“You two come with me to the back of the room. Ms. Eden has a beautiful basket of petals for you to practice with, Alice. It’s covered with such pretty ribbons,” Susan announced, knowing that would appeal to the decidedly feminine child.
“No ribbons for me, right?” Alex asked for reassurance, as he followed them down the aisle.
“None like your sister is going to carry,” Susan answered. Actually, the pillow on which the ring was to be carried was made from silk ribbons woven together. But she was hoping the young man wouldn’t find them too threatening to his immature masculinity.
“You know, it would be interesting to drive the ring down here in a remote-control car,” Alex remarked thoughtfully, smacking the end of each pew they passed.
“But you wouldn’t want anyone to walk out into the aisle and step on it.” Susan had raised a son of her own; she knew it was easier to distract a child than to try to win an argument with one.
“Yeah. It’s amazing how not-careful some people are,” he said, giving the pew they were passing a kick for good measure.
“Mom! What do you think? Aren’t they interesting people?” Chrissy had run up behind them. “Don’t you just love Stephen’s parents?”
“They certainly are different from what I expected—from knowing Stephen, that is …” Susan stumbled around for the correct words. “But completely charming. So California …”
“And don’t you just love the fact that Stephen spent his first ten years living in a commune?” Chrissy continued, apparently satisfied with Susan’s answer.
“Who would have thought?” Susan answered sincerely.
“I think that’s why he’s such a sensitive person. You know, underneath it all.”
“Probably so …” Susan decided it was time to change the subject. “Chrissy, where is your wedding gown? I haven’t even seen it! I looked in your room and …”
“It’s there—it’s in my room! I took it over to show Stephen’s mother and she promised she would bring it to the house and put it in my room when she came over for cocktails. She always does what she says she’s going to. Ask Stephen.”
“But, Chrissy, it’s not in your room!” Susan insisted, coming to a standstill at the end of the aisle.
“Mom, of course it is. Mom promised she would take it there and I’m sure she did.…” She paused, a slight flush rising to her cheeks. “Mom … You don’t mind that I call Mrs. Canfield ‘Mom,’ do you?”
What could she say? “Well, it’s going to be a little confusing, but we’ll get everything figured out eventually. I’m just glad you like his family so much,” she ended, realizing it was the truth. Chrissy’s ebullient nature would have been damaged if she had in-laws she couldn’t relate to. But it was time to get back to her original question. “When did you show Blues your gown?”
“Right before I went out with Rhythm—we went to this art gallery a friend of his owns in Greenwich, and guess what?”
“What?”
“I think it’s possible I’m going to be offered a job at a gallery in Philadelphia—on Rittenhouse Square, actually.”
“How wonderful!” This was just what Chrissy had wanted to do, and Susan knew how difficult these jobs were to come by. “How did that happen?”
“Well, this gallery owner Rhythm and Blues know is the silent partner of this other gallery, and Rhythm showed him some of my work—and he thought I had a lot of promise as an artist. And he’s always looking for artists who get along with other people to work in his gallery. He thinks it establishes the right tone.… Oh, Reverend Price is getting ready to begin.”
“Okay, now the last person to be seated is the mother of the bride. Chad should be the one to seat her.… Susan! Mother of the bride. Where is our mother of the bride?”
“I’m right here, Dick!” Susan called back.
“Mom, if I’m going to walk you down the aisle, I’d better be able to find you tomorrow.” Chad appeared next to her, a “you’re going to embarrass me in front of my friends, aren’t you?” expression on his face.
“You offer me your arm.…”
“I know how to do this.” And he showed her that he did.
Susan, walking slowly, remembering her dream of that afternoon, smiled. Maybe the body had nothing to do with the wedding. Maybe it would stay hidden until tomorrow evening. Maybe nothing would go wrong.…
A bloodcurdling scream from the back of the church stopped her wishes.
