A Groom wirh a View

looked over and took all the covers off the furniture like Livvy told me to.”
    Like many old men, he’d lost any sense of pattern he might have ever possessed. His trousers were a faded, but formerly colorful polyester checked pattern, his flannel shirt was brown plaid, and his jacket was a dark striped item that reminded Jane of old-fashioned prison garb. This was topped off by a thatch of wild white hair, a grizzly two-day growth of beard, and a fierce scowl.
    “Could you show us around?“ Jane asked, be- fore introducing Shelley, who had joined them.
    He gave a curt nod. “This here’s the house proper. Reckon that’s all you need to see.“ He opened the heavy front door and shuffled inside, leaving them to follow. The door caught Shelley on the elbow on the back swing and she uttered a very rude remark. There was a dark entry hall with a lot of doors opening to heaven knew what rooms.
    Uncle Joe opened one and said, “Here’s the main room where I reckon they’ll have the wedding.”
    It was vast and dark. A huge chandelier that appeared to be made of antlers and fitted out with 25-watt light bulbs cast a faint glow. There were two fireplaces, one at each side of the room, and a good deal of substantial old furniture grouped around each. At the far end, there was an impressive staircase with a large landing at the top.
    “Good grief!“ Shelley said quietly, goggling at the furniture. “Do you know what this stuff goes for in the antique market? A fortune!“
    “Shelley, brace yourself,“ Jane whispered back. “Look at the walls.”
    Shelley glanced around, inhaling with a gasp. There was a virtual herd of mounted dead animal heads. Mostly deer, but a few elk, a matched set of moose heads, and one enormous buffalo taking pride of place above one of the fireplaces. She gaped for a moment, then said, “Well... you did say it was a hunting lodge, but I never imagined...”
    Uncle Joe had disappeared into the gloom. They heard the faint sound of a door opening somewhere.
    Jane said, “I guess we’re on our own to explore further. It looks fairly clean in here, don’t you think?“
    “It’s so dark it’s impossible to tell. What are you doing about seating for the ceremony?”
    Jane peered toward the far end of the room. “That’s a nice wide staircase down there, isn’t it? Livvy can come down that way—it would really show off her dress and we can shove the furniture that’s here back against the walls farther. I have a company bringing in and setting up very nice folding chairs the morning of the wedding.“
    “Is this room, huge as it is, going to hold everybody?“ Shelley asked.
    Jane sat down on a big leather sofa that enveloped her like a grandmother’s hug, and said, “That’s the odd thing, Shelley. There aren’t that many guests. I only sent out seventy-five invitations and a great many of them were out-of-town-ers who sent gifts but aren’t coming. Business associates, I assume. There are only about forty people coming—plus the staff that will be staying here. You, me, the seamstress, caterer, and florist. And the immediate family members, of course.“
    “Don’t forget Uncle Joe,“ Shelley said. “Doesn’t it seem a bit odd to go to such trouble and expense for such a small wedding?“
    “It’s what Livvy wanted,“ Jane said. “Who am I to argue with a bride?“
    “Where are the rest of the guests staying?“
    “There’s a smallish motel quite close. I’ve reserved the whole place. And most of the family will stay here. Let’s look at the bedrooms. If we can find them.”
    They groped their way through the big main room, and found a passageway opening off the left side. Along it were twelve tiny rooms on each side of a long hallway. “These must have been the monks’ rooms,“ Shelley said, opening the closest door with considerable trepidation.
    It was a very small room with a single bed, a nightstand with a kerosene lamp, a wardrobe closet, and a chair and small rickety table by the window, which was square, but hardly larger than a porthole. The furniture was old, solid, and plain. The bed had a rather flat pillow and a noticeably dusty quilt on it. Its colors were drab; it was the sort of quilt people used to make out of old dress suits. A second door led to a bathroom the same size as the bedroom, which had ugly, but clean, workable fixtures that looked as though they’d been installed in the 1950s. It had slightly peeling wallpaper with faded