“That’s Fireman Dan’s job. I do traffic safety things.” But no Officer Bill appearances for me that week. The suit had been returned to the artist for enlargement. Though my last outing with Officer Bill had gone fairly smoothly, I found wearing the costume to be rather creepy. The original Officer Bill’s papier-mâché head had been used to disguise a corpse in the Halloween haunted house. Putting the costume on always brought the murder to mind.
“We’ve got to get going. The rehearsal is at noon now. It shouldn’t take long since it is just the bride and groom and David and me.” David, my ex, was Dale Gordon’s best friend. How special was that?
Truth to be told, I was dreading the reception. My cousin, Cynthia the slut, who had slept with David— on Thanksgiving, in my parent’s laundry room, on my aunt’s fur coat, where they were caught— was also going to be there. And if that didn’t make the horror complete, Cousin Todd would be attending too. He was the beast who had bullied me all through childhood and terrified me with vivid stories of monsters in the library that scare me to this day.
I was very glad to have Alex with me on the return trip. I had brought my flexi-flyer to use as a sled for the groceries, but the hill felt a lot steeper in the snow. The wind was also picking up loose snowflakes and blowing them into an ice fog that left the eyes streaming.
Instead of leading the way, Blue took up a flanking position guarding the prime rib. The dog had her priorities and very large meat was at the top of her list. She didn’t actually expect that the roast would fall to the ground and need rescuing, but she is a dog and could not abandon all hope of such an epic event.
We made it home with time to spare. The cats thought that we should stay in, build a fire and cook fishy things and were not shy about expressing themselves. Apollo climbed in my lap the moment I sat down and began to purr. Erupting volcanoes would have been less noisy. Sadly, there was really only time for a hot cocoa and milk-bone pick-me-up before we had to head back out into the snow and the mischievous, stinging wind.
The church’s official address is Washington Street but almost everyone enters through the pretty arched gate on Larkrise Drive and this was the path that had been shoveled, some of the excess snow being made into snowmen who sported red and green mufflers. There was a live Christmas tree blazing to the right of the carved wood door and the stone steps were lined with poinsettias. It was not traditional wedding decorations but very beautiful. Candlelight services were always a big part of Christmas Eve, but we would have to miss them this year because of Althea and Dale’s reception.
The snowy view might have grown monotonous but because it was Christmas there were lights everywhere, and patches of greenery and festively dressed snowmen in many yards. If we hadn’t been on the way to Althea’s wedding rehearsal, I might have been carefree enough to drop and make snow angels.
We were the last to arrive. Alex stayed at the back of the church with Blue and the huddle of discarded coats while I entered the lion’s den. The only fond faces at the altar belonged to my Dad and Father McIlhenny. I managed to hug a pinch-faced Althea but ignored Dale and my ex since they were being chummy. I wondered where Mom and Aunt Dot were and then realized they would be getting ready for the rehearsal luncheon.
Althea had her practice bouquet made from the bows of gifts she had received at her wedding shower. The sentimental gesture surprised me a little, but I was glad since it would please my aunt who had made it for her. Alex, who had thought to bring a camera, snapped a picture. Althea’s face smoothed once the camera was present and she began to behave in a slightly more animated fashion.
We practiced walking the aisle and standing at the altar, but there wasn’t much else to do since Father McIlhenny would not go through the service until the actual wedding. I tried not to think of Herb Dillon’s death as I stood at the altar, but one of the stained glass windows was etched with the words: Build thee more stately mansions, oh my soul. Since this was at eye-level and the light off the reflected snow outside was very bright, it was rather hard to ignore.
I wrestled that tenuous enemy and won the battle, but knew I would eventually lose the war to suspicion. I just hoped my brain waited until after the wedding to fully engage. My family deserved my attention too.
