“Uh-huh. I’m not really into the morality play thing, but hey, it’s a start. He promised me if I did well, I would be considered for something deeper. I think they’re doing Tennessee Williams in the spring. A Streetcar Named Desire maybe, and I’d love to play Blanche DuBois.”

“Who wouldn’t?” Kristi said, though she had no interest in anything remotely to do with acting or being on stage. “So what’s with the morality plays?”

“I don’t know,” she said with a lift of one shoulder as she eyed the oversized menu of coffee drinks suspended over the baristas’ heads. “Just Father’s thing, I guess.” She stepped up to the counter and ordered a chai-tea latte and a muffin.

Kristi could tell Zena wasn’t interested in more conversation, so she walked back to her table and opened her computer. With one eye on the screen and the other on Zena, she picked at her scone.

Before Zena’s order was up, the door opened and Trudie arrived. Her round face was red and she seemed breathless as she spied Zena. She hurried up behind her and gave her own order. Within five minutes the two friends had scoped out the busy shop and were hovering near a booth being vacated by two young mothers and their babies. One infant was contentedly sucking on a pacifier while the other one was making noises that indicated he was winding up for an out-and-out wail. His mother was working feverishly to strap him into his stroller and get him outside. Her friend, with the calmer boy, wasn’t as frantic, but the minute the women had wheeled their tiny charges away from the table, Trudie and Zena nabbed it and sat down.

Kristi strained to hear part of their conversation, but only picked up a few words. She made out “Glanzer.” As in Father Mathias Glanzer. And “morality.” Probably the play. Zena was all about the play. And then she thought she heard the word “sisters.” But nothing more.

Kristi decided she was lousy at eavesdropping and was about to leave when Lucretia, wearing a long black coat and five-inch heeled boots, swept through the side door. Already a tall woman, she was now well over six feet. Kristi considered confronting her ex-roommate. After all Lucretia had asked for her help, then had been avoiding her. But Kristi decided she’d wait and see what happened. Maybe Lucretia was meeting someone here. Her lover, or boyfriend, or fiancé or whatever? Or maybe she was just grabbing a cup of coffee on the run. Whatever the reason, Lucretia, never particularly cheery to begin with, was looking perturbed and frustrated, her features bordering on haggard. As she stood in line, she ran a hand through her curly hair and stared up at the menu as if she’d never read it before. Or as if she were lost in thought, a million miles away.