THIRTEEN
“Leave it to the flower girl to steal the show.” Dick Price peered down at his small—and startled—congregation. “Are you all right, honey?” he called to the back of the church.
Alice peered up from her mother’s arms with tear-filled eyes. “Did I ruin Chrissy’s wedding?” she asked, sniffling. “I just got scared when something fell on my head. I didn’t mean to ruin the wedding.”
“Of course you didn’t. This is only the rehearsal—and anyone else would have yelled just as loudly if that branch of fluffy flowers had fallen on them. You didn’t ruin—or even hurt—anything.” Chrissy had run back to the rear of the room to reassure the child. “You just woke everyone up—and we all needed it. Now, are you sure you’re all right? The flowers didn’t scratch you or anything?”
Alice climbed down from Kathleen’s arms, smoothed out the front of her dress with chubby fingers, and straightened her shoulders. “I was scared. But now I’m all right. It was just that flower.” She looked down at the white lilacs lying on the rug. “It hit me.”
“And that was my fault,” Erika insisted, leaning over the balcony to talk to the people on the floor. “I thought these were firmly attached, but … but this branch must have come loose somehow. I’ll check out all the ties myself before I go home tonight. No one has to worry about this during the service tomorrow. It will not happen again.”
“I’m glad it won’t. We don’t want anyone else beaned while walking down the aisle,” Dick Price said. “Now, if we’re all settled again, I think you’d better show your mother to her seat, Chad. Let’s get this rehearsal going. I don’t know about everyone else, but I’m getting hungry. Now, where is the best man?”
“He’s not feeling well.” The young redheaded woman who had been outside appeared in the doorway. “He said you should go on without him. He’ll be better soon—and he’s been in lots of weddings. He’ll know what to do tomorrow afternoon.”
Susan, remembering what Jed had told her about the young man throwing up in the parking lot earlier, made a note to ask what was going to happen if they found themselves short one member of the wedding party tomorrow. She was just wondering if there was some sort of protocol here—if the best man didn’t show up, did one of the ushers move up into his place? If that were so, what happened to the extra bridesmaid? Could she walk down the aisle unescorted? Could one usher escort a girl on each arm? She was just deciding that was the only answer when the best man appeared, dashing up the aisle with a slightly foolish expression on his face.
“Sorry to be late. I … I guess it was something I ate for lunch,” he apologized to everyone.
“More likely something he drank at lunch,” one of the bridesmaids muttered under her breath.
“Yeah, I thought he was cute, but who needs a date who’s going to throw up on you?” another bridesmaid answered.
“I heard a story about him at another fraternity brother’s wedding.…” Chrissy’s college roommate giggled. But the young women suddenly realized that Susan could hear them and lowered their voices.
“I’m waiting.” Chad was at her side, offering his arm. Remembering her dream, she glanced down at his feet. Birkenstocks—well, it was better than red Converse sneakers. And this was only the rehearsal, after all.
Susan took his arm and again started down the aisle at his side. “What’s happening with the best man?”
“Dave? What do you mean? Dave’s great!” Chad protested, moving a little too quickly.
“Chad, slow down! There’s no reason to rush down t
he aisle! And what do you mean, Dave’s great? How do you know him?”
“Hey, I’ve been hanging with the ushers for the past few days. Dave’s great …”
“You said that already.”
“Well, he’s Stephen’s best friend. They grew up together. Dave’s been telling us stories about the good times they had when they were kids.’”
“In the commune?” Susan whispered.
“Yeah. Neat, isn’t it? I’ve never known anyone who grew up in a commune before. You should hear the stories that guy tells …”
“But does he drink? Take drugs?”
“Nah! Why do you think that?”
“Just something one of the bridesmaids said—”
“It’s the commune thing,” Chad interrupted. “But this commune wasn’t like that—it was based on spiritual principles. Hasn’t Chrissy told you about all this?”
“Not a word. I hadn’t even known about the commune until Stephen’s extended family appeared at the house this afternoon.” She frowned.
