Robert Heinlein - I Will Fear No Evil

"Why did he do it, Jake?"

"His grandmother's will required him to change his name in order to inherit—but did not specify how he must pronounce it. Joan, in your case a formal change of name is advisable, but it might be best to wait until you are no longer my ward. But de facto your new name is already what you say it is."

"Then my name is now—'Joan Eunice Smith.'"

Salomon knocked over his glass of port. He made quite a busyness of mopping it up. Joan said, "Jake, let it be, no importance. I did not mean to shock you. But don't you see the necessity? It's a tribute to her, a public acknowledgment of my debt to her. Since I can never pay it, I want to publish it, place it on the wall for all to see, like a Chinese man's debt to his tong. Besides that, ninety-five percent of me is Eunice...and only five percent is old Johann now named ‘Joan' and even that fraction no one can see, only surgeons have seen it. Last but by no means least—Jake dear, look at me—if you ever forget that fraction and call me ‘Eunice,' it won't matter; it's my name.

And if you intentionally-call me ‘Eunice,' it will matter, for I shall be pleased and flattered. And any time it suits you to call me ‘Joan Eunice,' it will make me happy, as I will be certain you have done it intentionally—and accepted me as I am."

"Very well... Joan Eunice."

She smiled. "Thank you, Jake. I feel happier than I have felt since I first knew. I hope you do."

"Um. Yes. I think so. It's a good change—Joan Eunice."

"Did you get wine on your clothes? If so, let Cunningham see to it. Jake, is there any reason I or you to go clear out to Safe Harbor tonight? I'm sure Cunningham can find you clean socks or whatever."

"Goodness, Joan—Joan Eunice—I've been here two nights already."

"Do you think three will wear out your welcome? You can't wear it out."

"And the drive isn't that far, as I placed my house for sale with the enclave trustees months ago. I have rooms at the Gibraltar Club now. Good service, central location, none of the fiddlin' worries of a householder."

"I see your point. Hmm, must remember to resign from the Gib myself." She smiled. "They'll never let me past the ladies' lounge—now."

The lawyer said dryly, "I took the liberty of withdrawing you from membership shortly after I became your guardian—Joan Eunice."

She laughed in delight. "And me a founding member! This is delicious—souls and honks and thirds all welcome but females are second-class citizens. Jake dear, I'm going to have to get used to a lot of things."

"I suppose so—Joan Eunice."

"So I'll need you more than ever. Where have you been sleeping?"

"The Brown Room."

"Cunningham must be slipping. He should have put you in the Green Suite."

"Well... the Green Suite has been used for hospital equipment and supplies. I authorized it."

"Then you can just unauthorize it, as that is your suite. They can store that stuff somewhere else. Or remove it, as little of it will be needed from now on7'

"Hedrick had most of it removed the middle of the day."

"All, right, you stay in the Brown Room tonight; then tomorrow Cunningham can get the Green Suite in shape for you."

"Joan Eunice, what leads you to think I'm moving in here? I'm not."

"I didn't say you were. I said that the Green Suite is yours. Whether you stay a night or a year. Yours without invitation, yours to come and go without bothering to say hello or good-bye. Although I hope it will suit you to say hello to me frequently. Is Hubert, my former valet, still around?"

"Yes. He's tended me the last two nights."

"From now on he'll tend the Green Suite and take care of you whenever you honor us with your presence. Jake, you had better move some clothes here."

"Damn it— Pardon me, Joan Eunice."

"For saying ‘Damn it'? It's a strange day when my oldest friend must curb his language in my presence. Jake, I've heard you use language that would blister paint at forty yards—and at me, not merely in my presence."

"True. But I must now remember that you are a lady, Joan Eunice."

"Please yourself. I'm going to have more trouble learning to be a lady than you will have in remembering that I am supposed to be one. If you slip, ignore it—for you know that I never took a back seat to any muleskinner in other days. You were saying?"

"Well, I was saying, ‘Damn it, we must remember your reputation—Joan Eunice."

"My what? My reputation as a woman? I doubt if I have one—other than as a sideshow freak. Doesn't worry me."

"You're not in the news, Joan Eunice, since shortly after the operation. Oh, you will be again when we go into court and perhaps sooner, when someone in your household staff or Dr. Hedrick's staff spills the fact of your recovery."

"So I'll be a sideshow freak again and who cares? A nine-day wonder lasts only a couple of days now; they wear out faster than they did when I was a kid. Jake, I haven't worried about what anyone said about me for over half a century. The image our P.R. men built up was for the company, not for me personally. As for Mrs. Grundy—I think she's dead. The present generation does not care about her opinion—a change for the better in a world otherwise deteriorating. I doubt if Eunice ever heard of Mrs. Grundy." (Sure have, Boss. My fourth-grade teacher. Used to shack with the vice-principal until his wife found out. We kids giggled over it—but you would have liked her, you dirty old darling. Keep working on Jake, dear—time to back away closer.) (Who's driving this car?) (I am.)

Mr. Salomon said thoughtfully, "I think you are right about this younger generation, Joan Eunice. Only people my age and older give such matters a thought. But you know that I should not live under your roof now. And so do I."

"Jake, I am not trying to force you. Nor am I trying to compromise you—"

"Eh? Me? It's your reputation I am thinking of. With your servants, at least."

(Why, the old hypocrite. Ask him about the time he crowded me into a cloak closet with Cunningham almost breathing down our necks. Go on, I dare you. Oh, he's a one, that one—courage under fire.) "Jake, that is sweet of you but I don't give a triple damn how my servants gossip in the kitchen. But I am able to protect you from gossip, sir. I have acquired the most conventional of Victorian chaperonage-a respectable lady's maid. She'll sleep just through that door, where Hubert used to sleep. If it frets you, she can always be present when you and I are together." (Hey, what is this? Trying to get Winnie into act? She might go for it—Jake won't. Watch it, dear.) (Qui kibitzing, Eunice.)

The lawyer raised his brows. "You've hired a maid already? Surprising. Though you never were one to dillydally. Or did you shift around part of your in-house staff?"

"Some of both, Jake. I anticipated that Dr. Garcia will insist on my having a trained nurse... so I persuaded one of the nurses to stay on, in both capacities. Winnie. You've seen her, the little redhead."

"Possibly I have."

(‘Possibly' he says. All you men are hypocrites. If he hasn't patted her butt, he's thought about it.)

"I'm lucky to get her. Intelligent. Educated. Able to teach me things I must know and, being a nurse, used to caring for people even more than a maid does. I used the usual argument—money—but I was careful to respect her professional pride; she'll still be my nurse, she'll lady's-maid me as a friendly favor. I think she may be in bed. But she would get up and chaperon us if asked. Shall I send for her?"

"What? Oh, don't be silly, Joan Eunice. You're making a mountain of a molehill."

"It seemed to me that you were, Jake. I do feel defenseless as a woman... even though I was far more vulnerable as a sick old man than I am now in this strong young body. But I feel safe with you present—and not at all safe when you are away. Jake, I can't urge you to live here... but can't you see what a favor it would be to me? As well as— How many rooms do you have at the Gib?"