The only person in the house behaving normally was Rob. Which was a little abnormal, considering that he'd more or less just been deserted at the altar. Granted, he couldn't officially start the annulment process until Monday morning, but still, you'd think he'd be spending a little time reflecting on the whole disaster. But he came down at ten, ate a hearty breakfast, and spent the day curled up in his hammock with his books and papers. Working on Lawyers from Hell, I realized.
'I thought he'd already taken the bar exam,' Mrs. Fenniman commented.
'He's working on a ... related project,' I said.
'He's taking this so bravely,' Mother said. Dad and I looked at each other.
'You could say that,' Dad said.
'If you ask me, he's relieved,' I muttered to Dad.
'I agree,' Dad said. 'But don't upset your Mother. She likes fussing over him.'
The sheriff dropped by to tell us that there had, indeed, been digitalis in the caviar at the rehearsal dinner. And that it would probably be ten to fourteen days before they released the reverend's body, which was a relief. Callous as it may sound, we had enough on our hands with the cleanup from Rob and Samantha's ill-fated wedding and preparations for Mother's event; we didn't need a funeral on top of everything else.
Monday, July 25
Monday morning, while the family legal minds dragged Rob off to begin the annulment proceedings, Mother hauled me into Be-Stitched and insisted that I be blindfolded while I tried on my bridesmaid's dress for her wedding.
'This is totally ridiculous,' I said.
'Humor me, Meg dear,' she said.
'Don't I always?'
All I could tell about the dress was that the material was some kind of butter-soft silk that made you want to stroke it, and that it didn't have either hoops or an excessively low-cut front. Mother was ecstatic with its appearance, which didn't reassure me in the slightest, and Mrs. Tranh and the ladies seemed pleased, which did reassure me, but only a little.
'How does it look, really?' I asked Michael, who came back to the house to have lunch with us.
'Fantastic,' he said. 'Really, you're going to like it.'
'I damn well better.'
'You really don't like giving up control of things, do you?' Michael asked.
'No, I don't,' I said. 'That sounds like Dad's capsule analysis of my character flaws. What else has he been telling you?'
'He thinks you intimidate most men--he's not sure whether it's deliberate or not--and on those rare occasions when you meet someone who's not intimidated by you, you run for cover.'
'Really.'
'He's decided that the best thing for you would be to meet the right guy under circumstances that would allow you to get to know each other as friends before the possibility of anything else comes up.'
'Please tell me he's not about to start playing matchmaker,' I said, wincing.
'I ... think he's perfectly happy to leave things alone for the moment. Until all the weddings are all over.'
'That's fine; after the weddings are all over, I can escape.'
'We'll see,' Michael said.
I wondered if he was planning on helping Dad. Just great. Dad and Michael, sitting around discussing the sorry state of my love life and trying to do something about it. The idea depressed me. And seeing Jake at one end of the family dinner table--timid, bland, ferret-faced Jake--was enough to complete the depression. Mother may have good taste in bridesmaid's dresses--the jury was still out on that--but her taste in bridegrooms had certainly gone downhill.
'I'm going to sit outside and be idle,' I announced as lunch ended. 'I'm going to lounge in one of the folding lawn chairs, sip lemonade, and leaf through whatever magazines I can find that I can feel reasonably sure have no pictures of brides in them.'
'I'll join you, if you don't mind,' Michael said, following me out the door.
'They won't miss you at the shop?' I asked.
'They're at a point on this set of dresses where they can manage without me right now. As a matter of fact, they're at a point where I would be very much underfoot.'
'Then you can amuse me with witty conversation,' I said.
'I don't know how witty it will be. But I have been meaning to talk to you about something. Now that things are settling down a little.'
We gathered up the lemonade and lawn chairs and found a nice shady spot under the largest oak tree on the lawn. But just as we were setting up our chairs, a peacock leaped out of the tree and began strutting up and down the lawn with his tail spread. We looked around and saw a peahen behind us.
'I think we're in his way,' I remarked. 'He has my heartfelt sympathy,' Michael said. 'Let's give them a little privacy. God knows that can be hard enough to find around here.'
We picked up our lawn chairs and moved down the lawn to an almost-as-shady spot. The peacock followed and resumed his mating display in front of us.
'He seems to be a little confused,' Michael observed.
'We could split up and see which one of us he's really interested in,' I suggested.
'I'm not sure I want to know,' Michael said. 'I thought they were just rented for Samantha's wedding. Did you decide to keep them around for your mother's after all?'
'We decided to keep them around permanently.' I sighed. 'The grandchildren put up such a fuss this morning when Mr. Dibbit came to pick them up that Dad talked him into selling them. I think Eric has them confused with turkeys. He's walking around bragging about having rescued them from somebody's dinner table.'
'Every home should have a few peacocks.'
'If you really feel that way, I could write your name on a couple of the eggs.'
'Eggs?'
'Of course, I've only seen one so far, and I have no idea how many they hatch at one time. But if you keep your eyes open, you'll notice you don't see most of the hens. They're off ... somewhere. Incubating, we think. Dad and Eric have put in a special order at the bookstore for books on peafowl and general poultry care, so within a week or two the entire family will be walking experts on peacock husbandry.'
'I can hardly wait,' Michael said.
'I can.'
'I think you need to get away from your family for a little while.'
'That's what I'm doing right now,' I explained.
'Out here in full view, where anyone who wants to find you can just walk right up and find you?'
'Well, what do you suggest?'
'Let's go to dinner someplace,' he said. 'Someplace that is not run by any of your mother's family or anyone who even knows you and will come up and start babbling about the weddings.'
'I wish I could,' I said. 'But I shouldn't. Not until after the wedding. Things are too crazy. I shouldn't be sitting here doing nothing now.'
Still, I was considering changing my mind and taking him up on it when Dad and Pam came running out of the house.
'Meg! Michael! You'll never guess what's happened?' Pam called.
'They've tracked Samantha down in Rio de Janeiro and are trying to get her extradited for Mrs. Grover's murder,' I said.
'Rats! Who told you?' Pam said crossly. 'But you're wrong about Rio; it was the Caymans.'
'Are you serious?' Michael asked.
