Shakespeares Christmas Page 0,3

twenty-pound dumbbells had made my arms tremble. I'd also been naive beyond belief. I had believed that all women were sisters under the skin, and that underneath all the crap, men were basically decent and honest.

I made an involuntary sound of disgust at the memory, and the white-haired lady sitting on the bench a yard away said, "Yes, it is a little overwhelming after a month and more, isn't it?"

I turned to look at her. Short and stout, she had chosen to wear a Christmas sweatshirt with reindeer on it and green slacks. Her shoes could have been advertised as "comfort-plus walkers." She smiled at me. She was alone like I was, and she had more to say.

"They start the selling season so early, and the stores put up the decorations almost before they clear the Halloween stuff away! Takes you right out of the mood, doesn't it!"

"Yes," I agreed. I swung back to glance in the window, seeing my reflection ... checking. Yes, I was Lily, the newer version, short blond hair, muscles like hard elastic bands, wary and alert. Strangers generally tended to address their remarks to someone else.

"It's a shame about Christmas," I told the old woman and walked away.

I pulled the list out of my purse. It would never be shorter unless I could mark something off by making a purchase. My mother had very carefully written down all the social events included in my sister's prewedding buildup and starred all the ones I was absolutely required to attend. She had included notes on what I should wear, in case I'd forgotten what was appropriate for Bartley society.

Unspoken in the letter, though I could read the words in invisible ink, was the plea that I honor my sister by wearing suitable clothes and making an effort to be "social."

I was a grown woman, thirty-one. I was not childish enough, or crazy enough, to cause Varena and my parents distress by inappropriate clothing and behavior.

But as I went into the best department store in the mall, as I stared over the racks and racks of clothing, I found myself completely at a loss. There were too many choices for a woman who'd simplified her life down to the bone. A saleswoman asked if she could help me, and I shook my head.

This paralysis was humiliating. I prodded my brain. I could do this. I should get...

"Lily," said a warm, deep voice.

I followed it up, and up, to the face of my friend Bobo Winthrop. Bobo's face had lost the element of boy that had made it sweet. He was a nineteen-year-old man.

Without a thought, I put my arms around him. The last time I'd seen Bobo, he'd been involved in a family tragedy that had torn the Winthrop clan in two. He'd transferred to a college out of state, somewhere in Florida. He looked as if he'd made the most of it. He was tan, had apparently lost a little weight.

He hugged me back even more eagerly. Then as I leaned back to look at him again, he kissed me, but he was wise enough to break it off before it became an issue.

"Are you out of school for the holidays?" I asked.

"Yes, and after that I'll start back here at U of A." The University of Arkansas had a large campus at Montrose, though some of the Shakespeare kids preferred the biggest establishment in Fayetteville, or the Little Rock branch.

We looked at each other, in silent agreement not to discuss the reasons Bobo had left the state for a while.

"What are you doing today, Lily? Not at work?"

"No," I answered shortly, hoping he wouldn't ask me to spell out the fact that his mother no longer employed me, and as a result, I'd lost a couple of other clients.

He gave me a look that I could only characterize as assessing. "And you're here shopping?"

"My sister's getting married. I have to go home for the wedding and the prewedding parties."

"So, you're here to get something to wear." Bobo eyed me a minute more. "And you don't like to shop."

"Right," I said disconsolately.

"Got to go to a shower?"

"I have a list," I told him, aware of how bleak my voice sounded.

"Let's see."

I handed him the sheet of stationery.

"A shower... two showers. A dinner. Then the rehearsal dinner. The wedding. You'll be a bridesmaid?"

I nodded.

"So she's got your dress for that?"

I nodded again.

"So, what do you need?"

"I have a nice black suit," I said.

Bobo looked expectantly at me.

"That's it."

"Oh,