Fictionlet
“You know, a lot of my friends have eligible kids,” said Isadora.
“Gawd, mom,” said Brigid, “not this again. I go on plenty of dates.”
“Not for you!” Isadora replied. “For Greg! That poor boy strikes me as someone who badly needs a woman’s touch.”
Brigid shuddered slightly at the mental image that conjured up, and said, “Honestly, mom, I’m not sure if he’s interested in women. The last woman I know of who had any interest in Greg ended up scaring the wits out of him with her breasts.”
“Eh?”
“Long story.”
“Are you telling me he … plays for the other team?”
Brigid shrugged. “I don’t know, I don’t think I’d go as far as to say that. But I suppose he might. It’s hard to tell! He doesn’t actually seem to express interest in either sex, except in a vague ‘courtly love’ kind of way.”
Isadora pursed her lips. “But his book has a man and a woman, right?”
“Yes,” said Brigid. “There is that.”
“Well tell you what, here’s your assignment. Next time you go out to a public place with Greg — party, shopping mall, whatever — keep your eye on him. Watch who he watches. If he comes over all misty at somebody, you’ll know!”
Brigid shook her head. “C’mon, mom, you think I’m an amateur? I tried that already!”
“And…?”
“He spent twenty minutes staring at a potted plant and scribbling down a description of the ladybug he found on it.”
-The Gneech
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