Shakespeares Christmas Page 0,65

"See you then, Lily."

"OK. Thanks for checking the house."

"No problem."

We said good-bye and hung up, both with a few things to think about.

I could tell that Carrie's relationship with Chief of Police Claude Friedrich was flourishing. I hoped it would last. I'd liked both of them for months before they'd ever looked at each other.

I found myself wondering how Bobo was feeling about the death of his grandfather. I was sure he felt some grief, but it must be at least a little mixed with relief. Now Bobo and his parents would have some peace, some time to recoup. It was almost possible they would rehire me.

I dragged myself back to the here and now. It was nearly time for me to go to my baby-sitting stint. I would be in the O'Sheas' house; I could search it as I had the Kingery house and the Osborn house. I was staring at myself in the mirror in the bathroom, refluffing my hair and powdering my face, when I finally registered how miserable I looked.

Couldn't be helped.

In my room, I pulled on my Christmas sweatsuit, the one I'd worn in the parade. I guess I thought the bright color might make me seem more kid-friendly. I ate a bowl of leftover fruit salad, all that I could find in the refrigerator since everyone else in the house was going to the supper.

Dill's friend Berry Duff rang the doorbell while I was washing up, and I let him in. He smiled down at me.

"You look cheerful," he remarked.

"I'm going to baby-sit."

His face fell. "Oh, I was looking forward to talking to you at the dinner."

"Last-minute emergency. The baby-sitter came down with the flu and they couldn't find another one."

"I hope it goes smoothly," Berry said, rather doubtfully, I thought. "I have kids of my own, and a handful at a time is kind of a rough evening."

"How old are yours?" I asked politely.

"I got one who's nine, one who's in the tenth grade... let's see... Daniel's fifteen now. They're both good kids. I don't get to see them often enough."

I remembered that his wife had custody of the children. "Do they live close enough for you to see them regularly?" I asked.

"Every other weekend," he answered. He looked sad and angry. "That's just not as good, nowhere near as good, as watching them grow up every day." He folded himself into one of the kitchen chairs, and I returned to the sink to finish drying the dishes.

"But you know where they are," I said, surprising even myself. "You know that they're safe. You can pick up the phone and call them."

Berry stared at me in understandable surprise. "That's true," he said slowly, feeling his way. "I'm sure the situation could be worse. You're saying, if my wife ran off with them, went underground, like some spouses do to keep the other parent away from the kids ? That would be horrible. I guess I'd just go crazy." Berry mulled it over for a minute. "I'd do anything to get them back, if that happened," he concluded. He looked up at me. "My God, girl, how did we get on this depressing topic? This is supposed to be a happy household! Wedding tomorrow!"

"Yes," I said. "Wedding tomorrow." I had to be resolute. This was not a problem I could solve by hitting or kicking. I puzzled Berry further by patting his shoulder, before I pulled on my coat and called good-bye to my parents.

I thought there was something I'd forgotten to tell Jack today, something small but important. But I couldn't make it float to the surface of my mind.

The O'Sheas had plenty of room in the Presbyterian manse, since the preacher for whom the home had been built had been the father of five. Of course, that had been in 1938. Now the manse was an underinsulated money pit in need of complete rewiring, Lou told me within the first five minutes after my arrival. I could see that she had some legitimate gripes, because the long, narrow shape of the living area made it hard to group furniture, just for starters. And though there was a fireplace, and it was decorated for the season, the chimney needed so much repair that it wasn't functional.

The preacher's wife was encased in a sage green suit and black suede pumps. Her dark hair was carefully turned under all the way around in a smooth pageboy, and her ski-jump nose had been minimized by some