Jill Churchill - A Groom With a View

Eventually the room cleared. The trophy wiveswere gathered up by their husbands and taken back to the local motel. The aunts were tucked away in their rooms to sleep it off. Layla hoisted herself out of the chair, staggering only slightly, and went to take a nap, too. Kitty had put away the pretty negligees, slippers, underwear, and more conventional kitchen and bath gifts. Mrs. Hessling was looking extremely sober and very relieved that it was over and was making noises about finding Errol to take her back to the motel. When she'd gone, the only one left was Livvy, who looked tired.

“Get a little rest before dinner," Jane advised her.

“I'll see if Daddy has anything for me to do and if not, I will rest for a while. This is very tiring and must be even more so for you, Jane."

“I don't mind," Jane said. "It's what I came here to do. And most of the hard work was the planning ahead.”

Jane stayed behind to tidy up the room a bit more. Shelley had gone to clean up the croquet set. The sounds of the football game had faded as Dwayne's friends had drifted back to the motel to change clothes and clean up for the bachelor party later.

There was only one seemingly untouched glass of champagne left. Mr. Willis came in and started clearing away the last of the plates and Jane made a dive for the drink before he could take it away.

“You did a lovely job, Mr. Willis," she said.

“And this really is delicious. No wonder they all had to stagger away.”

He nodded his gratitude. "I'm leaving for a while to pick up a few more things and have put salads and dinners in the refrigerator for you and Mrs. Nowack. Will Mr. VanDyne be staying for dinner, too?"

“I don't know. I haven't had much of a chance to speak to him."

“I'll leave enough for him, too, then.”

He shimmered off, Jeeves-like, and Jane sipped her champagne in blissful quiet. Which was interrupted a few minutes later by Dwayne Hessling. He looked upset.

“What's wrong?" she asked.

“I've been looking everywhere for you," he said furiously. "Come see.”

They met up with Shelley in the main room, loaded down with mallets, balls, and hoops. Sensing something was up, she dumped all of it on a chair and followed Jane and Dwayne to his room.

It had been trashed.

Drawers were pulled out and thrown about, even the empty ones. The contents of his suitcase had been strewn around the room. A bottle of aftershave had been poured all over the bed. In the bathroom, his toothpaste had been squeezed out all over the floor, his shaving gear was in the toilet on top of a wadded-up dress shirt.

“Oh, my gosh!" Shelley whispered.

“What's this about?" Dwayne demanded of Jane.

“I don't know," she said. "When did this happen?"

“While we were all outside," Dwayne said angrily. "I changed my clothes to play football."

“Dwayne, why would anybody do this?" Jane asked.

“Hell if I know."

“Somebody's really mad at you," Shelley said. "Nobody's got the right to do this to my things. And I want it cleaned up right now."

“Then let's clean it up," Jane said. She'd been sympathetic at first, but his orders, sounding so like Jack Thatcher's, were beginning to annoy her.

“I'm not in charge here, you are. I'm a guest," he sneered.

“You're Mr. Thatcher's guest. Want to ask him to muck around in your toilet?" Jane asked.

“I'm going to find a convenience store to get new toothpaste," he said. "I hope everything is in order when I get back.”

He stomped out, leaving Jane and Shelley red-faced and furious. They stared at each other for a long moment. Then Jane said, "I still have one empty room on this hallway. We'll just put his things in there. Dwayne can find other cleaning ladies."

“What a bastard he is," Shelley said.

“It's as if the twerp's been sitting at Jack Thatcher's knee, learning to be an imperious pig of a man," Jane added.

“Jerk. Jerk. Jerk," Shelley muttered, picking up a shirt, shaking it out, and looking in the rubble for a clothes hanger.

Half an hour later, they closed the door on the room, leaving the tiny window open to air it out, and Jane stuck a note on the door that said: You're now in the room across the hall.

Twelve ·,

About four, the family and wedding party started gathering in preparation for the rehearsal and dinner afterwards. Running through the wedding itself was a breeze except that the aunts wanted greater roles. What those roles might have been was anybody's guess. They were to be escorted to the first row of chairs on the bride's side as "mother of the bride" substitutes. But at every stage of the proceedings, they kept asking, "What should we be doing now?”

Jane had half a dozen possible sarcastic replies to this query, but restrained herself and kept telling them they were to just sit still and enjoy themselves.

The groom, best man, and groomsmen came in from the side room in good order. Kitty, Layla, and Eden came down the stairs gracefully. If any of them were thinking about Mrs. Crossthwait's deadly descent, they didn't show it. Kitty had made Livvy a really spectacular practice bouquet out of the ribbons and bows from the bridal shower. Livvy, in a pale blue suit she was wearing to dinner, would have made a lovely bride just as she was, ribbon bouquet and all. Jack, escorting her, even looked pleasant and pleased.

The practice only took a few moments to run through. A minibus Jack had hired was waiting at the front door to take the bridal party and families to a very nice restaurant in Chicago, which was why Mr. Willis, as well as Jane and Shelley, were getting a well-deserved break and also the reason they were leaving so early. The travel time plus the dinner would give Jane, Shelley, and Mr. Willis a good five or six hours of blessed quiet.

As the guests started boarding the bus, Jane caught a glimpse of Uncle Joe in a fairly decent suit and tie. "Is he going along?" she whispered to Shelley.

“I can't imagine why he'd be invited," Shelley replied. "He's hired help like us, only of longer duration.”

But Uncle Joe got on the bus.

As Eden went back in the lodge for something she'd forgotten, Jane waylaid her. "Eden, why's Uncle Joe included?" she asked bluntly.

Eden looked a bit confused. "Why, because he's part of the family. Didn't you know that?”

“What part, exactly?" Jane asked.

“He's Jack's brother. Illegitimate, of course. Older half-brother, actually, to Jack, Iva, and Marguerite. I thought you knew. That's why he getsto live here for free without doing much work. Have you seen my beaded purse?"

“On the long brown sofa," Jane said, and looked at Shelley with a stunned expression that matched her friend's.

They didn't speak until all the guests were on board and the bus pulled out. Even then, they headed silently for the kitchen. Jane poured them each a cup of coffee and they sat down at the big table in the center of the room.

“Who'd have guessed?" Shelley finally said. "I thought 'Uncle' was just an honorific title. For long service to the family."

“I can't quite get a grip on this," Jane said, peering into her coffee cup as if a revelation might appear there. "Older half-brother, Eden said. So he was born, or at least conceived, before old O. W. even married."

“Eden said the old boy was quite a womanizer."

“Do you suppose his wife knew before she married him?" Jane asked.

“We'll never know, but apparently the rest of the family knows if Eden does," Shelley said. "Uncle Joe really is Livvy's uncle."

“It sure accounts for why the aunts are so haughty and cold to him. I thought it was just general snobbiness, but it's very specific snobbiness. The disreputable old guy is their half-brother.”