Read Online Shakespeare's Trollop by Charlaine Harris - Free Book Online Page A

look like a bride,” I said, and the knot inside me eased.
    â€œI wish Jack were here,” Carrie said politely, though she hadn’t really had much of a chance to know him. “Claude and I would have enjoyed him being with us.”
    â€œHe’s still in California,” I told her. “I don’t know when he’ll be back.”
    â€œI hope you two…” but Carrie didn’t finish that thought, and I was grateful.
    The courthouse, which occupies a whole block downtown, is an old one, but recently renovated. Claude was waiting on the wheelchair ramp.
    â€œHe’s wearing a suit,” I said, amazed almost beyond speech. I’d never seen Claude in anything but his uniform or blue jeans.
    â€œDoesn’t he look handsome?” Carrie’s cheeks, normally on the sallow end of the spectrum, took on a becoming rose tint. In fact, she looked more twenty-five than thirty-two.
    â€œYes,” I said gently. “He looks wonderful.”
    Claude’s brother, Charles, was with him, looking more uncomfortable than Claude did. Charles was more at home in overalls and a welder’s cap than a suit. Shy and solitary by nature, Charles managed to make himself almost invisible even in this small town. I thought I could count on my fingers the number of times I’d seen Charles in the years I’d lived in Shakespeare.
    He’d really made an effort today.
    When Claude saw Carrie coming up the sidewalk, his face changed. I watched the hardness seep out of it, replaced by something more. He took her hand, and brought his other hand from behind him to present her with a bouquet.
    â€œOh, Claude,” she said, overcome with pleasure. “You thought of this.”
    Good. Much better than my corsage. Now Carrie looked truly bridelike.
    â€œClaude, Charles,” I said, by way of greeting.
    â€œLily, thanks for coming. Let’s go do it.”
    If Claude had been any more nervous he would’ve made a hole in the sidewalk.
    I spied Judge Hitchcock peering out of the door.
    â€œJudge is waiting,” I said, and Claude and Carrie looked at each other, heaved a simultaneous sigh, and started toward the courthouse door. Charles and I were right behind.
    After the brief ceremony, Claude and Carrie had eyes only for each other, though Carrie hugged Charles and me, and Claude shook our hands. He offered to buy us lunch, but with one voice we turned him down, Charles wanted to crawl back in his cave, wherever it was, and I was not in a festive mood after my morning’s work, though I was making an effort to be cheerful for my friends’ sakes.
    Charles and I were glad to part, and as Carrie and her new husband drove away to their weekend prehoney-moon, I went back to my house, despising myself for my nasty mood, which I hoped I’d hidden well enough. Changing back into my working clothes, hanging my good outfit in the closet, and grabbing a piece of fruit for lunch, I was restless from the dark feeling inside me. As always, it translated into a need for action. It would have been a good day for me to be mugged, because I would have enjoyed hurting someone.
    While I cleaned the tiny house of the very old Mrs. Jepperson, while the round black woman who “sat with” Mrs. Jepperson every day did her best to catch me stealing something, I carried that core of anger within me, burning and painful.
    It took me an hour to identify my anger as loneliness. It had been a long time since I’d felt lonely; I’m a person who enjoys being alone, and the past few years had afforded me plenty of that. For a long time, I hadn’t made friends; I hadn’t taken lovers. But this year had seen so many changes in me, and unfortunately, side by side with the willingness to have friends traveled the capacity for loneliness. I sighed as I put Mrs. Jepperson’s stained sheets in the washer to soak in bleach.
    I was just plain old feeling sorry for myself. Even