"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."
"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!"
"He spent twenty minutes staring at a potted plant and scribbling down a description of the ladybug he found on it."
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