Bride & Groom

unwelcome... admission? No. And it certainly wasn’t a confession. On the contrary, Elspeth was bragging about her affair with Mac.
    “It was at a conference,” she went on. “We hung out together. And then we met in the bar that night. Admittedly, he’d had a fair amount to drink. I mean, so had I, for that fact. But Jesus Christ! Is that any excuse?”
    An affair? A drunken one-night stand. “Mac did say he’d blurb your book.”
    “He does that for anyone who asks.” She drained her coffee mug as if she were tossing down scotch. With an ugly smile, she said, “Let me tell you something I haven’t mentioned to anyone else.”
    Don’t! I wanted to beg. But I remained silent.
    “Mac knew Victoria Trotter.” Elspeth’s voice was low. She chuckled softly. “She donated one of her mother’s paintings to his vet school. He had something to do with accepting it. And you know, I’ve been wondering who else he knew.” The smile and the chuckle made me wonder whether Elspeth was making a malicious joke, as I thought she was. Then she suddenly became serious. With no sense of absurdity, she said, “Mac’s wife really doesn’t understand him.” As if voicing a fresh, original thought, she added, “Or appreciate him. He’s a very unusual man.”
    I felt almost sorry for Elspeth. But I felt far more sorry for Judith. Elspeth eventually left. I did not, of course, invite her to the wedding.
     

CHAPTER 22
     
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subj: No time at all!
 
 
Dearest Holly,
 
Here it is, the fourteenth of September, with the twenty-ninth no time away! I find myself becoming more excited as each hour passes. Your father and I thank you profusely for the beautiful photographs of your gown and Leah's and Rita's dresses. Your gown is as perfect to my eye as it is to yours. Your father regarded your photograph solemnly and then asked whether the dress had pockets for dog treats! Doesn't Buck have a wonderfully dry sense of humor? The shade of pale apricot you have chosen for the dresses of your attendants is lovely, and I thoroughly approve of your plan for collars adorned with roses in the same hue, especially because your favorite flower, the delphinium, is so very toxic to dogs, more's the pity. Besides, there are no apricot delphiniums, are there? And pale pink or baby blue wouldn't suit Leah and Rita, somehow.
 
Buck asks me to convey his opinion that the task of carrying a floral basket be assigned exclusively to India. He understands your desire to have your very own dogs take an active role in the ceremony and heartily applauds the loyalty that this desire reflects, but he nonetheless maintains that absolute reliability is of the utmost importance for the occasion and that the German Shepherd Dog is far more trustworthy than is the Alaskan Malamute when it comes to toting floral arrangements in the vicinity of preparations for catered dinners.
 
Speaking of Malamutes, the acceptances are coming in, including one with a delightful letter from your friend Twila Baker from Washington, who will be in New Hampshire with her dog, North, for a mushing boot camp the following weekend and will arrange to arrive in New England a week early in order to attend the wedding. What a dreadful drive for her! Three thousand miles, isn't it? We did include North in the invitation, didn't we? Not that it matters. One more will add to the merriment.
Buck, I must warn you, got his hands on Twila's letter and, once having read of the boot camp, is facetiously promoting the notion that you and Steve should cancel your plans for Paris in favor of the mushing event, which he proposes that he and I attend with you, Steve, and all the dogs. When Buck first made this proposal, he had me entirely fooled! I assumed that he was serious. He takes pleasure in putting forth the notion in extraordinary detail and with a remarkably straight face. Whatever my little Molly and I would do with all those sled dogs is more than I can begin to imagine, the sport of mushing not being one of the traditional pursuits of the Bichon Frise or, indeed, one of the traditional pursuits of yours truly! My pretend horror provokes your father to yet greater teasing. We have been having such fun!
 
I am ever so much looking forward to your bridal shower, which is practically here! How lovely of Ceci to host this event as well as your wedding. Rita is a dear to join Ceci in feting you, as the local paper always phrases