'Maybe this isn't a good time to be on a diet, what with all the stress over the wedding and all,' Grandma said.
'It's because of the wedding that I have to diet,' Valerie said, teeth clenched.
Mary Alice forked up a piece of meatloaf. 'Mommy's a blimp.'
Valerie made a growling sound that had me worrying her head was going to start doing full rotations on her neck.
'Maybe I should check on Albert,' Morelli said to me.
I narrowed my eyes and looked at him sideways. 'You're going to sneak out, aren't you?'
'No way. Honest to God.' He blew out a sigh. 'Okay, yeah, I was going to sneak out.'
'I had a good idea today,' Grandma said, ignoring the possibility that Valerie might be possessed. 'I thought it would be special if we could have Stephanie play the cello at Valerie's wedding. She could play it at the church while the people are coming in. Myra Sklar had a guitar player at her wedding, and it worked out real good.'
My mother's face brightened. 'That's a wonderful idea!' Morelli turned to me. 'You play the cello?' 'You bet she does,' Grandma said. 'She's good, too.'
'No, really, I'm not that good. And I don't think it would work if I played at the church. I'm in the wedding party. I have to be with Valerie.'
Valerie was momentarily distracted from her green-bean stabbing. 'It would just be while the people are walking in,' Valerie said. 'And then you can put the cello aside and take your place in line.'
Morelli was smiling. He knew I didn't play the cello. 'I think you should do it,' Morelli said. 'You wouldn't want all those years of cello lessons to go to waste, would you?' I shot him a warning look. 'You are so toast.'
EIGHT
'This is going to be a humdinger of a wedding,' Grandma said, returning her attention to her meatloaf and potatoes. 'And it's going to be smooth sailing because we got a wedding planner.'
Morelli and I exchanged glances. The Kloughn wedding was going to be a disaster of epic proportions.
We heard some scuffling and mumbling from the second floor. There was a moment of silence. And then Kloughn rolled down the stairs and landed at the bottom with a good solid thud. We all pushed back from the table and went to assess the damage.
Kloughn was spread-eagled on his back. His face was white and his eyes were wide. 'I had the nightmare again,' he said to me. 'The one I told you about.
It was awful. I couldn't breathe. I was suffocating. Every time I go to sleep I get the nightmare.'
'What nightmare is he talking about?' Valerie wanted to know. I didn't want to tell Valerie about the whale. It wasn't the sort of recurring dream a bride could get all gushy about. Especially since Val had almost gone into cardiac arrest when Mary Alice had called her a blimp.
'It's a nightmare about an elevator,' I said. 'He's in this elevator, and all the air gets sucked out, and he can't breathe.'
'All that white,' Kloughn said, sweat popping out on his forehead. 'It was all I could see. I could only see white. And then I couldn't breathe.'
'It was a white elevator,' I said to Valerie. 'You know how dreams can get weird, right?'
Morelli had Kloughn on his feet, holding him up by the back of his jacket again. 'Now what?' Morelli said. 'Where do you want him this time?'
'We should lock him up someplace safe where he can't get away,' Grandma said. 'Someplace like jail. Maybe you should bust him.'
'What's in his jacket pocket?' Valerie asked, patting the pocket. 'It's a candy bar!' She ran her fingers over it. 'It feels like a Snickers.'
Some people can read Braille . . . my sister can feel up a candy bar in a pocket and identify it.
'I need that candy bar,' Valerie said.
'It wouldn't be good for your diet,' I told her.
'Yeah,' Grandma said. 'Go eat another green bean.'
'I need that candy bar,' Valerie said, eyes narrowed. 'I really need it.'
Kloughn pulled the candy bar out of his pocket, the candy bar slipped through his fingers, flew through the air, and bounced off Valerie's forehead.
Valerie blinked twice and burst into tears. 'You hit me,' she wailed.
'You're a nutso bride,' Grandma said, retrieving the candy bar, tucking it into the zippered pocket of her warm-up suit jacket. 'You're imagining things. Just look at Snoogie Boogie here. Does he look like he could hit someone? He don't know the time of day.'
'I don't feel so good,' Kloughn said. 'I want to lie down.'
'Put him on the couch,' my mother said to Morelli. 'He'll be safer there. He's lucky he didn't break his neck when he fell down the stairs.'
We went back to the table and everybody dug in again.
'Maybe I don't want to get married,' Valerie said.
'Of course you want to get married,' Grandma told her. 'How could you pass up Snogle Wogle out there? It'll
