England.
'How do you do,' Red said, pushing her spectacles up off the end of her nose. 'Nice bit of deduction, that.'
'Too bad I didn't deduce it till the last minute,' I said.
'Better late than never,' she said, shrugging. 'Are you really a blacksmith?'
'More or less.'
'Cool!' Red looked impressed. I decided I could get to like her.
'Red's going to help me turn Lawyers from Hell into a computer game,' Rob said. They went off discussing RAM and mice and object-oriented programming and other things that I had no idea Rob knew anything about. Well, he was happy, anyway.
The party was definitely hitting its stride. Aunt Catriona tried to convince Natalie to play her bagpipes, but reason--or stage fright--prevailed. Undeterred, Aunt Catriona performed her justly notorious highland fling unaccompanied. With her final kick, she lost one of her spike heels, which arched across the dance floor to lodge in Great-Aunt Betty's bouffant hairdo.
Despite the fact that their usual grounds were occupied by at least four hundred people, the croquet crowd were wandering about with their mallets in hand, trying to set up wickets.
I sat on the edge of the patio wall and gazed over the lawn. These were my family. My kin. My blood. I felt a strong, deeply rooted desire to get the hell out of town before they drove me completely over the edge.
And I could now. The sculptor still had my house till Labor Day, but there was no earthly reason for me to stay here. I could go ... anywhere!
I began to feel more cheerful.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mother standing at the edge of the rock garden, preparing to launch her bouquet. I gauged the distance, satisfied myself that there was no way Mother's delicate arm could possibly throw the bouquet anywhere near me, and snagged a glass of champagne with a strawberry in it from a passing waiter.
'Aren't you going to try for it?' Michael said, startling me by appearing at my elbow.
'No. I've sworn them off. I've sworn off everything connected with weddings; I told you that already.' I deliberately turned my back on the charming tableau of Mother gracefully waving her bouquet over the heads of a sea of laughing, chattering women.
'I don't care if she's had the damn thing gold-plated,' I said. I daintily raised my champagne flute to take a sip--when Mother's well-aimed bouquet bounced off my head and landed in the hands of a startled Michael.
'You touched it first,' he said, quickly stuffing the bouquet into my hand.
Hordes of relatives swarmed over to congratulate me on my detecting ability, my wedding organizing ability, my bouquet-catching ability. I smiled and murmured thanks and sipped my champagne.
'You're in a very good mood,' Michael said.
'The damned weddings are over. I can finally think about something else for a change.'
'I'll drink to that,' Michael said. 'Speaking of which--'
'I can't drink to it, I'm out of champagne.'
'Your wish is my command,' he said. 'Back in a jiffy.'
I glanced up at the sky. It was clouding over. Maybe a short, sudden shower would slow down the coming riot. I looked back over the sea of relatives. Then again, maybe it would take a deluge.
The band was playing an Irish jig, and many of the crowd were dancing, although most of them obviously had no earthly idea what a jig was like. I particularly liked Mrs. Tranh's interpretation, though.
'Charming,' Michael said, coming up behind me so suddenly that I nearly fell off the wall.
'My God, you startled me,' I said.
'Sorry,' he said. 'I need to talk to you.'
'So talk,' I said, watching two of my great-uncles, who were perched on the diving board beginning some sort of arm-wrestling contest.
'Not here. Come with me,' Michael said, taking me gently but firmly by the arm.
'Where?' I asked.
'This way,' he said, dragging me around the other side of the house to a point out of sight of the wedding festivities.
'Michael, I adore masterful men,' I said sarcastically, 'but what on earth is this about?'
'Sit here,' he said, pointing to a picnic bench that had somehow not been requisitioned for the reception.
'I can't see what's going on from here,' I protested.
'We know what's going on,' he said. 'Your family are eating and drinking and doing bizarre things. This is important.'
'What if someone needs me?'
'They can do without you for a few minutes. This is important. I want to explain something to you.'
'So explain.'
'No, first you have to promise me something. Promise me you'll hear me out.'
'Okay.'
'I mean it,' he insisted. 'No interruptions. If one of the kids comes running up with a broken arm you'll send him off to your father. If your mother needs something, you'll let your sister take care of it. If a dead body falls out of the trees you'll ignore it until I finish.'
'Michael, whatever it is, you could probably have explained it by now. I promise you, I'll ignore an earthquake; get on with it.'
'Okay,' he said. And sat there looking at me.
'Well?' I said, impatiently.
'I'm suddenly speechless.'
'That must be a first,' I said, starting to rise. 'Look, while you're collecting your thoughts--'
'No, dammit, hold on a minute, let me explain,' he said, pulling me back down to the picnic bench. And as I turned to protest, he grabbed me by both shoulders, pulled me close ...
And kissed me.
It was a thorough, expert, and fairly lengthy kiss, and by the end of it I would have fallen off the picnic bench if Michael hadn't put an arm around me.
'I've been trying to explain to you all summer,' he began.
'Yes, I think I'm getting the picture. Explain it to me some more,' I said, pulling his head back down to mine.
It was during the second kiss that the first of the fireworks hit us. Quite literally; the grandchildren had begun setting off an impressive array of fireworks, and one badly aimed skyrocket went whizzing by and sideswiped Michael's ear.
'They're doing it again,' he exclaimed, jumping up.
'Have the kids been shooting fireworks at you? You should have told someone; that's strictly against the rules.'
'No, I mean they're interrupting us,' he said. 'They've been doing it all summer. The whole town has, for that matter.'
'You can't really accuse everyone of interrupting us,' I said. 'I don't suppose it ever dawned on anyone there was an us to interrupt. It certainly never dawned on me. Was there a particular reason you decided to pretend to be gay all summer? Research for a part or something?'
'I didn't decide; it just happened,' he said. 'I turned down some pretty disgustingly blunt propositions from a couple of Samantha's bridesmaids and then I found they'd spread it all over town that I was gay.'
'You could have said something.'
'I didn't really give a damn at first. I figured, who cares, and it would keep the matchmaking aunts and predatory bridesmaids at bay. But then you came along, and they convinced you, and every time I tried to explain to you, someone would come along and drag you away to do something for one of the weddings, or something would explode, or a dead body would turn up. It's been driving me crazy.'
'That's my family for you,' I said, nodding.
