"Better late than never," she said, shrugging. "Are you really a blacksmith?"
"More or less."
"Cool!" Red looked impressed. I decided I could get to like her.
"Red's going to help me turn Lawyers from Hell into a computer game," Rob said. They went off discussing RAM and mice and object-oriented programming and other things that I had no idea Rob knew anything about. Well, he was happy, anyway.
The party was definitely hitting its stride. Aunt Catriona tried to convince Natalie to play her bagpipes, but reason--or stage fright--prevailed. Undeterred, Aunt Catriona performed her justly notorious highland fling unaccompanied. With her final kick, she lost one of her spike heels, which arched across the dance floor to lodge in Great-Aunt Betty's bouffant hairdo.
Despite the fact that their usual grounds were occupied by at least four hundred people, the croquet crowd were wandering about with their mallets in hand, trying to set up wickets.
I sat on the edge of the patio wall and gazed over the lawn. These were my family. My kin. My blood. I felt a strong, deeply rooted desire to get the hell out of town before they drove me completely over the edge.
And I could now. The sculptor still had my house till Labor Day, but there was no earthly reason for me to stay here. I could go ... anywhere!
I began to feel more cheerful.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mother standing at the edge of the rock garden, preparing to launch her bouquet. I gauged the distance, satisfied myself that there was no way Mother's delicate arm could possibly throw the bouquet anywhere near me, and snagged a glass of champagne with a strawberry in it from a passing waiter.
"Aren't you going to try for it?" Michael said, startling me by appearing at my elbow.
"No. I've sworn them off. I've sworn off everything connected with weddings; I told you that already." I deliberately turned my back on the charming tableau of Mother gracefully waving her bouquet over the heads of a sea of laughing, chattering women.
"I don't care if she's had the damn thing gold-plated," I said. I daintily raised my champagne flute to take a sip--when Mother's well-aimed bouquet bounced off my head and landed in the hands of a startled Michael.
"You touched it first," he said, quickly stuffing the bouquet into my hand.
Hordes of relatives swarmed over to congratulate me on my detecting ability, my wedding organizing ability, my bouquet-catching ability. I smiled and murmured thanks and sipped my champagne.
"You're in a very good mood," Michael said.
"The damned weddings are over. I can finally think about something else for a change."
"I'll drink to that," Michael said. "Speaking of which--"
"I can't drink to it, I'm out of champagne."
"Your wish is my command," he said. "Back in a jiffy."
I glanced up at the sky. It was clouding over. Maybe a short, sudden shower would slow down the coming riot. I looked back over the sea of relatives. Then again, maybe it would take a deluge.
The band was playing an Irish jig, and many of the crowd were dancing, although most of them obviously had no earthly idea what a jig was like. I particularly liked Mrs. Tranh's interpretation, though.
"Charming," Michael said, coming up behind me so suddenly that I nearly fell off the wall.
"My God, you startled me," I said.
"Sorry," he said. "I need to talk to you."
"So talk," I said, watching two of my great-uncles, who were perched on the diving board beginning some sort of arm-wrestling contest.
"Not here. Come with me," Michael said, taking me gently but firmly by the arm.
"Where?" I asked.
"This way," he said, dragging me around the other side of the house to a point out of sight of the wedding festivities.
"Michael, I adore masterful men," I said sarcastically, "but what on earth is this about?"
"Sit here," he said, pointing to a picnic bench that had somehow not been requisitioned for the reception.
"I can't see what's going on from here," I protested.
"We know what's going on," he said. "Your family are eating and drinking and doing bizarre things. This is important."
"What if someone needs me?"
"They can do without you for a few minutes. This is important. I want to explain something to you."
"So explain."
"No, first you have to promise me something. Promise me you'll hear me out."
"Okay."
"I mean it," he insisted. "No interruptions. If one of the kids comes running up with a broken arm you'll send him off to your father. If your mother needs something, you'll let your sister take care of it. If a dead body falls out of the trees you'll ignore it until I finish."