Bride & Groom

And Ceci, Steve and I wondered whether you might be willing to read a poem. But you don’t have to. We know how much work it will be for you to have the wedding here, and we’re so happy about it and so grateful. So if you’d rather not read during the ceremony, just say so. You could choose any poem you wanted.” Steve and I had wanted to make sure that Ceci wouldn’t feel left out. We’d toyed with the possibility of making a secret wager about the nature of Ceci’s selection, but somewhat to our disappointment, we’d found ourselves with nothing to bet on: Both of us were certain that she’d choose a poem involving love and the moon.
    Ceci was beaming. “I would adore it!” With that, she leaped from her seat and hugged Steve and then me. Having finished our main course, we moved to the living room for coffee and chocolate cake iced with whipped cream. Now that Ceci’s house had become the site of our wedding, I regarded it with a new and proprietary interest. The living room ran all the way from the front of the house to the rear, where it became a small conservatory with a tiled floor, wicker furniture, and potted palms. As I was envisioning our wedding guests strolling around in their finery while sipping champagne and listening to Ian McCloud’s music, Ceci excused herself and immediately returned with a stack of manila folders that turned out to contain thorough and sensible plans for the wedding. Her principal concern, a reasonable one, was the question of a tent or tents. Late September weather in New England being as variable as it was, we’d need heaters. But would we want a dance floor? Although Steve and I were equally capable of making good choices about the arrangements, Ceci addressed Steve, who told her about Ian McCloud, the caterer, and our ideas about a menu. The food was Steve’s responsibility, in part because the caterer was a client of his and in part because Steve cared more about the particulars of the wedding feast than I did. After Steve had consumed two big pieces of cake, Ceci decided that he needed to go outdoors with her to examine the proposed tent sites and also to check on Quest, her Newfoundland, and Lady, who had been invited to play with the big black bear of a dog while we had dinner. At home, in our own pack, the anxious pointer seldom had the self-confidence to initiate play with another dog. India guided and protected her, Kimi bossed her around, Rowdy coexisted with her, and Sammy jumped over her lengthwise, but rarely was she sought as a playmate. Quest, however, had been startlingly and touchingly smitten with Lady from the moment they’d first been introduced. Despite his great size, he romped gently with her, and she, in turn, perhaps sensing his advanced age and the joint disease that plagues giant breeds, toned down her nervous energy to become as relaxed as I’d ever seen her.
    Alone with Althea, I was surprised to notice a marked change in her demeanor. Her ancient face was serious, and her voice, never loud, was so low that she nearly whispered. “I’m glad to have the opportunity to speak to you out of my sister’s hearing,” she said. “I’ll be brief. Ceci is, as you’ve no doubt observed, in a state of considerable hysteria about these murders, which are, of course, horrific and frightening, but constitute no personal threat to her. You, Holly, are another matter. Hugh and Robert share my concern, and I have promised them that I would speak to you, as I’d have done even without their prompting. The case that concerns us most is this recent one. I find it all too easy to see what happened. The victim, Bonny Carr, drove to her home at night. She pulled into a parking space behind her building and got out—with the intention of immediately getting her dog from a crate in the back of the car. Before she could do so, the murderer struck. What alarms me is that I can easily envision you in precisely that vulnerable situation. You go somewhere with one or both of your dogs. You arrive home. You get out of your car. You feel neither alone nor vulnerable because, in seconds, you’ll have a powerful dog at your side. For those few seconds, however, you are unprotected.”
    “Althea, I’m grateful for your concern. Steve has installed new outdoor lights, as much for Rita’s safety as for mine. Kevin Dennehy lives next door. I’m sure that he has cruisers checking our neighborhood all the time. As of yesterday, Rita and I have a buddy