Twenty minutes later we escaped into the biting cold air. As a group, we all reached for our sunglasses and then turned up Lemondrop Lane, which was the shortest route to Aunt Dot’s house. Dale and Althea had already blasted a path on the way down to the church, so the return trip was fairly easy going. I started singing Good King Wenceslas and after a moment the others joined in. The few other pedestrians braving the snow waved and looked happy at the sound of our voices.
Aunt Dot claims to be allergic to dogs, so we would be making only the briefest of stops at the luncheon. My aunt tended to do a lot of ‘salads’ in gelatin and other things I don’t care for on special occasions, so I didn’t feel deprived missing this meal. There was a nice crock of chili waiting for us at home.
I hadn’t expected any show of tact on David’s part, but perhaps sensing the deep disapproval of my family— and Alex’s baleful glare— he elected not to attend what was mostly a family function. Dale might have wanted his best man at his side, but my family had numeric superiority.
The house that Mom and Aunt Dot share is a single story bungalow built in the thirties. Very little has changed there in the last seventy years and I find this both a little sad and yet oddly reassuring. The house always smells a little of mothballs, Avon perfume (my aunt is a dealer) and bread. Not bad smells, but unusual enough to always make me pause on the threshold.
Blue stayed in the entry hall while Alex and I ate a token amount of food, said all the things we were supposed to say to the bride and groom, and then departed amid reminders to be at the church by eleven o’clock so there would be time to dress. Althea was optimistic about the roads being plowed and staying clear, and she could be right since the city would do all it could to help Christmas Eve travelers go on their way safely. Still, there was a chance of the pews being less full than she would like.
Other than showing up for the wedding, my duties as maid of honor were through. The florist would be delivering the extra poinsettias in tall, white baskets that would line the aisles, and the caterer was responsible for the food. It might have to be delivered by polar bears herded by elves, but it wasn’t my problem.
Alex and I smiled and joined mittened hands as my aunt’s door closed behind us. Blue woofled contentedly. We were all happy to be going home.
Chapter 7
Getting out of bed Christmas Eve morning was the sixth hardest thing I’ve ever done. No one else seemed to feel that we should be up and doing with a heart to any fate either, but Alex volunteered to make French toast and that helped a little.
Ten-thirty rolled around all too quickly and it was time to head for the church. This time Blue couldn’t come. She was understanding, but I knew that deep inside she was depressed. Blue loves a party.
The snow was melting but far from gone. Alex clung to me with the gentle determination of someone trying to keep a grip on a wiggling puppy. I wasn’t squirmy on purpose; the slush was slippery and my hands were full. He was taking my instructions to keep me and the garment bag holding the red satin dress out of the melting snow very much to heart. That was good. If I fell down in the sludge and muddied my hair Althea would really have something to remember the day by, and I didn’t particularly want to hear those kinds of remembrances or see the pictures for the next decade.
Frozen red and gold banners hung from the infrequent streetlights, wishing joy to the world. The wind had died down and the cold felt less punishing as we trudged over the river and through the snow.
Dressing in the restroom foyer of the church took little time since Mom and Aunt Dot were there to help and the space was reasonably roomy. Althea was amazingly calm and I envied her that serenity. I was coming down with stage fright and had to practice meditational breathing until I
was handed my bouquet. The red roses were nearly scentless, but what perfume there was made me want to sneeze. Suppressing the urge soon became a greater worry.
The harp was beautiful though, even through the closed door, and I was glad that Althea had listened to my mother’s suggestion of having a harpist instead of the church organist who managed to make everything sound like a dirge. She had chosen Pachelbel’s Canon in D and Bach’s Jesu Joy of Man’s Desiring.
The time came. Mom hugged me and then hurried down the aisle. I stepped out and looked at the long, narrow room I had known from childhood, trying not to see specific faces in the pews. David, a blur of green velvet, was at the altar already but I ignored him and smiled blindly at everyone else, even the photographer who temporarily blinded me with his flash.
With every step down the red runner I became more calm. The simple red of the poinsettias was elegant and there were enough candles to bake a cake, flickering in the draft that leaked under the old warped doors. At least I wouldn’t be cold in my sleeveless dress as I stood vigil at the altar.
