Maybe the Moon

could feel myself wobbling a little too, so I moved my legs apart slightly to gain a steadier stance. Moments later, the ever-attentive Linda spotted the Gliddens herself and moved in swiftly to take charge of things. “Mary, Walter…”
    The couple greeted her in unison.
    “Such a sweet service,” Linda said.
    “Wasn’t it? We were just saying that to Bud Larkin—the reverend.” Mrs. Glidden was smiling graciously, but her eyes were swollen from crying. It was touching to see her make such a valiant effort to be social in the midst of her pain.
    “I think you’ve met Neil,” said Linda.
    “Yes.” Mary nodded. “And this must be…”
    “Cadence Roth.” I held up my hand before Linda could usurp the introduction. I didn’t want to risk how she might define me to the Gliddens.
    “And what a pleasure this is,” said Walter.
    I thanked him.
    “It certainly is,” Mary put in.
    Looping his arm through hers, Walter drew his wife closer. “You know, Mary here reviewed you.”
    Mary looked instantly embarrassed. “Oh, Walter, for Pete’s sake!”
    I had no idea what they were talking about, but my guilty heart was lodged firmly in my throat again.
    Walter patted his wife’s hand. “Don’t be so modest, Mary. I’m entitled to brag about you.”
    Mary gave her husband an affectionately reproving look, then turned back to me. “I used to write a little column here. Just chitchat, really. For our local paper. I thought Mr. Woods was delightful, so…I said so in the column.”
    “It was a rave review,” Walter declared.
    “It wasn’t actually a review as such.” Mary addressed me sheepishly, clearly embarrassed by her husband’s hyperbole.
    “Must have sold a few tickets, though.”
    This time Mary was firmer. “Walter, please. I don’t think they needed my help. It was the top-grossing movie of all time.”
    I was beginning to like this lady a lot, so I sent her a faint, private smile, just for the two of us. “Second, I believe.”
    “Really? What was first?”
    “ Star Wars .”
    “Oh, well. I liked you much better.”
    I thanked her as earnestly as I knew how.
    “Janet was just thrilled to be working with you.”
    “That’s so nice.”
    “It’s not nice,” she insisted, “it’s the truth.”
    “Well, it was mutual,” I said, biting the bullet. “I thought your daughter was a supremely gifted artist.”
    The Gliddens were far more touched by this monumental lie than I’d expected them to be. Almost instantly, they tightened their grip on each other, like riders on a roller coaster bracing for another heart-stopping dip. Mary’s lower lip began to quiver slightly, but she managed to retain her composure. Her husband staved off the tears by gazing woodenly at the ground. I didn’t record Neil’s response, or Linda’s, for that matter, because I couldn’t bring myself to look at them.
    Walter was the one who finally spoke, his voice cracking pitifully. “We’re…awfully proud of her.”
    “You should be,” I said.
    An excruciating silence followed. I waited for Neil to fill the void, but he just left me there, the sorry bastard, flailing in the quicksand of my own hypocrisy.
    Finally, Mary said: “We looked for that film, you know. We couldn’t find it anywhere.”
    “What film?”
    “Of you. Janet’s film.”
    “Oh, really?” I squeaked.
    “Isn’t that odd? As much as she talked about it.”
    “It is.”
    She destroyed it , I told myself. Burned the sonofabitch. Tossed it off a cliff. Right after I told her what a loser she was .
    “Did she give you a copy, by any chance?” Walter asked.
    “Not really.”
    “What a shame,” said Linda.
    I shot a quick glance at her to see if she meant this maliciously, but I found her face utterly unreadable. Turning back to the Gliddens, I said: “It wasn’t really finished, you know.”
    “Still,” said Walter pleasantly, “you’d think there’d be something.”
    “You would.” A clammy trickle of sweat had begun to work its way down the inside of my crepe de chine.
    “What did you sing?” asked Mary.
    “‘If,’” I told her.
    “I don’t believe I know that.”
    Linda’s face became animated for the first time that day. “The old David Gates song? You’re kidding? Janet didn’t tell me you were doing that.”
    I sincerely hoped that wasn’t all Janet hadn’t told her, like what a roaring bitch I’d been when I quit. I didn’t particularly want Linda for a friend, but I didn’t want her for