Bride & Groom

clapping and Kimi’s woo-woo ing accounted for a lot of the noise that followed, but I still felt pleased to have done anything even remotely like a reading from 101 Ways to Cook Liver.
    While I’d held the center of the minuscule stage, Mac had stood off to the side. He joined me now and invited questions and comments. Elspeth’s hand popped up, and when Mac pointed to her, she said, “Hi, Mac! Nice to see you. You, too, Holly. I just want to say that I loved both of your books. You two are the best.”
    Glancing at Mac, I saw no indication that he recognized Elspeth. Knowing her as I did, I assumed that she was claiming acquaintance to ask Mac a favor. Mac’s blank look vanished in a second, we both thanked Elspeth, and then a stranger asked how we’d gotten published.
    “Luck,” I blurted out.
    Mac recommended web sites and books. He emphasized the need for persistence. He was terrific. No one would’ve guessed that he’d taken no initiative whatever about finding a publisher; on the contrary, he’d been approached by his publisher and asked to do his first book, and his second one was a follow-up to the first. After a few more questions, someone who liked my column asked where Rowdy was and then asked Mac about the Bernese mountain dog on the cover of his book. As Mac was answering, Sidney returned with Judith and Uli. After that, our little audience ignored us, fell all over the dogs, and even I, the author of 101 Ways to Cook Liver, have to admit that we couldn’t have liver-bribed Uli and Kimi to act any sweeter than they did all on their own. The black, rust, and white of Bernese mountain dogs is striking, and to his breed’s beauty, Uli added the engaging habit of smiling. Do dogs really smile? Uli did. He also wagged his white-tipped tail over his big back and, with grace and nobility, accepted the petting of strangers. Uli was perfectly groomed and unmistakably ancient. My heart went out to Judith. In contrast to the sedate Uli, Kimi staged a Rowdy-worthy performance by singing Arctic carols, flinging herself onto the floor, rolling over, wiggling her legs in the air, and then tucking in her forepaws and directing big-brown-eyed pleas for tummy rubs at five potential book buyers, all of whom complied with her demands by administering thumps and scratches, and four of whom had me sign books.
    As I was sitting at the table penning the final inscription (“To Frodo, Bilbo, Merry, Pippin, and Evelyn, and with special congratulations to AM/CAN CH Galadriel’s Entwife...”), Elspeth’s red glow shone in the comer of my eye, and I heard her address Mac, who sat next to me. “Hey, Mac, it’s been a long time,” she said.
    As smoothly as usual, Mac said, “I guess it has.”
    A quick peek showed me that Elspeth was presenting him with a copy of Ask Dr. Mac.
    “How’d you like this signed? Is it a Christmas present for someone?”
    “Just make it to me,” Elspeth said. “ ‘For old times’ sake.’ ”
    Mac shifted almost imperceptibly.
    I took pity on him. “Elspeth,” I said with admirable clarity and a special emphasis on the p, “it was very nice of you to come tonight.”
    “My pleasure. Actually, there’s something I want to talk to both of you about.”
    I now saw that she held not one manila envelope but two. A smiling couple rescued Mac by asking him to sign a book. No one rescued me. “My editor,” Elspeth said, “was so happy when I told her that you and Mac might do blurbs for my book.” Thrusting one of the envelopes at me, she added, “I’ve brought you the first two chapters, and there’s a form for you to send an advance quote to my publisher.”
    “My time is really short right now,” I said, carefully avoiding using my wedding plans as an excuse.
    “You’re always so busy. That’s why I didn’t bring the whole book. Not that it’s very long.”
    “What’s it about?” I hoped, of course, that the topic would be one I was unqualified to comment on.
    “Kindness to animals. It’s for parents and teachers. It has a companion story for children. It’s about how to teach kindness to children.”
    I could hardly object. “I’ll be glad to read it. But I’ll need to see the whole book.” I was, I might mention, going against Mac’s advice. He’d told me to write every cover quote I had the chance to do. But I was simply incapable of pretending to have read,,never mind liked, a book I hadn’t gone through in its entirety. Worse, I knew myself to be