Gaits of Heaven

decided that instead of retracing our route, we’d go through Brattle Square and then take Brattle Street to Appleton, which would lead us home. When we reached Brattle Square, we crossed to the far side of the street and were approaching an emporium of expensive women’s clothing, a favorite of Rita’s, when Anita Fairley emerged from the store. I wasn’t at all surprised to see that she’d been shopping there; she always dressed in coordinated outfits that gave her a polished look. Furthermore, it was no surprise to see that she’d been spending money; extravagance was one of her characteristic vices. At the moment, she was carrying three large shopping bags emblazoned with the name of the shop. In several other ways, she did not, however, seem quite like herself.
    For one thing, her long blond hair was in disarray; there was no breeze at all to muss anyone’s coiffure, and it was entirely unlike Anita not to have restored herself to perfection after trying on clothes. For another thing, her eyes looked oddly bright. My first thought was that she’d visited an ophthalmologist earlier in the day and that her pupils remained dilated after an exam. I immediately realized that I was wrong: the brightness wasn’t limited to her eyes, but included her whole face. Her expression was, of all things, animated. But the strangest thing of all was that as she emerged from the store carrying those big bags, she immediately accosted a dark-skinned couple, a man and a woman from Africa, I guessed, both of whom wore flowing academic gowns trimmed with vivid colors that signified, in some fashion I couldn’t decode, degrees or honors conferred by institutions of higher learning. Even on Commencement Day, with all its pageantry and finery, these people were exceptionally striking, tall and eye-catching in a distinctly exotic fashion. I must also mention that they were obviously engaged in intense conversation with each other while self-confidently hastening to some destination that they knew how to reach; they were clearly not hanging around hoping to strike up a conversation with a stranger, and I saw no sign whatever that they were lost and in need of directions. On the contrary, Anita the Fiend, Miss Uncongeniality, the personification of coldness and distance, had forced herself upon this couple, to whom she was now speaking with insistent friendliness. To describe my curiosity as piqued would be an understatement; I had an almost uncontrollable itch to know what was going on. In opposition to that fervent desire was an even stronger wish to avoid having Anita turn her attention to me. Consequently, before she had the chance to notice our presence, the dogs and I turned around and took a little detour to Mount Auburn Street that led us to Brattle, which took us to Appleton and eventually back home.
    When we got there, Caprice was pacing around in the kitchen talking to Leah, who was merely stopping in after attending the Commencement events at one of the Harvard houses and before dining out with a new graduate and his family.
    “If you seriously don’t want to go,” Leah was saying, “just don’t go!”
    “I feel as if... as if Eumie would want me to,” Caprice said. “Or as if I owe it to her. Or as if someone has to be there to represent her. Or her interests, somehow.”
    “Why?”
    “Because she can’t be there herself, Leah!” With that, Caprice started to cry.
    “Oh, shit,” Leah said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. Caprice, I am so sorry.” She gave Caprice a big hug and then got a fistful of tissues out of the drawer where they’re kept to protect them from the malamutes. Handing the tissues to Caprice, she said, “Well, if you go, don’t take any crap from anyone.”
    “I want to remind both of you,” I said, “that this meeting is not going to be some free-for-all in which people are allowed to attack one another. It’s meant to help everyone and not to cause further pain.”
    “What it’s meant to do and what it actually does could be two different things,” said Leah.
    “If Caprice needs to leave, we’ll leave,” I said. “But I don’t think that’s going to happen. And Caprice is going to have lots of support. It isn’t as if she’ll be there all alone.“
    “Caprice,” said Leah, “I know you love Lady, but the one you really ought to take is Kimi. Lady is a pushover. Kimi is tough.”
    I was losing patience. “Leah, really! Kimi is not some kind of