A Groom wirh a View

home, cash the check for the last part of her fee, and forget she’d ever been insane enough to get involved in a stranger’s wedding. She wondered if she could persuade her children to elope when the time carne. A nice monetary bribe ought to do it.
    Finally at ease, she went to the front door and opened it. The photographer was taking one last picture of the entire wedding party assembled on a slight slope so they fanned up the hill behind Livvy and Dwayne. Livvy was either happy now or giving a decent impression of looking as if she were. Dwayne was beaming. Some kind soul had relieved Mrs. Hessling of her huge, horrible handbag.
    Jane had the fleeting thought that maybe she should get a copy of this picture and put it in Mrs. Crossthwait’s scrapbook as the old woman would have liked. But who was left to care what was in the book? It would probably end up in a garage sale and some antiques dealer would buy it to use the old pictures with old frames he was trying to sell.
    The guests were getting hungry and were milling closer to the door. As the last picture was taken, Jane called out, “Will the bride and groom lead everyone back into the lodge?”
    There were a few grumbles from those closest to the door, who were the hungriest, but they turned into exclamations of pleased surprise as the crowd flowed back into the lodge and discovered the miraculous transformation of the room.
    As soon as most of the guests had gone along the food line, Jane checked with Mr. Willis that everything in the kitchen was in order. He assured her that it was and trays of second helpings of anything they might run out of were warming or cooling, as appropriate. Jane left the kitchen, then came to a stop. She’d been in the mode of thinking of all the things she must do and which would come next for days now, and suddenly, there was nothing for her to do.
    Nothing!
    She smiled blissfully and sank into the nearest chair and very nearly fell asleep.
    When everybody was through eating, she’d have to round them up and head them to the side room where the magnificent cake awaited unveiling. There would be a few toasts, the photographer would take pictures of the ceremonial cake cutting, everybody would have a nibble, and then it would be time for the guests to start drifting away.
    These happy thoughts were suddenly and violently interrupted by what Jane first thought to be a siren, but was a piercing scream that went on and on and on. There was a horrified silence in the main room. Jane leaped to her feet and ran to the closed door of the side room, colliding with Shelley and Mel as she reached it.
    Mel opened the door just wide enough for the three of them to slip in, then slammed it behind them.
    Kitty was standing with her back to them in the center of the room, shrieking. Dwayne was sprawled at her feet, his eyes closed, a huge red stain spread across his white shirt. Mel stepped forward and took her arm. She turned to him with a knife in her hand. She stopped screaming and started whimpering. He pinched the blade of the knife between two fingers and she released it, looking down at it with horror. Mel bent to put down the knife and examine Dwayne. “Shelley, call 911,“ he said calmly.
    Kitty drifted backwards, her eyes still on Dwayne, and backed into Jane.
    Livvy and Jack had pushed through the crowd and entered the room. Jack stood with his back to the door, keeping anyone else from entering. Livvy had one hand over her mouth and was clutching her father’s sleeve with the other.
    Kitty turned to Jane. Hiccupping and crying, she said, “Someone s-said the cake was beautiful. I—I wanted to look before it was cut. I c-came in. Dwayne was there. On the f-floor. I thought he’d f-fainted.“
    “Calm down, Kitty,“ Jane said.
    “Then I l-looked. There was a knife in his ch-chest.“ Her voice had risen to a shriek again. “I pulled it out. I thought it would s-save him. B-but there was all that blood.“
    “You shouldn’t have touched it,“ Jane said, averting her eyes from Dwayne.
    “I know. I know. But I thought—“ She looked over Jane’s shoulder.
    “Livvy, why did you have to do this?“ Kitty asked.
    Livvy made a noise like a mouse caught in a trap. A little squeak. Then said, “Me? Me! You think I stabbed my husband?“
    “You could have divorced him,“ Kitty said, sobbing. “You could have had the marriage annulled. You didn’t have to kill him.”
    Livvy’s eyes rolled back and she slipped to