Diana and the Three Behrs

by Fleeta Cunningham

  “You’re surely not staying at Adler’s house, are you? You and Adler won’t be leaving until Trey and the owls do? Not until day after tomorrow.”

  Diana grinned. “No, we’re not staying there, not with Trey and three of the owls bunking there. We don’t need chaperones. We’re going to be at the same place Lotte and Papa Behr were that first night, that sweet Sunday house on Kleiner Street. The day after, we’ll be leaving on the train. Putting on the ritz for a few days at a hotel, location to be revealed later. We’ll see Trey and the fellows before they leave. And you, too, sister of mine. You can’t go back to San Antonio until I’m sure you’re doing something you really want to do.”

  “Your Lotte has graciously asked me to stay here for a few days, until you and Adler get back. I’ll have time to think through what I’m doing.” A wry smile lifted one corner of her mouth. “At least once in my life I’m going to try to look before I jump in with all four feet.”

  “In the words of my favorite sister, banana oil! You never looked first, not once in your entire life. You’ll decide where you’re going about the time you get there. It’s just the way you do things.”

  ****

  Bindler’s Hall had never looked as festive as it did that hour before the wedding. Banks of late summer flowers lined the walls, and ruffled paper bells, suspended by loops of ribbon, hung from the ceiling. In one corner the small band that played for the Saturday dances was warming up. Diana had only a few minutes to appreciate the splendor before Lotte whisked her into an alcove and closed the curtained doors.

  “You can wait right here until Papa comes to take you down the aisle. Judge Schmidt is with Adler, and he’ll let us know when he’s ready to begin.”

  Diana lifted a corner of the curtain. “I still don’t see Pam. I know she and Trey were at odds, but she won’t let that interfere with my wedding.”

  “She will be here.” Lotte steered her toward a chair. “You sit and let me do the veil. The basket of flowers is here. We should fasten them around the veil now, before they can droop.”

  Too fearful of tearing the fragile lace, Diana had waited to put on the last bit of her wedding outfit until Papa and Lotte drove her in the big Packard to the hall. She reined in her nerves and obediently sat on the straight-backed chair. Lotte took the sheer web from its tissue wrappings and spread its folds over a small table, smoothing the edges.

  “Now we will see how it goes together.”

  Diana closed her eyes as the delicate lace touched her hair. She couldn’t help wondering what the brides who had worn the veil before her had thought on their wedding days as they felt the first brush of fragile lace. A tiny shiver went up her spine.

  “Now, the flowers.” Lotte stepped back. “Hold your chin up a little so I get the wreath straight.” She took a circlet of small white roses from the basket and fastened them over the veil so it ruffled a little around Diana’s face. “Yes, you look just the way a bride should look, alight with joy. So pretty. Adler will think he’s marrying an earthly angel.”

  The door behind Lotte began to open, and Pamina’s red curls appeared. “Is it safe to come in? Or do you want me to wait out here?”

  “Pam, I thought you’d never get here.”

  “I had another small clash with Trey and walked around a bit to get my mind clear before you had a wounded best man and a bridesmaid in jail for attempted murder.” Pam, her navy silk dress a shadow against the white curtains of the door, slipped inside.

  “Tell me how I look. Lotte says perfect, but I want your opinion.”

  Pam drew a long breath, and with the determination of one putting private troubles aside, gave Diana full attention. “Lotte is right. You look like you walked out of a valentine, or a Valentino movie.”

  “Now your sister is here, I will go and see to the tables and the cake. Cousin Bindler can do some things well, and some…he needs a little reminding. Stay here until Papa comes. Bad luck for the groom to see the bride before, you know.”

  Though it wasn’t more than ten minutes before Erlich Behr tapped on the door, the waiting stretched Diana’s nerves thin. She was certain she’d drop her flowers, the feathery spray of white roses and pinks Adler had sent her. Or she’d catch the edge of her veil, and it would tear. Or she’d do something to disgrace herself, trip or get tangled somehow. Thank goodness for short skirts. At least she wouldn’t step on her own train. The silk dress Lotte had created and so deftly embroidered had no trailing hems or floating panels. It simply skimmed from her shoulders to her knees with only a pleated band of silk to mark where the flared skirt met the dropped waist.

