enough to pay Tony’s monthly milk bill. She—her
name is Cathleen Forte—wants Tony to join her in the
leper colony over there.”
“Oh, dear.”
“That’s what I said,” Renie responded. “Except not
quite those words and much louder. Bill’s in a daze.”
“Yes, I can see that he might be,” Judith allowed.
“Have any of them set the date?”
“Not yet,” Renie said, “though Anne and Odo are
talking about next spring.”
“That gives you some time,” Judith remarked.
“Time for what?” Renie demanded. “Time to kidnap
our own children and seal them in the basement?”
“I mean,” Judith said, “to . . . um . . . get used to the
idea.”
“You’re no help,” Renie snapped. “I’m hanging up
now. Then maybe I’ll hang myself.” The phone went
dead in Judith’s ear.
It was noon before Winifred began bringing the costumes downstairs. Judith was astonished by the detail.
They had come, Winifred informed her, from one of
the big L.A. rental warehouses that stocked thousands
of garments, many of them worn in movies from fifty
and sixty years ago and lovingly restored.
“Bruno and I considered using the costumes from
Dirk, and Ellie appear in the film. We could have
drawn from Wardrobe’s collection for bit players and
extras, but we decided it would make a statement if we
used older costumes. More in keeping with the picture’s theme, you see.”
Judith thought she recognized Ellie’s outfit. It
looked very much like one of Elizabeth Taylor’s gorgeous gowns in
though seen only briefly on the screen—Scarlett
O’Hara’s honeymoon ensemble from
Pointing to the flowing robes and burnoose for
Bruno, Judith made a guess:
“Is this yours?” Judith gestured at a nun’s white
habit.
“Yes.” Winifred’s expression was rueful. “It’s a
generic nun’s costume, depicting the growth of the
monastic movement. We’re representing the eras the
movie focuses on. I preferred wearing something
closer to my own heritage, maybe Muslim dress, from
the period of Muhammad. But Bruno insisted that
be Muhammad.” She waved a slim hand at the
