have offended you. It is merely a question of hygiene."

Eva's cheeks matched her hair. She puffed out her chest, which was already quite large. "Now you're calling me unhygienic?" She geared up for more yelling.

Truth be told, she wasn't really angry. Going into a furious rage just gave her an outlet; it was almost a form of meditation for her. It was her version of going for a long jog or fingering rosary beads.

"Ma'am, Miss, Uh, maybe if we could continue this conversation in my office?"

He punctuated this with a deep bow, sweeping out his hand with a flourish. Normally she would have continued her tirade. Normally she would have brought in a fresh batch of "Oh no you don't!" and "I will not be silenced!" But there was something about the way he held his hand, palm up, pointing towards the back of the store. She sucked in a breath and said, "All right."

Manu smiled, a little nervously, and waited for her to walk ahead of him.

Eva turned to the apple bin and plucked out two apples before walking toward the back. She listened for his protest, but when she looked behind her she saw that he had taken two apples as well, one in each hand. He smiled again.

His "office" was a small section of an enormous back room, with a desk facing the wall and overstuffed shelves. Masking tape on the floor delineated the office space. Boxes of produce were stacked up to the edges of the tape. Eva wondered why he hadn't taped off a bigger office.

Manu pulled a wooden chair over for her and sat at his desk. He placed his two apples on the blotter. Eva settled into her chair. She hiked up her skirt and rested an apple against each of her bare knees.

"So, Missus...?"

"Eva."

"Eva then, how can I make your life more wonderful?" He had a pleasant smile.

She thought about this. A little thread of sadness ran through her chest. "You can't."

Manu's smile withered a little. He wiped his brow again. "So. Are our apples not up to your standards?"

"No. Your apples are fine."

The smile was getting smaller all the time. "So what exactly is the problem?"

"Love."

"Love is the problem."

"Yes."

Manu placed his fingers on his chin. "Well, you know, I understand it's hard in this world of ours--"

"I'm not talking generally. I have a very specific problem; I'm cursed."

"Cursed."

"Yes."

Manu's handkerchief looked quite damp. He spread it out on his blotter, next to the two apples.

Eva continued. "It was an old gypsy woman--"

"Romany."

"What?"

"Romany is the preferred term. Gypsy is derogatory."

"Where was I?"

"Cursed."

"Right. I cussed up an old Gy- Romany woman, and now until I find an apple stem that twists off on ‘he loves me' I can never find love."
Manu put his hands up to his temples and began to rub them. He let out a breath.

"Here, I'll show you." She handed him one of her apples. She held the other in front of his face. With her other hand she twisted the stem of the apple.

"He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not. See?"

She took the other apple from him.

"He loves me, he loves me not. See? Every time."

Manu knitted his brows. He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "That's not how it works, you know."

"What do you mean?"

"You're supposed to twist on each letter of the alphabet. It breaks off on the first letter of your future love's name." He picked up the two apples from his desk. "Here, I'll show you, take one of these."

He held his in front of his chest and twisted the stem. "A, B, C, D, E. There, you see?"

Eva looked at her apple, smelled it. It was tart. Fuji, the best kind. She grasped the stem and began twisting. "A, B, C, D, E, F--" Funny, most stems didn't make it past six turns. "G, H, I, J, K--" This stem was indestructible. "L, M." It broke.

Eva smiled. She looked up at Manu and saw him in a new light. Not a tiny man, a strong man, a kind man, a clever man. Manu looked at the stem in her hand, looked at the sparkle in her eye, and reached for his handkerchief.