Three evenings ago, Sarah and Randy Vermillion, who lived down the block, had a pool party for the neighborhood. Everyone bought a dish to share. Grace and Fletcher Moke took over a spinach salad. Now Sarah was on the phone. “You forgot to take home your wooden salad servers.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Grace said. “Usually we have a salad every night, but with Fletch being out of town this week...”

“Understand,” Sarah said. “Anyway we’ve washed everything. I can drop them over if you like. In case you’re having a salad tonight or anything.”

“I hadn’t planned on it,” Grace said. “Probably I’d just have yogurt. Maybe sardines on toast. Fletch hates sardines. I’m not sure I like them that much either, but we got a carton of them. A dozen tins. From my dad. He loves sardines. So if I eat them I consider myself doing a good deed, and I can send him a proper thank you note. Make his day. Although I’d have to worry that he’d send more.”

“I don’t know if I’ve ever had a sardine,” Sarah said.

“Well, if you come over, I can give you a tin.”

Sarah showed up just after five with the fork and spoon. Handing them to Grace, she said they’d really enjoyed the salad. “Randy especially liked the dressing.”

“I’m glad,” Grace said. “It’s our standard dressing. Nothing much to it, really.”

“Tell that to Randy,” Sarah said. “It’s like he was head-over-heels about it. In fact ... no, maybe I’d better not say.”

“Oh, go ahead, say,” Grace said.

Sarah bit her lip. “It’s kind of, um...”

“Spit it out.”

“Okay.” Sarah took a deep breath. “Randy says the dressing tastes a little like me.”

“Like you?” Grace asked.

Sarah blushed. “Like my ... my pussy juice.”

The two women looked at each other.

“He says it has this slight sweet, slightly citrus flavor, with a hint of tang.”

“And that’s the way you taste?” Grace asked.

Sarah gave a short, embarrassed laugh. “Well, I don’t know. I’ve never actually tasted myself.”

“Me neither,” Grace admitted. “I mean I haven’t tasted you, of course. Nor have I tasted myself.” Quickly she went on: “The dressing is really rather simple. Some olive oil. Extra virgin. Some balsamic vinegar. And some maple syrup. We just kind of ad hoc the proportions.”

“Ad hoc, I like that,” Sarah said.

“Probably the citrus comes from the clementines. We love to add fruits. Bits of apple. Blueberries. Pears if we have them. And walnuts.”

“Really yummy,” Sarah said. “I’m going to try that for our next salad.”

“But I wouldn’t think it would taste like sex,” Grace put in. “I’ll get those sardines for you.”