Then it was Althea’s turn to walk the aisle. I didn’t look at her, but watched my father instead who escorted her. He looked very handsome and dignified in his old tux. Maybe, someday, he would walk me down the aisle.
Althea was soon beside me and we turned our backs on the guests. Father McIlhenny’s face was aglow with happiness. It was a relief to look at Althea and Dale and see happiness there too. After the last month’s tribulations I had had some doubts about this being a joyful occasion.
“Dearly beloved: We have come together in the presence of God to witness and bless the joining together of this man and this woman in Holy Matrimony. The bond and covenant of marriage was established by God in creation, and our Lord Jesus Christ adorned this manner of life by his presence and first miracle at a wedding in Cana of Galilee. It signifies to us the mystery of the union between Christ and his Church, and Holy Scripture commends it to be honored among all people.”
Father McIlhenny had a beautiful, hypnotic voice and I found myself getting lost in the flickering of the candles’ flames.
“The union of husband and wife in heart, body, and mind is intended by God for their mutual joy; for the help and comfort given one another in prosperity and adversity; and, when it is God's will, for the procreation of children and their nurture in the knowledge and love of the Lord. Therefore marriage is not to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly, but reverently, deliberately, and in accordance with the purposes for which it was instituted by God. The Church expects of you a lifelong commitment of fidelity, monogamy, affection and respect; honest but careful communication; and holy love which enables each of you to see God in each other’s image.” Father McIlhenny paused and let this sink in.
It wasn’t that I didn’t agree with him, but this was a solemn charge to lay on anyone and even I needed a moment to reflect. Mom and Dad had been married in this church. What were they thinking when they heard these words? It was all I could do not to turn and look at them. And Alex. Because I realized in that moment that my days with Alex were snatched from his other life and I didn’t know which was more important to him. And when he left in January I would miss him terribly. Did this mean that I could someday say these vows and mean them? I thought, after David, that I would never be ready.
And then it was time to help Althea with her veil. A kiss between the couple and we were done. We retreated down the aisle, which now seemed much shorter and went out the side door and down a covered walkway strung with twinkle lights to Friendship Hall. David dropped away from me as soon as he could and Alex took his place. Shivering in the outside air, I huddled in his warmth until we entered the hall.
Here, too, the poinsettias were in evidence and there were more white candles to augment the electric lights. Only the bank of lights over the buffet had been turned on so that the romantic ambience would be preserved.
There would be no sit down dinner, since tables would eat up the dance floor, but there were lots of hot hors d’oeuvres and a champagne fountain overlooked by an ice sculpture. The frosty swan was maybe a little uneven since he was close to a large candelabra and melting more on one side, but only if you looked at it from the left of the table. Face on you would never notice that he was lamed by the candles’ cruel flames.
“Oh,” I whispered, moving down the buffet.
“The cake?” Alex asked and I nodded. Instead of the usual cake topper of flowers and plastic bride and groom, the base cake was finished off with a croquenbouche. The creampuffs were dusted in powdered sugar and decorated with candied cherries. Here I had thought that Althea hadn’t listened to anything I said, but evidently she had paid attention and taken some of my suggestions to heart. I was touched.
The band had had to cancel because of the storm, but Mr. Jangles who played DJ at all the school dances was able to step in, and he was more to scale with the small room anyway. He was also good at gauging a crowd’s mood and choosing his music and volume accordingly.
I looked up from my crab puffs which I had been eating with maybe too much enthusiasm, and saw that Mom and Dad were out on the floor and doing the Harlem Shuffle. I tried not to gape but who knew my parents could do that?
Mom was looking happy and even flirtatious in her blue velvet dress and pearls. I heard her say to Dad as they danced by: “But I thought you loved me.”
“I can’t help what you think,” he answered but he was smiling and looked tender when he said it.
What was going on here? I wondered. Were Mom and Dad reconciling?