“Well, you know how busy Chrissy’s been since she got engaged.”
Susan smiled up at her son, thinking for the hundredth time that she would never stop being amazed by the fact that she was shorter than the child she once had to stoop down to when she wanted to hold his hand. And now he was taking care of her. How nice …
“Okay, now let’s go through the beginning of the service. Jed, you’re supposed to speak up when I ask who gives this woman to be wed, but don’t worry about your guests hearing it. They know how the service goes as well as the next guy. Just don’t trip as you head back to join Susan in her pew. Now …”
The rehearsal continued on its accustomed path with no more—or fewer—than the normal hitches. When Jed joined Susan he said that the Canfields’ minister had called and was stuck between flights at O’Hare. There was a small panic when it turned out that not only did no one have the ring, but no one could remember who had picked it up from the table at the restaurant where much of the wedding party had apparently eaten lunch. That particular crisis was solved when the best man discovered the ring in his shirt pocket. When he claimed not to know how it got there, Susan decided the bridesmaid had been correct and made a mental note to ask Jed to check the whereabouts of the ring in the morning.
She wasn’t, in fact, all that interested in what was going on in front of her—and neither was Chrissy. Susan, remembering her own discomfort at her wedding rehearsal, had glanced to the back of the room to check out her daughter’s reaction to watching her own wedding. And discovered that Chrissy wasn’t watching at all. Her daughter had her gaze on something happening in the balcony. Susan glanced up there; Tom Davidson seemed to be helping Erika check out whatever was keeping the flowers up. She frowned, wondering why her daughter found this such an interesting sight. And then her attention was drawn back to the wedding party. Still standing before the minister, Stephen Canfield seemed to be as interested in his fiancée’s lack of attention as she was in the goings-on above her head.
“What are you looking at?” Jed whispered.
“Nothing.”
“Then why do you keep twisting your head around like that?”
“Shh …”
“What’s wrong?”
“Jed, there’s no reason for you to be looking back there. The Canfields are going to think we’re a little strange.”
“The Canfields seem to be a little strange themselves,” he whispered back.
“Shh … How can you say that?” Susan whispered back.
“Well, not many adults are still known by nicknames …”
“What about Skip down at the club? And that man from your firm that we had dinner with in the city a few months ago? He was called Bones, wasn’t he? And your boss’s wife couldn’t possibly actually have been named Panama at birth. And what about … ?”
“So let’s all go eat!” Dick Price announced, raising his voice and staring straight at the Henshaws.
Susan put a grin on her face. “Yes, let’s!” she agreed loudly. “Now, why don’t we split up,” she suggested to Jed. “You drive Mrs … Blues to the Inn and I’ll go with Rhythm.” Since she and Jed had discussed this idea just that morning, she wasn’t terribly surprised when he agreed.
The Henshaws had thought it would not only be more hospitable to spend some time with each of the Canfields, but possibly a good way to get to know them individually. Susan suspected she had read this idea in one of the dozens of bridal magazines she’d studied in the past few months, but she had claimed it as her own.
“Fabulous thought!” Rhythm boomed heartily. “There’s nothing I like better than spending time with another man’s wife—especially one as good-looking as Susan.”
Susan smiled, wondering what her mother was thinking about all this. She knew Rhythm was just kidding, but considering her mother’s idea of what went on in communes …
She was still thinking about this when Rhythm put his hand on her knee as they drove out of the church parking lot.
“Susan, we like your daughter so much. It’s a positive joy to welcome her to the family.”
Susan was relieved when the tricky turn out of the parking lot made it necessary for him to put two hands on the steering wheel. “Well, of course, we’re thrilled about Stephen,” she reciprocated, hoping he didn’t notice any lack of enthusiasm. It wasn’t as though she didn’t like Stephen, she reminded herself, it’s just that he was … well, so stuffy. Listening to Stephen’s father, she began to suspect she wasn’t the only person to think so.
