Bride & Groom

nose loudly and said, “Could one of you get Willie for me?”
    Rita was normally the sort of genteel person who avoided blowing her nose in the presence of other people. If she had no choice, she performed the operation silently and unobtrusively. Furthermore, although she loved Willie and took great care of him, she typically sought comfort from human friends.
    “I’ll get him,” Steve offered.
    Rita handed him her key.
    As he left, I said, “Rita, talk to me! You never take Valium or anything else. You believe in talking. I’m here!” Only then did I notice that Rita was trembling. “I’m getting you a blanket, and I’m going to make you some tea.” I put the kettle on.
    With a hint of her old spirit, Rita said, “I don’t want tea. You and your English novels.”
    Dashing to my bedroom, I grabbed a soft fleece blanket. When I returned to the kitchen, Rita had her head on the table. I wrapped the blanket around her and gave her a hug. Her shoulders felt thin and brittle.
    “I read good English novels,” I said. “Would you rather have Ovaltine?”
    She shook her head. Her hair was a mess. “I look awful,” she said.
    “You look upset.”
    Steve returned with Willie, who, for once, didn’t bark at me or eye my ankles. Instead, he ran to Rita. She always kept him as perfectly groomed as she kept herself. As usual, his coat was freshly clipped. His eyes glowed, and he radiated energy. For style, you just can’t beat the Scottish terrier. It is not, however, a mushy breed, and Willie was not a cuddly dog. Even now, he didn’t lean against Rita or jump in her lap. Instead, he stood boldly before her with his little tail flying back and forth. Then he uttered a single bark. At Willie’s display of bravery and good cheer, Rita again started to sob.
    The kettle was boiling. I made sugary tea and put a cup of it in front of Rita. Then I took a seat next to her. Steve sat opposite us. He reached across the table and took her hand. “I’m not real talkative myself,” he said. “You want me to leave?”
    “Of course not!”
    “Rita,” I said, “please tell us what it is.”
    “Holly, I can’t even say his name. All I want is Valium. Ativan. Xanax. Sonata. Anything! I just want to go to sleep. What I cannot endure right now is consciousness.”
    “You and Artie split up,” I said.
    “I have not even spoken to him, and God knows he never said anything to me that would ever have... oh, Holly, I just can’t believe it. It’s so grotesque! I just can’t believe it. I am such a fool!”
    Steve covered her hand with his. “Welcome to the human race.”
    Rita managed a hint of a smile. “You married Anita. At least I... except that I would’ve married him. I wanted to! I am too stupid to live.” She finally took a sip of tea. “This is awful. Do you have any gin?”
    “Wine,” Steve suggested.
    “Wine it is.”
    While Steve opened a bottle, Rita went to the bathroom and then returned with her face clean and damp. “I can’t begin to tell you how glad I am to see both of you. I couldn’t stand to have anyone else see me like this.”
    Steve had poured wine for all three of us. He handed Rita her glass. “Hey, we love you.”
    Rita raised her glass, and the three of us clinked. “In dogs we trust,” she said, “as Holly’s always saying. I should’ve known. He and Willie never liked each other.” She sighed. “So, I had dinner with Ceci and Althea. I was supposedly there to help set up for your shower tomorrow, but Ceci’s maid had done everything, really. The reason I was free— and by myself—is that he was at a bird conference at Cornell. Or so he said. And gullible moron that I am, I believed him.”
    Steve said, “Stop. Whatever happened, it wasn’t your fault, Rita.”
    “Thank you. You are a love, Steve. So, I left early. Early for me. Late for Althea. At nine or so. I took that shortcut you told me about, Holly, the one that goes down Norwood Hill to Oak Square in Brighton. I’d gone a few blocks. I was still in Newton, still in the part with the gaslights. They’re charming, but they don’t give much light, and the street signs are hard to see. I took a wrong turn. Did I ever! In more ways than one. And then what did I see but—” She broke off without saying Artie’s name. “What did I see parked on some little dark street but a distinctive Citroën. It was unmistakable. So... I am so stupid!”
    “You are not stupid,” Steve said.
    “I want to get this