  “Are you ready?” Erlich’s voice was barely above a whisper outside the door.

  “We are,” Pam answered, picking up her spray of pinks tied with streamers of white ribbon.

  As the door opened and Diana took Papa Behr’s arm, she heard the band begin playing “Always” and remembered dancing with Adler to that wonderful tune. He must have remembered, too, when he chose it. She and her escort waited as Pam made her way down the improvised aisle. Diana smiled, suddenly so filled with the magic of the scene she could barely take it in. Without knowing it, she had lived her whole life waiting for this moment. Adler stood at the end of the room, the path to him scattered with white flower petals. His eyes met hers and, as if they were alone in the room, she was aware of no one else. She started down the petal-strewn aisle, one step, then another, and then they stood face to face. The music faded, and she put her hand into his. They turned, and the robed judge stepped forward to meet them.

  “My friends, on this most wonderful occasion, we have come together to witness the beginning of a new adventure for our own Adler Behr and his lovely bride Diana Woods.”

  Diana, conscious only of the man beside her, made her responses, said her vows, but saw only the love and pride shining in the gray eyes opposite, until the words, “You may kiss your bride” finally registered and she was in her husband’s arms.

  The room around her burst forth with applause and laughter. She and Adler stood together and greeted the wave of guests that surrounded them. Diana was kissed and hugged and welcomed in at least two languages by people she barely remembered meeting.

  “Such a pretty wedding.”

  “Ah, a beautiful bride.”

  “He’s a fine man and he’ll make you a wonderful husband.”

  “Hope you’re always as happy as you are today.”

  The conventional salutations and wishes went on and on. Finally, Pamina slipped through the crowd and handed her a cup of something.

  “You look like you could use this.”

  Diana took a sip and welcomed the restorative powers of peach schnapps. “You’re right. I think I’ve been passed around like dessert for the last half hour.” She handed the cup back. “I remember Lotte’s wedding and all the people who crowded around her and Papa Behr. I didn’t understand then, but now I know what it’s like to be the center of the sandwich.”

  Adler broke through the remaining well-wishers, his tall frame visible above the throng. “I think we’re about to begin dinner, dear. You need to choose a couple to lead the grand march in.”

  “I do?”

  “Bride’s privilege, Diana.” He gestured to the crowd beginning to form up. “You pick the couple, we follow, and then everyone else chooses partners and marches in behind us.”

  Diana shook her head. “We didn’t do that at Papa and Lotte’s wedding.”

  Adler chuckled. “Only because Papa threatened mutiny if we did. You and I, however, must follow tradition.”

  Diana surrendered. “In that case, since they ducked the responsibility before, I choose Lotte and Papa Behr to lead the march. And Pam and Trey to be next behind us.”

  With the best man and maid of honor exchanging glares, somehow the march formed, the elder Behrs leading in and out and around the meeting hall, winding about the place, until at last the wedding party and family were seated at a table in the front. The extended banqu
et followed, with toasts and speeches, laughter and teasing. Pam, seated beside Diana, at one point leaned over to whisper, “Your wedding was more fun than any wedding I’ve ever been to, but I can’t think why. There’s not one thing fashionable about it. There’s no Charleston or tangos, and everybody is about as sober as that judge, but they all are having such a good time.”

  In spite of her words, Diana suspected her sister wasn’t enjoying the event as much as the others, but she didn’t see a way to end Pamina’s unhappiness. The wealth of kindness and concern in the little community flooded her, and she wished it would spread to Pam. If only there was something she could say to Trey, or some way she could bring the couple back together. She was trying to form a plan when Adler drew her attention to the cake that was being carefully carried into the room.

  “It’s too pretty to cut,” she insisted.

