Рита Браун - Cat's Eyewitness

She sat at the head of the table, placing Herb at the foot. He protested that he didn't deserve the honor, but she told him how lovely it was to have a man at the table. She put Maggie on his right hand. Technically Maggie should have sat at Alicia's right as her guest of honor, but the hell with technicalities.

She also sat BoomBoom smack in the middle of the table, not considered a favorable place by those who understood that your place was indicated, literally, by your place. But BoomBoom knew her place in this community and had no need of visual reinforcement. She wanted the dinner to be a success, so she herself suggested she sit in the middle. In case conversation lagged, she could rekindle it from that position.

Jim Sanburne sat on Alicia's right. As Mayor of Crozet this made sense. His wife sat on Alicia's left.

She cleverly placed Harry on Herb's left, for Harry could be quite funny, often unintentionally so. She scattered everyone in a manner she thought would bring the best out in them, keep them alert, and she certainly kept Paul de Silva alert when she placed Fair Haristeen next to Tazio. She put Bo on Tazio's other side and placed Nancy Newell next to Fair.

By the second course the table buzzed. First of all, everyone enjoyed everyone else. They hoped a spark might be kindled in Herb and Maggie.

"They'll need the miracle of the fishes and the loaves," Big Mini commented on the crowds at Greyfriars.

"Can't the faithful brown-bag it?" Harry, ever practical, said, which elicited laughter. "Did I put my foot in it again?"

"No, it's just you." Susan smiled, happy that Ned was paying attention to her.

"Well, the Blessed Virgin Mother can bless a ham sandwich as well as fishes and loaves," Harry commented.

A moment passed and Herb said, his voice deep, reassuring, "I called Brother Handle to see if I could be of service. He thanked me but said they could manage. He did say people are giving the monks money, leaving money at the statue, leaving burning candles in glass votives, leaving contributions in the shops. He mentioned that the order does not seek wealth. I replied that surely there is no injunction against wealth seeking the order."

Maggie, who had done many commercial voice-overs, asked in her distinctive voice, "And what did he say?"

"That he would bow to God's will." Herb smiled broadly.

"Which means: take the money and run." Ned laughed.

"Susan, did Brother Thomas ever talk to you about his life in the order?" BoomBoom asked.

Susan, wearing a forest-green dress that looked good on her, shook her head. "Not much. The only thing he ever said was, people are people, and I never quite knew what he meant."

"That politics is politics and if you have more than three people in a room, you have politics," Jim replied.

"In Virginia you only need one person." Tazio, originally from St. Louis, laughed. "One Virginian can hold five conflicting opinions simultaneously."

The conversation switched to a state senator from Rockingham County who they felt would run for governor next election.

Herb, tone measured, inclined his head toward Maggie. "Conservative fiscally but quite liberal on what I call personal-choice issues, an interesting mix."

"The mix of the future." Jim Sanburne became enlivened. "This country can't continue with the kind of polarization we have now, a polarization because the extremes of both parties are controlling them. Americans aren't extremists."

"Only in defense of liberty," Herb smoothly said, cribbing from the late Barry Goldwater, earning an admiring smile from Maggie.

"What the extremists have done, which I find very dangerous, is pull the debates away from the center. So the center is now thirty degrees to the right of where it might have been during the presidency of Dwight D. Eisenhower, a president who I feel was far better than he is credited for."

"Isn't that the truth," Big Mim simply said in reply to Alicia's astute observation.

"But all those men, men of that generation, whether Republican or Democrat, were fundamentally centrists," Tracy Raz, retired from a long career in the military and then the CIA, offered. "What we are seeing now is a generation not tempered by World War Two."

Paul de Silva, a South American with his green card—and therefore a lucky man—softly said, "You believe war brings wisdom?"

Herb, Jim, and Tracy had seen combat in World War II or Korea. Ned, a Navy man, just missed Vietnam but worked in the aftermath. Bo was in the fleet during Vietnam.

Herb lifted his chin. "What war teaches you is that you never want to see another one. I think the leaders that came out of World War One and World War Two did have a deep wisdom, a deep respect for human life. If lives must be lost, then the cause must be just and great. To squander an American life is a terrible calamity."

The group was silent for a minute. All agreed with the good reverend.

Harry finally spoke up. "It is strange, though, isn't it, that we can kill someone in a different uniform, but if we do that at home, it's murder."

"But maybe even murder is occasionally justified," Tracy said. He quickly held up his hands. "A wife kills a drunken husband who has their baby by the heels and is threatening to destroy the child. There are no easy answers, I'm afraid."

"And that's a gift." Alicia broadly smiled and brought them back to a lighter mood. "If it were easy, think how bored we'd be. Aren't all the great questions of life irrational, irrational to the human mind but perhaps not irrational to a mind greater than our own or to nature?"

"Like what?" Susan leaned toward Alicia.

"Love, the only fire against which there is no insurance. Intelligence is no guarantee that one will find the right love, shall we say? After all, consider Arthur Miller in love with Marilyn Monroe."

"Do I have to?" Harry popped off.

"Harry, God forbid you consider anything of the sort." Susan teased her.

"Let's pick someone closer to her generation." Miranda looked across the table at Tracy, thinking him the best-looking man for his age she had ever seen, and he was looking at her thinking the same of her.

"You don't have to give me examples. I know what you mean."

"Honey, I'll be your Arthur Miller anytime," Fair gallantly promised as the others applauded him.

"Does that mean I have to wear low-cut dresses, wiggle, and get a boob job?"

Maggie Sheraton's mouth dropped open for a second.

"That's our Harry." Herb beamed at Maggie.

"Darling, you don't need breast augmentation." Alicia carefully chose her words.

"You say that to all the girls." Harry couldn't resist.

"No, only the special ones." Alicia laughed at herself, which only made her guests all the more animated.

"Well, now, there's a subject for philosophers." Fair nodded to his hostess. "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder."

This set them off.

Maxwell, sitting patiently by his mother's right hand, listened. Humans amused him, and being a Gordon setter he was more generous in his assessments than a Jack Russell terrier might have been. Tucker, Mrs. Murphy, and Pewter hunkered under the table. Tucker hoped for fallen tidbits. Alicia allowed them to attend the party because she loved animals, they were well behaved, and Maxwell and Tucker were fast friends. Resting in the front hall was Brinkley, Tazio's yellow Lab. He liked people well enough but, even though Labs are not known for being guard dogs, he liked watching the door. Brinkley had been saved by Tazio last winter during a nasty storm. His entire life was devoted to Tazio.

"Love stuff." Pewter yawned.

"They'll rattle on all night." Tucker chuckled.

"I had a boyfriend once," Mrs. Murphy said.

"We all know your boyfriend. Worthless, that Paddy." Pewter couldn't abide the black and white cat, who now lived in Keswick, having been rescued by Meredith McLaughlin.