― T. S. Eliot
Safe Haven
I hate being devious or in any way evasive and yet I was being both as I watched Avery fidgeting with her pen and anxiously clock-watching as I deliberately ran out the time on my lecture.
Yes, I was avoiding her inevitable question which I feared had an insidious intent. And yes, I didn't want her to ask it―at least until I had an opportunity to confer with Maeve and arm myself for the next encounter.
"You'll have to forgive me ladies and gentlemen," I proffered by way of apology, "But I seem to have misjudged the time and have an important appointment to attend after class, so I'll have to take your questions next time."
There was no reaction from the freshmen who took the news in stride, except for Avery, of course, who gave an audible sigh of disappointment.
I pretended not to notice and hurriedly made my way out of the lecture hall.
I could have walked across the quadrangle on my way to the Hart House dining room―that was the most direct way―but I feared Avery might hurry and catch up to me and pose her question while we were walking.
To prevent that eventuality, I deliberately waited inside the lecture hall, peeking out the leaded glass windows until I saw Avery had reluctantly gone with her friend to lunch. She went presumably to wherever beautiful Sirens ply their songs when not sunning seductively and luring men to their ruin.
I know, I know...it's a little hyperbolic but who knows what evil lies in the hearts of maidens?
I didn't really breathe easily until I was safely within the staff dining area of Hart House and saw Maeve patiently waiting.
"Did you take the long way home?" she teased.
"No, but that might have been the case if I didn't take evasive action."
She arched an eyebrow but our waiter had arrived to take our orders and I requested a glass of wine in place of my usual club soda.
"It's going to be like that then," Maeve laughed, "if you need booze to fortify you."
"You have no idea," I told her
"The doctor is in," she smiled, and I felt like hapless Charlie Brown deferring to her Lucy.
The drinks arrived and I downed mine in two gulps and ordered a second glass when our waitress returned with the pasta.
Maeve giggled, not used to being tipsy at lunch.
"So what's your plight, my Lord, that I must set it right?"
"Please," I said sternly, "no allusions to Shakespeare, especially Queen Mab―it's already gotten me into trouble."
"Oh dear, then you are in trouble. I suppose you weren't aware that Maeve is an anglicized form of Medb and Medb of Connacht is said to be the inspiration for Shakespeare's Queen Mab ...just saying."
My jaw dropped at the disclosure.
"Why didn't you tell me this before and when did you become intimately acquainted with Shakespeare?"
"I've always loved the Bard and many of his characters from the tragedies offer insights into human psychology."
"This getting curiouser and curiouser," I groaned.
"Now that is pure Alice in Wonderland she laughed.
"Sounds about right," I muttered, frowning at my wine and feeling more and more desperate.
Maeve looked at me sympathetically and whispered, "Sounds like you're really struggling with something. Why don't you tell me all about it?"
It was one of those rare moments in life when I go completely blank. Where would I even begin to explain without seeming totally mad?
But if anyone could listen with an open mind and be able to help it would be Mab...I mean, Maeve...
Oh God, I was in deep trouble.