Murder With Peacocks(121)

"Michael, whatever it is, you could probably have explained it by now. I promise you, I'll ignore an earthquake; get on with it."

"Okay," he said. And sat there looking at me.

"Well?" I said, impatiently.

"I'm suddenly speechless."

"That must be a first," I said, starting to rise. "Look, while you're collecting your thoughts--"

"No, dammit, hold on a minute, let me explain," he said, pulling me back down to the picnic bench. And as I turned to protest, he grabbed me by both shoulders, pulled me close ...

And kissed me.

It was a thorough, expert, and fairly lengthy kiss, and by the end of it I would have fallen off the picnic bench if Michael hadn't put an arm around me.

"I've been trying to explain to you all summer," he began.

"Yes, I think I'm getting the picture. Explain it to me some more," I said, pulling his head back down to mine.

It was during the second kiss that the first of the fireworks hit us. Quite literally; the grandchildren had begun setting off an impressive array of fireworks, and one badly aimed skyrocket went whizzing by and sideswiped Michael's ear.

"They're doing it again," he exclaimed, jumping up.

"Have the kids been shooting fireworks at you? You should have told someone; that's strictly against the rules."

"No, I mean they're interrupting us," he said. "They've been doing it all summer. The whole town has, for that matter."

"You can't really accuse everyone of interrupting us," I said. "I don't suppose it ever dawned on anyone there was an us to interrupt. It certainly never dawned on me. Was there a particular reason you decided to pretend to be gay all summer? Research for a part or something?"

"I didn't decide; it just happened," he said. "I turned down some pretty disgustingly blunt propositions from a couple of Samantha's bridesmaids and then I found they'd spread it all over town that I was gay."

"You could have said something."

"I didn't really give a damn at first. I figured, who cares, and it would keep the matchmaking aunts and predatory bridesmaids at bay. But then you came along, and they convinced you, and every time I tried to explain to you, someone would come along and drag you away to do something for one of the weddings, or something would explode, or a dead body would turn up. It's been driving me crazy."

"That's my family for you," I said, nodding.

"Let's go someplace," he begged, pulling me up from the bench. "Someplace where we can be alone. Come on. There's no one at my mother's house. Let's go there. We need to talk."

Actually, I thought we'd done enough talking for the moment, but I figured we'd work that out when we'd ditched the rest of the wedding guests.

As we rounded the corner of the house, watching warily for anyone who might waylay us, a spectacular flash of lightning and an almost simultaneous burst of thunder dwarfed the fireworks, and the heavens opened.

We were ignored as everyone began running for shelter, either in the tent or the house. But then, one end of the tent sagged dramatically as part of the bluff collapsed beneath it, sending buffet tables ricocheting down the cliff. Guests and caterers nearly trampled each other evacuating the tent as larger and larger portions of the bank dropped off. A sudden gust of wind caught the out-of-balance tent and sent it flying out onto the water, while with a final rumbling, one last, enormous chunk of bluff subsided into the river, taking the shallow end of the swimming pool with it. Several mad souls cheered as the contents of the pool spilled over the side of the bluff in a short-lived but dramatic waterfall.

As we watched, the tent drifted gently down the river, with one lone, wet, bedraggled peahen perched atop it, shrieking irritably until the tent finally disappeared below the waves and she flapped to the shore.

"Oh, my God," I said.

"Pay no attention," Michael said.

"We've got to do something."

"No one's hurt, and there's a thousand other people here to do something. Come on!"

We dashed through the downpour down to Michael's mother's house. Which now looked like an Easter egg in a bed of very wet excelsior. With several damp, irritable peacocks sitting on the peak of the roof. We ignored their plaintive shrieks.

"Alone at last!" Michael exclaimed, slamming the door shut. We stood there, looking at each other for a moment.

Looking into Michael's eyes, I wondered how I could ever have been so blind all summer, how I could ever have been so mistaken about him, and whether he'd ever let me hear the last of it.

Time enough to worry about that later. He reached out to pull me close and--

"Michael? Is that you?" came a voice from deeper within the house.