A Bone to Pick Page 0,1
mirror as I could manage, since without my glasses I can't make out my reflection very well. I put on as much makeup as I felt comfortable with, and then a little more. My round brown eyes got rounder, my lashes got longer, and then I covered them up with my big, round tortoiseshell glasses. Sliding a precautionary handkerchief into my purse, I eyed myself in the mirror, hoped I looked dignified and unconcerned, and went down the stairs to the kitchen of my townhouse apartment to gather up my keys and good coat before sallying forth to that most wretched of obligatory events, the Wedding of a Recent Former Boyfriend.
Arthur Smith and I had met through a club we both attended, Real Murders. He'd helped on the homicide investigation that had followed the murder of one of the club members, and the string of deaths that followed this initial murder. I'd dated Arthur for months after the investigation was over, and our relationship had been my only experience of a red-hot romance. We sizzled together, we became something more than a nearly thirty librarian and a divorced policeman. And then, as suddenly as the fire had flared, it died out, but on his side of the hearth first. I had finally gotten the message - "I'm continuing this relationship until I can figure out a way to get out without a scene" - and with an immense effort I'd gathered my dignity together and ended our relationship without causing that scene. But it had taken all my emotional energy and willpower, and for maybe six months I'd been crying into my pillow. Just when I was feeling better and hadn't driven past the police station in a week, I saw the engagement announcement in the Sentinel. I saw green for envy, I saw red for rage, I saw blue for depression. I would never get married, I decided, I would just go to other people's weddings the rest of my life. Maybe I could arrange to be out of town the weekend of the wedding so I wouldn't be tempted to drive past the church. Then the invitation came in the mail.
Lynn Liggett, Arthur's fiancée and fellow detective, had thrown down the gauntlet. Or at least that's how I interpreted the invitation. Now, in my blue-and-gold and my fancy hairdo, I had grasped it. I'd picked out an impersonal and expensive plate in Lynn 's pattern at the department store and left my card on it, and now I was going to the wedding. The usher was a policeman I knew from the time I dated Arthur. "Good to see you," he said doubtfully. "You look great, Roe." He looked stiff and uncomfortable in his tux, but he offered his arm properly. "Friend of the bride, or friend of the groom?" he asked automatically, and then flushed as red as a beet.
"Let's say friend of the groom," I suggested gently, and gave myself high marks. Poor Detective Henske marched me down the aisle to an empty seat and dumped me with obvious relief.
I glanced around as little as possible, putting all my energy into looking relaxed and nonchalant, sort of as if I'd just happened to be appropriately dressed and just happened to see the wedding invitation on my way out the door, and decided I'd just drop in. It was all right to look at Arthur when he entered, everyone else was. His pale blond hair was crisp and curly and short, his blue eyes as direct and engaging as ever. He was wearing a gray tux and he looked great. It didn't hurt quite as much as I'd thought it would. When the "Wedding March" began, everyone rose for the entrance of the bride, and I gritted my teeth in anticipation. I was pretty sure my fixed smile looked more like a snarl. I turned reluctantly to watch Lynn make her entrance. Here she came, swathed in white, veiled, as tall as Arthur, her straight, short hair curled for the occasion. Lynn was almost a foot taller than I, something that had obviously bothered her, but I guessed it wasn't going to bother her anymore. Then Lynn passed me, and when I saw her in profile I gasped. Lynn was clearly pregnant.
It would be hard to say why this was such a blow; I certainly hadn't wanted to become pregnant while I was dating Arthur, and would have been horrified if I'd been faced with the situation.