Alex returned with another glass of champagne. I had had one already, but felt no effects. Perhaps my leftover adrenaline was countering the alcohol’s usual devastating properties. All I felt was thirsty.
Cynthia (the cousin formerly known as ‘the slut’ but which I will from here on out only refer to as ‘that cousin’) danced by with a young man I didn’t know. She looked very demure and very unCynthia-like. Perhaps Althea had threatened her with something really awful if she tried to upstage the bride by wearing a black leather bustier.
I finished my drink and found myself on the dance floor and feeling a little fuzzy around the edges. Alex kissed me as we passed under the mistletoe hung from kissing-balls placed randomly about the room and I knew he was the one. There was something between us that had been missing in every other relationship I had known. Losing him became unthinkable. But what the heck was I going to do about this?
Finally it was time to go. The bride and groom, who had hoped to escape in a limo or at least a horse and sleigh, were being driven to the airport by David in his four-wheel drive. Althea tossed her bouquet. Well, she more hurled it straight at me. So I caught it and tried not to blush or look over at Alex.
“Ready?” Alex asked softly as we waved the bridal couple away with cold hands and blue lips.
“V-very,” I said with chattering teeth.
We could have slipped into the church for candlelight services since they were underway, but all I wanted was to change back into my warm clothes in the restroom and head for home. It was lovely to walk through the snow though and hear all those voices in the many churches we passed raised up in song. There is nothing more beautiful than O Holy Night floating over the snow that glows warmly as it reflects the thousands of colored lights that blaze out all over town. People in Hope Falls are usually energy conscious—and many are cheap—but this was Christmas Eve and every house, even the Dillon’s, had their lights on.
“Glad it’s over?” Alex asked.
I nodded. “And I’m very, very glad you were there.”
“Me too. I love weddings.”
But did he want one of his own?
Chapter 8
It was finally Christmas morning! Unlike the day before, I rolled out of bed, undeterred by cold floor and colder porcelain. Alex and I had been too tired to exchange presents the night before, but now I was rested and ready to get down to some paper-ripping.
But f
irst things first. I put on the coffee and put the monkey bread in the oven. It has risen overnight in the Bundt pan and was ready to go. Next, I gave the animals their breakfast and their stockings, so Blue would have her compressed rawhide to chew and the cats could roll in their catnip and leave our presents unmolested.
Alex let me play Santa first, so I made him sit in the chair near the fire and close his eyes. I got out the violin, fluffing the bow which the cats had somehow slept on. He was moved and for a moment speechless, but I saw the way he touched the violin and knew that he was feeling reverence for the antique. After tuning the strings, he let the violin say thank you, and I was certain that I had been right to give it to him. Musical instruments should be with those who love them.
Then it was my turn. I had been sincere when I told Alex that I had no idea what he was giving me for Christmas and I was genuinely surprised and also moved by his choice of gifts. His last trip to New Orleans he has stopped in a shop that specialized in masks and had purchased a dragon’s head. It was covered in velvet and jewels and was the most astonishing thing I had ever seen. If the renaissance jewelers had made dragon masks, they would have created one like this. In the other box there was a cloak, of matching green velvet with many small capes that reminded me of the covers of some Regency romances I had read. The style was called a driving cape.
It was my turn to be speechless, but I guess I looked happy because Alex laughed and then hugged me.
“You look like someone just gave you glass slippers and an invitation to the ball.”
“Only this is better. I would rather be the dragon than the princess!”
I tried the mask and cape on and after admiring myself in the mirror for longer than Mom would approve of, I dragged a coat tree into the living room and hung up the costume where everyone could see. It was disconcerting to catch glimpses of the dragon from the corner of my eye as I went about getting breakfast, but I felt a small thrill when I thought that I would be wearing it to a costume ball. It was just as I had told Alex, some girls might have wanted to be Cinderella or a knight, but I would much rather be a dragon.
Murder on Parade Page 4