  “It had better be cut and passed around, or we won’t get out of here tonight.”

  “Oh, in that case, I suppose we must.”

  She and Adler stood beside the confection of candy roses and marzipan doves to share the first slice. From that point on, the waitresses took over. Diana was relieved that she didn’t personally have to pass plate after plate to their guests.

  “I think we’ll be able to make a graceful exit shortly,” Adler whispered in her ear. “Could I talk you into spending the night with a married man, my dear?”

  Diana felt her cheeks grow hot. “You’ve tried that before without too much success. Maybe tonight is different. You just might convince me.”

  “I fully intend to, ma’am.”

  “I don’t want to take a chance on something happening to Lotte’s veil. I’m going to get Pam, and we’ll go back to that little room. She can help me take it off and then give it back to Lotte. Afterward we’ll see about your proposition, sir.”

  Alder caught her hand, the left one, where his band of braided rose-and-white gold gleamed in the lamplight. “Hurry, darling, we don’t want to keep the glee club out too late. The damp night air isn’t good for their voices. And they will sing until…well, until something convinces them to quit.”

  “Won’t be a minute.” Diana slipped through the guests until she reached Pam. Together they ducked through the side door and back to the small room where Diana had waited before the ceremony. She sat gingerly on the straight chair again.

  “Take the flowers out slowly, Pam. I’m not sure how many hairpins Lotte used to anchor them, but I don’t want to miss one and tear the veil.”

  “Just don’t get impatient, Di. I’m going to have to feel for them.”

  “I’m afraid my wedding has been a trial for you, Pam. I never wanted that. I wanted you here to share the most wonderful day of my life.”

  Pam bent over the wreath of roses, parting blossoms to find elusive hairpins. “Don’t worry about it, baby sister. I’ll be fine. You just have a wonderful life, love that man of yours, and let your spinster sister come visit from time to time. Times when Trey isn’t within a thousand miles, preferably. I’ll be too busy breaking big stories and writing up the news of the day to think about him, once I convince that San Antonio paper that women are as good at reporting as men.” Her words were firm, but Diana knew Pam’s heart wasn’t as committed as her sister pretended. Still, Pam wasn’t open to more discussion, not by the way she closed off the conversation.

  One by one, the pins came out. Pam lifted the flower wreath a little at a time to find the almost invisible connections to the sheer lace.

  “There, I think that’s the last one.” She freed the wreath and put it aside. “I’m not going to touch the veil, though. You slip it off and put it back in the box.” She took two steps back. “I’ll be happy to take the box to Lotte, but that’s all I’m doing.”

  Diana shook the lace free of her hair and then gathered it up and refolded it. “I loved wearing it, but I’ve fretted all evening that something would happen to it. It’s priceless. And one day, I expect to see Elizabeth wear it, too. I want it to be perfect for her, when her time comes.” She tucked it into the box and put the last bit of tissue paper over it. “Go take this to Lotte and tell her how honored I was to wear it. I think Adler and I will shortly be escorted out the door by a group of serenaders. I’ll see you sometime tomorrow. Maybe.”

  Pam laughed, but Diana heard a note of pain beneath the merriment. “Oh, you’ll come out sometime, little bride. That man of yours is going to want a meal at some point.”

  Diana didn’t have an answer for that. She waved to her sister and returned to the hall. Adler met her outside the door. The room was almost empty. She looked around in surprise.

  “Be prepared. Just beyond that door is a swarm of people waiting to pelt us with rice. Once we’ve run the gauntlet, we’ll find a chorus of two dozen or so determined pranksters waiting to caterwaul behind us until we get to the house.”

  “I forgot about the rice, but I was prepared for the glee club.”

  “No avoiding either one.” He kissed her quickly. “Ready?”

  “Since we must, lead on.”