“Blues and I think Chrissy will be so good for Stephen. She’s already brightened him up. He’s sort of …” Susan was surprised when the usually loquacious Rhythm seemed at a loss for the correct word. “Old,” he concluded. “Not like his parents, huh? Blues and I are always saying we’re just a couple of kids.”
Susan, who wasn’t sure she found the idea of a couple of “kids” in their fifties all that appealing, just smiled and offered directions to the Inn.
But Rhythm wasn’t so easily stopped in his enthusiasms. “And we love Chad and you guys, too, of course. And we’ll all be getting to know one another a whole lot better—spending holidays and vacations together. Blues and I have been thinking about renting a place up on Cape Cod for the month of August. And we’ll be expecting you and Jed for as much time as possible.”
“We …” Susan wondered if it was possible to make a nonrefundable deposit on an expensive cruise at this late date. And she didn’t want to mention the possibility that they’d be in Maine for fear this man would invite himself and his wife along for a long visit.
“Chad’s already told us he’d love to come.”
He had? “Well, then …”
“And we don’t want to leave without doing some serious thinking about the holidays. The kids will begin developing their own traditions this year and we don’t want us oldsters to be left out.”
Chrissy wasn’t going to be home for Christmas! The thought caused Susan more than a slight pang. “But maybe …”
“Chrissy tells me that you guys really get into this Christmas-in-Connecticut thing, but what Blues and I think is, maybe a change would do the entire family good. You could all come to California for the holidays—or maybe we could talk the kids into joining us on a trek down through Baja. I know Stephen has always wanted to try the snorkeling down there. What do you think?”
Susan took a deep breath and tried to finish a sentence. “I think we should leave that up to Chrissy and Stephen to worry about. We have this wedding to get through …”
“Yes, we do. I can see you’re a woman who likes to stay focused on the present. You know what I say—one day at a time.” He chuckled. “I let Alcoholics Anonymous use the slogan for a small fee.”
“I …”
“Just kidding. Just kidding. Now, what are we going to do about the Archangel?”
“I … What? What are you talking about?”
“The Archangel—that’s th
e name we gave our spiritual advisor at the commune.”
“That’s the minister who is stuck at the airport?” Susan asked, hoping she hadn’t missed something here.
“Yup. Probably started a theological-slash-philosophical discussion with someone and forgot to get on the plane. The Archangel has always been like that.”
Susan had a vision of a tall, emaciated man dressed entirely in black, sitting on a purple or orange polystyrene chair, a Bible held in his lap, chatting about Kant with a harried businessman.… She had to admit, her imagination boggled at the thought. “How do you know where—?”
“We got a message at the Inn. The Archangel had missed the plane and would be arriving at LaGuardia at nine-thirty tonight.”
That was a relief, because Susan was beginning to realize this wedding was going to need all the help—spiritual or otherwise—it could get.
FOURTEEN
“Charles, you are a genius!” Susan stared at the room filled with more tables than she had even considered ordering. Glasses gleamed. Flowers perfumed the air. Candles flickered. Everything was beautiful. She was so relieved, she thought for a moment she might cry. “How did you accomplish so much so quickly? We had no idea this many people were going to show up for the dinner tonight …”
“I was prepared for Jed’s call. Everyone at the Inn is well aware of the fact that your wedding party is … uh … slightly larger than you were expecting it to be.”
“They’re pretty hard to miss, aren’t they?”
“Let’s just say they’re all very energetic—old and young alike,” he added, as a male voice called out for more champagne from the bar.
Susan wondered if her daughter was joining a family of problem drinkers—not that they seemed to be having any problem drinking, she thought, remembering the old joke and starting to giggle.
“Susan?” Charles leaned toward her, a concerned look on his face.
“Sorry. I was just remembering a … a stupid joke.”
He nodded. “No one realizes just how much strain the bride’s mother is under.”
Weddings Are Murder Page 10