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taken by a sympathetic-looking waiter.
    Everyone proceeded to talk at once.

    22 Josh Lanyon
    “Adrien writes murder mysteries as well as owning a bookstore,” Lisa was explaining to Dauten. I wondered if she’d waited till five minutes before dinner to break the news that she had a grown son. “They’re terribly clever and terribly malicious, which is so surprising, because he was always the most gentle little boy.”
    “Her accent is too adorable,” Lauren said of my English-born mum, mercifully breaking my concentration. “I just love to hear her talk.”
    “Oh, me too,” I said. “Especially right now.”
    On my right, the kid, Emma, giggled. I grinned at her.
    Lauren and the middle girl (what the hell was her name?) were tall, willowy blondes, good-looking in an All-American, Ralph Lauren advert way. The kid was thin and lanky with glossy black hair and rosy cheeks. She had inherited the family blue eyes, which were striking with her dark hair. She looked a lot like Lisa. She could have passed for her daughter -- or my sister.
    “We adore Lisa,” the middle one (Nancy? Natasha?) reassured me. “She’s so good for Daddy. He worships her.”
    I saw Dauten patting Lisa’s hand with his giant paw as she chattered away. He wore a gold signet on his pinky finger. The backs of his hands were covered in black hair. I reached gratefully for the double Chivas Regal the waiter appeared with and knocked half of it back in one gulp.
    “Was the traffic awful?” Lauren asked sympathetically.
    “We’ll all have to come to your bookstore,” the Middle One told me. “I love mysteries!
    That’s all I read. We’ll tell everybody. We’ll get all our friends to go. You know, I always wanted to work in a bookstore.”
    The kid, Emma, who had been eyeing me steadily, said all at once, “You look like someone. I know who. You look like the actor in that movie. Red River.”
    “John Wayne?”
    She giggled. Yeah, she was a cutie.
    The Middle One, Natalie -- Natalie -- said proudly, “Emma likes black-and-white movies,” as though the small fry had just received her Mensa card in the mail.
    “What movies do you like?” I asked Emma.
    I never heard her response, because Lauren leaned across the table, whispering like the Girl from U.N.C.L.E. on duty, “So, what do you think about this plan for a New Year’s Eve wedding, Adrien?”
    “Uh…”
    “It doesn’t give us nearly enough time,” Natalie put in, equally covert ops. “We’ve got to stall them.”

    The Hell You Say

    23
    “We’ve still got to get ready for Christmas,” Lauren told me. “Oh, by the way, you’re having Christmas with us this year, did Lisa tell you?”
    “I’m going to be a junior bridesmaid,” Emma piped next to me.
    “You’re going to give the bride away,” Natalie told me.
    I signaled for another drink.

    * * * * *
We said our good-byes in the restaurant parking lot, Lisa and the other girls piling into Dauten’s Jag as the rain began to patter down. The Jag sped past, a blur of waving hands and smiling faces. I pulled off my tie, tossed it on the passenger seat.
    The misty rain got heavier as I turned onto the 110 freeway. I popped a CD in the new player: Patty Griffin’s 1000 Kisses. The melancholy opening notes filled the silent car in time with the swish of the windshield wipers.
    Of course, the perfect finishing touch would have been getting pulled over for a DUI, so I was very careful driving home. Careful and depressed. I think it was hearing all the details of the forthcoming Christmas extravaganza that sent my emotions into a tailspin.
    I like Christmas. Not as much as I liked it when I was a kid, but I do enjoy it. Yeah, I know it’s become cheapened and tawdry and commercialized, but that doesn’t change the reason for the season. And, of course, it’s absolutely the best time of year for Cloak and Dagger Books.
    The problem I have with Christmas is the problem most single people have with Christmas, which is