myself. What would you like?”
“Heineken, if they have it, thanks.”
Harry went off to the bar, while the three of us tried to talk to Peter at once.
“How was your flight?”
“How are your parents?”
“Colin hates my shoes, Peter. I say he’s blind. What’s your opinion?” This last question was posed by Bridget. She twisted her leg out for Peter’s appraisal. We silently considered the item in question, a bright purple-and-blue- plaid pump, the heel of which was not only zigzagged (and green) but a good three inches high. I may have mentioned that Bridget has eclectic taste.
“I saw something very similar when I was out in L.A.,” Peter said wonderingly.
Bridget turned to Colin with a triumphant smile. “See?
He saw these in L.A. and everyone knows that L.A. is fashion central.”
“He probably saw them on a hooker,” Colin deadpanned.
“Colin!” Bridget yelped. “What an awful thing to say!” Colin looked as if he were about to apologize, when Bridget amended with a rueful glance at the pumps, “Okay, maybe they are a teensy bit over the top. But I had to do something outrageous. Tomorrow I’m going to look... well, I’m not going to look like
Her shoulders slumped underneath her neon apple green dress (a fashion statement in and of itself) and she stared dejectedly at her feet. It took all of my self-control not to burst out laughing. Colin smiled at her and grabbed her hand. “Honey, I don’t care if you wear a bathing suit tomorrow.”
Bridget’s green eyes glinted and I thought she was about to take him up on the offer when Harry returned. Thrusting a bottle into Peter’s hand, he said hurriedly, “I’d drink this quickly if I were you. Elsie’s spotted you. I don’t know if Elizabeth warned you about her, but she considers it her duty to, well... to test those who date the ones she loves. And from the look in her eyes, you are about to be tested.”
We all turned to see Elsie bearing down on us. Her silver hair was pulled back into an elaborate bun and her royal blue floor-length dress billowed out behind her as she skillfully maneuvered her way across the floor with the aid of a silver-tipped mahogany cane. There is nothing wrong with Elsie’s balance. The cane is just for dramatic effect, a bit like Bridget’s shoes. Nevertheless, she looked haughty and intimidating, like one of Jane Austen’s characters who make life hell for everyone else.
“Elizabeth!” she said crisply. “I don’t believe I’ve been introduced to your young man.”
I have known Elsie since I was nine years old and I still found myself stifling an urge to curtsy. I could only imagine what Peter must be thinking.
“Of course,” I said quickly. “Elsie, may I present Peter McGowan. Peter, this is Bridget’s grandmother, Elsie Matthews.”
“I’m pleased to meet you, ma’am,” Peter said, extending his hand. Elsie took it and held it in her own heavily bejeweled hand.
“Elsie,” said Bridget, a warning note in her voice.
“Hush, Bridget,” Elsie replied, not taking her eyes off Peter. Firmly holding his hand, she said, “You remind me of a man.”
I groaned. Elsie not only loved old movies, she considered them a mandatory element of any proper education, like history or algebra. Bridget shot me a sympathetic look and shrugged.
“What man?” Peter replied pleasantly.
Elsie’s blue eyes snapped. “Man with the power,” she continued conversationally. People started to gather around; they, too, were used to Elsie’s tests.
Peter did not miss a beat. “What power?” he said. I breathed a sigh of relief.
Elsie’s lips turned up appreciatively. “Power of hoodoo.”
“Who do?”
“You do.”
“Do what?”
“Remind me of a man,” finished Elsie, letting go of Peter’s hand with a snort of laughter. “I’m impressed, young man. Not many people know that one. For instance, I bet David here doesn’t,” she said, turning to her son- in-law. As usual, David had plastered his thick hair with products and was preparing to do the same to his liver from the looks of the very full glass of amber liquor in his right hand.
At Elsie’s challenge, I tensed. So did most everyone else, for that matter. When he was younger, David had been nothing more than a good-looking blowhard. His dreams of one day being a football hero buoyed him through any hard times and kept him upbeat. But once he realized that those dreams were never going to happen, he changed. His drinking increased and his moods became mercurial. In the early part of the day he was still the jocular backslapping friend to all—annoying but not threatening. However, somewhere between his fifth and sixth scotch, he turned nasty. Rather than a slap on the back you were more likely to get a punch in the face. Not an enjoyable prospect from a man who was six three and weighed somewhere north of two hundred pounds.
Luckily, David was still shy of his fifth drink. He threw back his shoulders and laughed. It was a sound not unlike a donkey’s bray. “Of course I do, Elsie,” he said. “It’s from that movie with... um, Gregory Peck.”
Elsie brandished her cane at him, causing David to take an involuntary step back.
“Yes, I know, Elsie,” David said. “I was only teasing you.” Turning to Peter, he continued smoothly. “So you must be Peter. I’m David Cook. We’ve heard a lot about you. Elizabeth said you were out of town on business. What is it that you do?”
“My family runs a hotel chain,” responded Peter.
“Hotels? You don’t mean McGowan and Company?”
“That’s me,” replied Peter.
David pulled his drink away from his mouth long enough to let a low whistle escape from his thick lips. “Jesus,” he said. “You must be loaded, huh?”
“Uh... not really,” Peter said. “It’s my parents’ company.” He shot me a quizzical look and I shrugged in response. Among David’s many odious traits was an obsession with money, mainly other people’s money, as he never seemed to have any of his own.
“Say, Pete,” David continued, “why don’t we talk later about you guys using us for your landscaping needs? Given Elizabeth is practically family, I’ll give you a good deal. But then, maybe I’d better talk to Elizabeth first,” he said with a broad wink, “and find out how serious you two are before I start handing out discounts.”
My cheeks flushed. “I would never dream of asking for special favors for anyone, David,” I said as diplomatically as I could.
David threw back his head again and made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a snort. “Oh! Watch out, Pete! Did you hear that?” he jeered. “You don’t even rate the discount yet!”
Beside him, Claire saw my flush and quickly interjected, “David’s only kidding.”
David’s eyes briefly glanced in Claire’s direction, as if surprised to find her next to him. “Huh?” he asked.
Claire did not answer. Instead, Elsie spoke. “As grandmother of the bride, I insist that there be no business talk tonight. Let’s just enjoy the festivities.”
David took a large gulp from his glass and shrugged his large shoulders. “Whatever you say,
Elsie’s eyes narrowed and her nose pinched as if suddenly assaulted by a foul odor. David missed the look, but Claire did not. Two red spots flamed brightly on her pallid cheeks. Glancing uneasily at Elsie, she gently tugged on David’s sleeve and pulled him away under the pretext of making an introduction. Elsie’s eyes followed Claire as she dragged her husband across the room.
Seeing her glower, Harry leaned over and said, “Let it go, Elsie. She’s a grown woman. She can make her own choices.”
“The man’s a jackass,” Elsie muttered.
“True, but as someone once said, ‘There is probably nothing like living together for blinding people to each other.’ ”
Elsie turned to him with a reluctant grunt of amusement. “Since when did you get to be so smart?”