  A flurry of white met them as they dashed down the path toward the street. They’d just reached the pool of light under the streetlamp when they were corralled by a host of young men. The strains of “Meet Me Tonight in Dreamland” surrounded them. Slowly the group made a circle, joined hands, and made a stately promenade around the bride and groom. Another song and then a third filled the air before the circle broke to let the couple out. To the sentiment of “Moonlight Bay,” Adler and Diana held hands and let the glee club escort them down the road. Just as they passed under another streetlight, Diana caught sight of a face faintly familiar. Where had she seen him? Why did the face, a face that might have belonged to an angry elf, look so familiar? And why was the brief image unsettling?

  Chapter 22

  The glee club clustered around the rail of the porch, still singing, as Adler and Diana passed between them to the door of the Sunday house. Briefly Diana wondered if the club had picked up new recruits. It seemed larger than the group that sang to Lotte and Erlich. The thought flashed through her mind and was gone as Adler unfastened the door and swept her inside. The closed door only muffled the strains of “Bicycle Built for Two.”

  “Will they really sing all night?” She cast an uncertain look out the window where the group seemed to be settling for a long stay.

  “Popular opinion says they will. It’s never happened. Usually the exasperated couple does eventually come out, pass out some coin of the realm, say a few words about how late it is or how the wind is rising and it might give them all sore throats or something. After sufficient cajoling and larking about, the party will break up, leaving the couple in peace. However, they don’t appreciate it if their victims give in too easily.” He drew her into his arms. “We’ll have to hold out a little longer.” He kissed her slowly, with a wealth of promise. “Not too much longer.” In the shadows of the room, lit only by the distant street lamp, Adler moved cautiously until he found a coal oil lamp and lit it. It thinned the darkness a little, enough to see the wide room served as both kitchen and parlor. “That’s better.”

  “Better, but it’s terribly warm in here. Too hot to breathe, but if we open the windows, our unwanted guests will probably take it as encouragement.”

  “I can take care of the temperature.” He pointed to the narrow stairway that spiraled up to a sleeping loft above. “I’ll go up and open the vents. We’ll have cross breezes and cool air in no time.”

  She remembered the hinged panels and shutters under the eaves from Erlich’s description when she first asked about the Sunday houses, and she was grateful to the industrious farmers who had thought of incorporating them. Adler took the steep stairs two at a time, and shortly she heard the creak of a turning crank. In moments, cooler air began to flow into the little cabin.

  Outside the glee club had begun “Sweet Adeline” in close harmony. At another time, Diana would have appreciated the artistry, but she w
anted to be alone with Adler, and those mischievous boys were beginning to wear out their welcome. Adler, coming back down the stairs, seemed to agree with her.

  “Looks like they’re trying to set a record for persistence, my love.” He fumbled in his pockets. “I guess I’ll have to resort to the usual bribe.”

  “Do I really have to go out with you?” She suddenly felt a little apprehensive about stepping out into the dark with so many men mere shadows outside the door. She assured herself they were just the same young men she passed on the street every day, but somehow she felt anxious about the unidentifiable milling mass in the darkness.

  Adler sighed. “It’s customary, or expected anyway. They’ll want to do a finale, something in honor of the bride, while I go around and put a silver dollar in everybody’s hand.” He glanced over at the small traveling case by the door. “Hope I brought enough silver dollars. It looks like they conscripted all their brothers and cousins to fill up the ranks just for us.”

  “Well, if they won’t go away otherwise.” Diana shrugged. “I guess we’ll have to play along.”

  “Put something on over your dress, Diana. I think I’m hearing thunder in the distance. It may rain before we get them sent on their way.”

  She listened and heard the faint rumble as well. “Then I’m not going out in my wedding dress. If it got wet, it would be ruined.” She hurried to the small ground-floor bedroom, just a little more than a lean-to behind the main room. Wedged between the bed and a blanket chest was the suitcase Erlich had brought for her earlier in the day. She maneuvered it free, slipped out of her fragile white dress, and pulled on the first thing she found in her bag, a wrap-around cotton garment, something Lotte made so she would have “a good housedress.” She was still buttoning the last button when she joined Adler.