Honeymoon for Three

telling you this on the second day of our marriage. Henry got married two years ago, and, as I said, I was his best man. For some reason he spread the rumor that I was…queer. I have no idea why he did it.”
    “Well, I can give you a reference. Do you think it might have anything to do with the fact that you’re probably a lot better looking than he is?”
    “I never thought of that. Anyway, he got everybody connected with the wedding to believe it.”
    “Since you were roommates, didn’t that implicate him?”
    “He told people that we had separate bedrooms and agreed to live our own lives. I brought in guys, and he brought in girls. Of course that never happened—including him bringing in girls. He wasn’t a big success with the ladies. He got his wife because she found out that he was a member of a rich family. Not to put too fine a point on it, but she was a gold digger.”
    “Did you confront him with this?”
    “Yes, but he laughed it off. Said it was just a joke and nobody would care in two years.”
    “Except that it’s been two years, and you obviously still care.”
    “Because of what happened. They got married in San Diego where the bride’s parents lived. The wedding party was staying in a hotel. Henry engineered it so that on the day of the wedding I didn’t have a room to use to change into my wedding clothes.”
    “How could he do that?” Penny sounded belligerent.
    “Because he was paying for my room.” Gary sounded sheepish. Maybe he shouldn’t have started this topic. “Anyway, he said he needed my room for something else. He said the only room available was the one the bridesmaids were using. I would have to share it with them.”
    Penny gasped, and Gary knew he was digging himself deeper.
    “I figured the girls would veto it, but they said fine.”
    “So you got dressed in the same room with the bridesmaids?”
    “Yes.” He wanted to end the discussion right there.
    “How many girls were there?”
    “Three.”
    “Were they good looking?”
    “Oh, average.”
    “Sure they were.” Penny didn’t try to hide her sarcasm.
    All right, they were gorgeous. The one thing he liked about the bride was her girlfriends. Out loud, he gave a noncommittal grunt.
    “How did it work out for my poor Garykins?” Penny asked with mock sympathy.
    “We made do. We respected each other.”
    Penny snorted. “Gary, I feel for you, but I can’t quite reach you.” She started playing an imaginary violin. “You were the fox in the henhouse.”
    He didn’t tell her that the girls ran around before the wedding in garter belts, sans bras, because they didn’t want to get their backless dresses dirty, but she had obviously figured it out.
    Trying to regain some of his dignity, he said, “But let me tell you what happened next. At the reception I danced with the bridesmaids. There was one I kind of liked, and I tried to make time with her. She just laughed at me.”
    “Aw, the light dawns. My Garykins got laughed at by a girl. You poor thing.” Penny laughed herself. “But that’s okay. Aphrodite was watching over you and looking out for my best interests. You were being saved for me.”
    “I guess so.” He grinned. He would get no pity from her. He was glad he was out of that conversation.
    “How did the marriage go?”
    “She divorced him a year ago. Got a big settlement, as I understand it.”

“So you think he might be envious of you. From what you’ve said, I believe it. What you need to do is call him and make sure he’s home.”
    “It’s a long distance call, and we’re in the middle of nowhere.”
    “I’m sure there are phone booths at Rim Village. You can call from there. Your peace of mind will make it worth the cost.”
    “I’ll call him collect. He owes me.”
    ***
    Alfred wheeled into Mt. Mazama Campground as if he owned the place. He had no intention of staying at another campground, after his cold night in Lake Tahoe, but if Penny and Gary were following the route he thought they were following, their tent should be here.
    Last night, he had watched the movie Moulin Rouge on the television set in his motel room. It was the tragic story of Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, with Jose Ferrer playing the crippled French painter. Seeing it on the black and white TV gave it a stark, almost tragic appearance. He identified with the man who hadn’t been able to find true love because of his deformity.
    Alfred wasn’t exactly a painter, but he had some talent at