Midwife Rose Carroll and I are good friends, so I thought I'd share a snippet of from a story our author wrote about us - but this time I got to narrate it.
Rose and I strolled up to the five-story red brick Merrimack Opera House that evening, its slate roof slanting down to meet tile work depicting the dramatic arts. I’d invited Rose to attend a performance of Strindberg's play, Miss Julie, which he’d written just the year before.
Rose, fifteen years my junior and a committed Friend, wore her best cloak over her best deep red dress, all without other adornment, of course. I’d indulged in a new hat for the occasion, since hair ornamentation was my great weakness.
“Isn’t it splendid?” I glanced up at my taller friend as we gained entrance to the foyer. Glass chandeliers sparkled with gas flames, and rich velvet hangings decorated the walls. A cluster of young people stood near the double doors that opened onto the theater itself. I spied a clutch of youthful dandies, including Adam and Tobias Clark, talking with Lily Hamilton and several other young ladies in their evening finery. Eva was not among them.
As we approached, Lily attached herself to Adam’s arm and gazed up at him. A wan smile overtook his face, matched by a furrowed brow. When we passed by, he cleared his throat and detached himself. Lily’s nostrils flared as she glared at us.
Well, it'd be telling if I went any further into it. But I hope you get a chance to read Delivering the Truth, featuring both of us. We get up to a pretty good time sleuthing.