Shakespeares Christmas Page 0,59

divorce and the baby she'd lost to crib death. We didn't need to talk about my past; it was too well known. But Mary asked me some questions about Shakespeare, about my daily life, and to my pleasure it was easy to answer.

She, too, asked if I was seeing someone special.

"Yes," I said, trying not to stare down at my hands. "A man from Little Rock. Jack Leeds."

"Oh, is he the ponytail guy who showed up at the wedding rehearsal?"

"Yeah," I said, not even trying to look up this time. "How'd you know?" Why was I even asking, knowing the Bartley grapevine as I did?

"Lou O'Shea was in yesterday. She and Jess have a bed on layaway for Krista for Christmas."

"They seem like a nice couple," I said.

"Yeah, they are," Mary Maude agreed, dipping a french fry in a puddle of ketchup. She'd made a trail of paper napkins to keep her winter white in a pristine state. "They sure are having a hard time with that Krista since they had Luke."

"That's what I hear. You reckon she feels unloved now that the little boy's here?"

"I suppose, though they were real open with her about her being adopted and telling her they loved her enough to pick her out. But I guess maybe she feels like Luke is really theirs, and she isn't."

I said I hadn't realized that the O'Sheas were so open about Krista being adopted.

"Lou more than Jess," Mary Maude commented. "Lou has always been more out-front than her husband, but I guess he's had more practice at keeping secrets, him being a minister and all."

Ministers do have to keep a lot of secrets. I hadn't thought of that before. I got up to get some more tea - and another napkin for Mary Maude.

"Lou tells me the man you're seeing is quite a looker," Mary Maude said slyly, bringing the conversation back to the most interesting topic.

It had never occurred to me someone as conventional as Lou O'Shea would find him so. "Yes."

"Is he sweet to you?" Mary Maude sounded wistful.

This was everyone's day to want to know about Jack. First Anna, now Mary Maude. Weddings must bring it out in women. "Sweet," I said, trying the word on Jack to see how it fit. "No. He's not sweet."

Surprise hiked up Mary Maude's eyebrows. "Not sweet! Well, then! Is he rich?"

"No," I answered without hesitation.

"Then why are you seeing him?" Suddenly her cheeks got pinker, and she looked simultaneously delighted and embarrassed. "Is he... ?"

"Yes," I told her, trying not to look as self-conscious as I felt.

"Oh, girl," said Mary Maude, shaking her head and giggling-

"Emory is single now," I observed, trying to steer the conversation away from me and into a channel that might lead to some knowledge.

She didn't waste time looking shocked. "Never in a million years," Mary Maude told me as she consumed her last french fry.

"Why are you so sure about that?"

"Aside from the fact that now it would mean taking on a newborn baby and an eight-year-old girl, there's the man himself. I never met anyone as hard to read as Emory. He's polite as the day is long, he never uses bad language, he's ... yes, he is ... sweet. Old ladies just love him. But Emory's not a simple man, and he's not my idea of red-blooded."

"Oh?"

"Not that I think he's gay," Mary Maude protested hastily. "It's just that, for example, we were outside the store watching the Harvest Festival parade, back in September, and all the beauty queens were coming by riding on the top of the convertibles, like we did?"

I'd completely forgotten that. Maybe that was why riding in the Shakespeare parade had plowed up my feelings so deeply?

"And Emory just wasn't interested. You know? You can tell when a man is appreciating women. And he wasn't. He enjoyed the floats and the bands. He loved the little girls, you know, Little Miss Pumpkin Patch, that kind of thing, and he told me he'd even thought of entering Eve, but his wife didn't like the idea. But those big gals in their sequin dresses and push-up bras didn't do a thing for Emory. No, I'm going to have to look farther than the furniture store to find someone to date."

I made an indeterminate noise.

"Now, we were talking earlier about Lou and Jess O'Shea. They were watching that parade catty-corner to where I was standing, and believe me, honey! That Jess can enjoy grown-up women!"

"But he doesn't... ?"

"Oh, Lord,