Move Over, Miss Woodhouse

 

 

You can’t find a cup of pumpkin spice tea or anything else anywhere, although there are plenty of eggnog and candy cane lattes.  I don’t have to mentally block out the Christmas decorations at the mall.  I may even watch a Christmas movie on the Hallmark channel, and I’ll address the Christmas cards while I do.

Emily came to her first Girls’ Night In at Karen’s.  She brought a bottle of wine and cookies shaped like turkeys and cornucopias.

“How was Thanksgiving?”

“Well, the food was delicious and my nieces and nephews were fun.  But  . . . well, you know.”

“Did your parents give you a hard time?”  Emily is gay.

“Oh, they’re cool with my ‘Lifestyle,’ as my mother says.  My father keeps asking me when I’m going to meet a nice girl, and my mother says, ‘Woman, Bruce.  Emily needs to meet a nice woman!  You make her sound like a damn pedophile.’  She really tries, bless her heart.   

“This year she took me aside for a Real Serious Talk.  She said, ‘Honey are you sure you’re gay?  Maybe it’s the Reverse Katharine Hepburn Syndrome.’”

“What’s that?” Karen asked.

“That’s what I said.  She said, ‘You know how everyone knew Katharine Hepburn was a Lesbian except Katharine Hepburn?  Maybe everyone knows you’re straight but you.  I don’t care one way or the other.  I just want you to be happy.’”

“Where did she hear about that?”

“She read this short story about a straight woman who tries to help her Lesbian friend find somebody.  And they end up together.  It’s called ‘Reversing Katharine Hepburn.’  It’s pretty funny.”

We must have looked concerned because she said, “But don’t worry.  I don’t want to break up anybody’s marriage.”

That was a relief, but later I wondered if Emily was just being kind and the real reason we didn’t need to worry was that we didn’t do anything for her sexually.  But, I told myself, we would always be friends.

“What do you think is the problem?”

 “For years I was really too busy to seriously get involved or even look, but now that I’m back in business so to speak, I don’t have any customers.”

“Have you tried yoga classes or women’s support groups?” Nikki asked.

“Or church?  I can ask Kate if there are any prospects at Epiphany.  Or the Unitarian Church;  people were always hooking up at my old church.”

 I didn’t add that they were also unhooking, but that was a minor point.

“Meeting people isn’t the problem.  I’ve met women and we go to the movies or a concert or something, but when they ask me in for coffee, all I get is coffee.”

“Have you tried asking them in for coffee?”

“Yes.  And that’s all they want.  But we’ll go to the movies again or get together for lunch.  It’s not that they don’t like me.  At least I don’t think it is.”

This was beyond all of us.  If a man asked you to the movies and you invited him in for coffee, you knew what was coming.  Not that I’d had any experience, since I got married so young,  But I read.

Then I got an idea.

I never really liked Emma Woodhouse, but perhaps I can do her job more efficiently.  “Maybe we can help.  We must know some women you haven’t met.  But it will have to be after the holidays.  In the meantime, you can start going to church.  I have to warn you that Epiphany won’t be Christmassy until Christmas Eve.  With the Unitarians you never know.  You can try both if you want.”

“Well, I might as well.  I’ll tell my parents that I have some friends who are matchmaking for me.  That should hold them until the new year.”  Then she looked concerned.  “Do you think I might need a makeover?  Do you think I’m clueless?” 

Nikki took charge.  “Of course not.  Anyway, we’re not the ones to ask.  But we’ll find someone to ask if necessary.”

January is so boring.  It will be nice to have a project.