I was a little surprised to see the church again so soon; I had eaten my lunch practically in its shadow. Light was coming through the stained-glass windows making bright pointed shapes on the ground. I have to admit that churches make me nervous. Even when I was a kid singing in the Kiwanis Music Festival, the hammer-beamed roofs, the regimental flags, the plaques and memorials all made me feel peculiar. It was a different feeling from the one I got at the synagogue at the corner of Church and Calvin. That smelled of furniture polish. I could relate to that. But what was I supposed to do with the old tombstones preserved in the wall of the entrance: Sacred to the Memory of … To the Glory of God and in Grateful Memory of … whose unassuming worth, unaffected Piety and generous affection this humble monument …
“What are you thinking about? You’re suddenly so quiet.” Anna was wearing a blue-and-white-striped dress which went well with her long hair. I’d picked her up at Secord. She was looking wonderfully fresh after having taught all day. Maybe it was the touch of perfume. I’m a little slow on feminine subtleties.
“Churches make me feel very Jewish,” I said. “How do they affect you?”
“I try to concentrate on the architecture. If it gets really bad, I hold my breath. Benny, this is just a little church. Nothing to be afraid of.”
“I’m not frightened, Anna. I’m not soft in the head. It’s just that I feel conspicuous.”
“Well, then relax, Benny. You are conspicuous. But that has to do with your work and not your religion. After what you’ve told me, I’d feel like crawling into the baptismal font and not coming up for air.”
“Thanks a lot!”
“Take a big breath and think of the dinner that comes after the rehearsal.”
It was about six-thirty when we arrived. I held the heavy wooden door open for Anna and followed her into the cool interior. It was a church with a central aisle leading up to the altar, with hymn-posting boards on either side of the back wall looking like Mexican lottery numbers. Like a European car, it was one of those places that looks larger on the inside than you could possibly guess from the outside.
Most of the people taking part in Saturday’s ceremony were already sitting in the first few rows of pews. Some of the men, having just come from the club, were dressed casually. The rest were still in their office clothes. Some of the women were dressed in a studied informality. Without looking, I could still guess some of the New York designer labels. An old gentleman in a cardigan and light grey slacks was shaking hands with some of the characters in the front benches. A blonde, with long hair tied in an old-fashioned pony-tail, caught sight of us as we came in and started up the aisle towards us.
“Anna, oh, Anna, I’m so glad you got here!” she said beaming a wonderful advertisement for her dentist. “I was beginning to wonder how I could go through with this without my maid of honour. Oh! What a relief! That makes the cast complete, I think, except for Daddy and Grandfather. But they are always late!” Sherry took my hand and introduced herself, then she grabbed Anna by both hands and held her at arm’s length. For a moment they were both talking at once and I missed all of it. Sherry tended to talk in short enthusiastic bursts of energy, which was very attractive in her. It emphasized her youth. It made me glad to be with Anna, who could do that when necessary and for fun, but wasn’t stuck with it as her only manner. It may not have been Sherry’s either, but I make quick judgments in my work and most of them are inadequate or misleading. Maybe I should go to more weddings. Anna and Sherry were looking at me now, their heads together. Sherry smiled at me with her eyes and she mimed to me with an arched eyebrow what a find I had in Anna. I found myself grinning back at her without measuring my rights to be accepting any sort of compliment for my escorting Anna that night. This male/female thing is very complicated and I’m just beginning to find my way in it.
“I heard that you were out of town,” Sherry said, turning to Anna again and giving her a hug. “But I’m so glad you’re here. It’s getting so that you can’t believe anybody any more. I’ll stick with the Farmers’ Almanac.”
“Where did you hear that Anna was away, Sherry?” I asked. I was thinking of my comment to the hoods outside the seafood restaurant in Port Richmond the night before.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it was Daddy. He’s always trying to scare me. I really can’t remember.” For a moment, I thought she was about to remember, but it was quite a different idea popping into her head. “Benny, have you met Norman? You must meet my intended!” She was delighted to be showing him off. If I’d said I’d already had the pleasure, it would have been an unkind and unwanted frankness, so I kept my mouth shut.
Sherry called out, and the shortish, big-shouldered young man I’d seen in Ross Forbes’s office came towards us. We traded knowing grins that covered the unspoken territory as we were re-introduced to one another. I looked Caine over carefully, making the most of this unexpected second opportunity. Like his fiancée, he was blond. In fact he seemed to be down-covered. At least he gave that impression. I’d be surprised if he spent a fortune on razor-blades. “I told you Anna wouldn’t leave us in the lurch, dear. Here she is, and just in time too.” I tried again to discover the source of the rumour that Anna would be away, and again I was disappointed. After more pleasantries, Sherry took Anna by the arm and dragged her down to the front to meet the bridesmaids. Norman Caine pulled his eyes off the departing figure of his bride-to-be reluctantly.
“Have you ever been through this sort of thing?” he asked me. I shook my head. From somewhere not far away I could hear a high, reedy voice saying, “Evelyn Alexandra Stagg’s mother had been Josephine Mabel Deacon. Laura Evelyn Deacon never married …”
“Sherry’s a wonderful girl,” Caine said, whistling in the dark, or so it seemed to me. He was watching her with the other young women standing in the aisle before the altar. I nodded approval, noticing for the first time a thin spot under the blond hair of Caine’s boyish round head. Down at the front of the church, talking to Biddy, who had just come over to the bridesmaids, Sherry was as animated and as bright as a bride should be and I said so to Norm Caine. Biddy, the Commander’s wife, looked lively and young for her age as well.
“I’m damned nervous about this thing,” Caine said. “We nearly funked it last week.” He looked over to see if I was interested in hearing more. I was and showed it. “We almost ran off to try to find a simple civil way around all this.” His gesture took in the far end of the church including the altar and choir. “But Sherry has always wanted a big white wedding. What’s a mere man to do?” He put on a hang-dog look, but with his rosy cheeks he couldn’t quite get away with it. The high woman’s voice was coming over the pews again: “He was the first judge in the County of Renfrew. But the Metcalfs and the Heeses were all Deacons originally. Jane Louise Deacon married John Metcalf. The Dunlops come in there somewhere …”
“Are you going away on a trip afterwards?” I asked.
“Nobody’s supposed to know. Sherry wants no pranks or visitors.”
“My lips are sealed.”
“We’ll be away for a week. There’s a nice warm beach and all of the tourists will be gone by this time. Our own deserted island.” There was a slight noise at the entrance. I turned to see Ross Forbes coming in.
“Here comes the father of the bride,” I said. The shoulders of his son-in-law-to-be fell with the news. Caine glanced behind him.